Raelyn Abbott.
As Larry pulls up the long drive leading up to the house, I still haven’t been able to shake the girl from my head. Seeing her was like taking a breath of fresh air after being trapped in a lounge full of smokers for the past eight hours.
She’s such a contrast from the women I usually deal with.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about the ladies and what they bring to the table, but her reaction to me was so different than what I’m used to. She seemed so completely unfazed by me or the fame I’ve found in the last couple of years. Honestly, it was kind of refreshing.
“Bout time,” Chet grumbles the second I push my way inside.
He’s lounging on the chaise in the main living area, his legs draped over the arm, drum sticks in both of his hands.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I gesture to the sticks.
“My kit isn’t here yet,” he explains. “Gotta figure out my beat somehow.” He raps them lightly across his legs.
“Where’s Kill?” I ask, looking around the otherwise empty room.
“Right here.” His voice finds my ears just seconds before he steps up next to me, clasping me on the shoulder as he looks to my hands.
He gives me a ‘what the fuck’ look when he realizes I don’t have what he asked for.
“All out,” I explain on a shrug.
“Here I thought you were gonna make me look good tonight,” Killian jokes.
“They will have more in the morning. I can run out and pick some up then,” I offer, glancing to the side just in time to see Killian’s forehead draw together in confusion.
“What?” I push his hand off my shoulder and cross the room, flopping down on the couch just feet from Chet.
“What the fuck has gotten into you?” Killian slides down onto the opposite end of the couch, his curious gaze still locked firmly on my face.
“Nothing.” I look between the two guys. “What? You won’t let me fucking do anything else.” I throw my arms up in exclamation, giving them a half-assed excuse.
I’m not about to tell them that my willingness to go has everything to do with a certain strawberry blonde bombshell that I’m hoping will be there again.
“Uh huh.” Chet pushes up into a sitting position. “Anyway.” He looks over at Killian. “We gonna knock this shit out or what?” He points to the pile of notes scattered across the table in front of us.
“Is this the song?” I ask, leaning forward to retrieve a piece of paper with scribbles and scratches all over it.
“Yeah, I’m having trouble working out the bridge.” Killian snags the paper from my hand and looks down at it.
“Hold up, let me grab my baby.” I push off the couch and cross toward the staircase. “This where we doin’ it?” I ask, gesturing around the living room.
“Yeah, we’re just gonna go bare. Aiden’s already in bed.” Chet clicks his tongue on the top of his mouth like this fact annoys him.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I return moments later with Laurie, my favorite Fender guitar, slung over my shoulder. Yes, I named her after Jamie Lee Curtis’s character in the Halloween movies. What can I say? I fucking loved those movies growing up.
“Where are the girls?” I ask, rejoining Killian on the couch.
“Out. Kate took Nora to the drive in.”
“Surprised you two pussy-whipped fuckers aren’t there with them.” I press the guitar pic between my lips as I bring Laurie in tune.
Strumming my fingers across the strings, she purrs like the beauty she is. I’m not ashamed to admit that there is what can only be described as a love affair going on between me and my guitar. She’s the only woman I want with me always.
“Fuck you.” Chet throws a wadded-up piece of paper at me, missing my face by mere inches as he pulls me back to the conversation.
“I’m just speaking the truth.” I shrug innocently, resting Laurie in my lap.
“Are you guys about done bickering like an old married couple?” Killian interjects. “I’d like to get this shit ready for Aiden to pick up the bass track tomorrow. It’d be nice to show up to the studio on Monday with at least some semi-finished shit ready to go.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Chet laughs, launching another paper wad at my face, this time nailing me directly in the forehead. “Okay, now I’m ready,” he boasts, laughter vibrating through him.
“Fucking child,” I mutter under my breath before all the playfulness falls away.
We’re a bunch of fucking rowdy ass rockers, but when it’s time to work, we work. There’s a reason we’re soaring the charts right now. Because we know to be the best, you gotta fucking bring your best.
****
“Awe, look how cute.” That’s all it takes for my eyes to shoot open as I blink around the too bright room.
“What the fuck?” I grumble, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hands as I push up into a sitting position on the couch, my Fender still resting in my lap.
I look up to see Nora leaning against the doorframe, a cup of coffee in her hands, and that shit-eating smile across her face.
Looking next to me, I see Kill is passed out cold, his body slouched sideways as his head lays across the armrest of the couch. Chet is snoring loudly sprawled across the chaise, his drumsticks still clenched in one hand.
“Fuck.” I stretch my back, definitely feeling the effects of falling asleep in a weird position and staying that way for way too fucking long. “What time is it?” I look back up to Nora, who looks freshly showered and too fucking chipper for my liking.
“Just after eight. You guys must have really been onto something.” She gestures around the room at the mess of notes, lyrics jotted on random pieces of paper, and empty Red Bull cans stacked haphazardly on the table in front of me.
“Shit. I don’t even remember falling asleep,” I admit, pushing into a stand to stretch out my tight muscles.
“You guys were still going strong when I fell asleep just after three in the morning.” She sips her coffee, holding the pink mug between both of her hands. “I was thinking about running into town to grab some breakfast. Think I should wake him?” Her eyes flip to Killian.
“Nah, let the fucker sleep. I’ll go with you,” I offer, knowing it’s been far too long since we’ve hung out. So much shit has been going on recently.
“Yeah?” She gives me a sweet smile.
“Why not?” I shrug like it’s whatever, even though she knows I want to go. “Besides, I wanna swing by and check out Pete’s set up anyway, make sure I don’t need anything before we hit the studio.”
“Don’t you know the setup?” she questions.
“I don’t know what he’s done with the place over the last couple of years. Just thought it’d be nice to drop in, say hey, make sure we’re all set.”
“Look at you being the responsible one,” she playfully teases, her eyes following me as I cross the room toward the bottom of the open staircase. “Maybe the guys should have cut you off sooner.” She bites her bottom lip nervously when I hit her with a surprised look.
“Too soon?” She giggles, apology lacing her features.
“You’re lucky I fucking love you, Nor,” I warn playfully, even though the weight of her words hit me like a punch to the stomach.
I hate to think that’s how everyone views me. The drunk. The fuck up. The irresponsible one. Fuck. When did everything shift so fucking dramatically?
“Give me ten minutes.” I spin, disappearing up the stairs in a matter of seconds.
****
“Can I ask you something?” Nora bumps her shoulder into me as we make our way out of the studio and onto the sidewalk.
“What’s that?” I ask, squinting into the sun as I slide my sunglasses down onto my face.
“Are you okay?” I stop just feet from the front entrance of the studio, turning to face her head on.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I try to shrug off the heaviness I feel settling over this conversation; a conversation I’m really not in the mood to have.
“Don’t bullshit me, Gabe. You forget, I know you, and I know how hurt you were after the guys…” She pauses for a long moment.
“After they threatened to kick me out of the fucking band…” I finish her sentence, letting out a slow exhale around the words.
“Yeah,” she responds, apology clear in her deep green eyes.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” I rub my hand on top of her head, sending her hair flying in every direction.
“Stop.” She laughs, batting my hand away before trying to tame the mess I just made of her shoulder length locks. “Can you be serious even for two minutes?”
“I can get real serious when I need to.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her suggestively.
“Ugh,” she growls, laying a hand on my chest on a loud smack. “You’re impossible.” She laughs when I grab a hold of her and pull her into my arms.
“It’s sweet of you to worry, Nor,” I speak into her hair. “But I’m okay,” I say, giving her a tight squeeze before releasing her.
“You’re sure?” She pulls back, apprehension in her eyes.
“I’m sure.”
“Okay, then I’m not gonna say any more about it.” She takes a step back. “You know I’m here if you need me. No beating of dead horses will take place during our Gora time.” She laughs around the nickname we gave ourselves over a year ago.
God, I love this girl. She’s like my sister, my best friend, and one of the guys all wrapped into one. I thank fuck every day that Killian won her over, despite my best efforts to derail him. Had he not, I wouldn’t have this amazing woman in my life because we all know had she given me the time of day I would have most definitely fucked it up by now.
“Thank fuck,” I scream to the sky, causing her to laugh and shush me at the same time.
“Are you trying to create a mob of screaming girls?” She looks around, making sure no one is looking our way.
“Um, yes.” I chuckle.
“Like I said earlier… Impossible.” She rolls her eyes, snaking her arm through mine before pulling me toward the SUV waiting on the curb.
****
“How did you know I wanted to come here?” Nora hits me with curious eyes when I hold open the door to Abbotts, following her inside.
“Because Killian sent me on a muffin run for you last night.”
“He didn’t?” She giggles like a love-sick school girl.
Crossing through the nearly empty diner, we pass two tables in the center of the dining area that are both occupied by older couples before sliding into one of the booths along the far wall, away from the windows.
I take a seat across from Nora, watching Moe grab a newspaper from the counter before snagging a seat at the bar where he has a perfect view of us.
“Oh, he did.” I roll my eyes, continuing our conversation as I pick up a menu from behind the napkin holder pressed against the wall.
“Then where are my muffins?” she hisses, accusatory.
“They were out.” I shrug, quickly scanning the room.
We chose to go to the studio first in hopes of missing the breakfast rush. Moe wasn’t real keen on bringing me here during one of their busiest times of the day. I swear I feel like a child who can’t make his own decisions anymore.
I don’t know what I’m looking for, but a part of me was really hoping she would be here. Without looking in Nora’s direction, I continue with my earlier statement.
“I will tell you, though, you sure as shit got that Irish fucker wrapped around your little pinky.”
“Shut up.” She laughs, not missing the way my eyes are anywhere but on her.
Seconds later I feel her foot connect with my shin.
“Ouch. What the hell?” My gaze darts back toward her.
“Who are you looking for?” she whispers across the table.
“What? No one.” I lie.
“Bullshit. I know you.” She wags a finger at me. “Now spill.”
Just as I open my mouth to speak, I see her, her strawberry blonde hair catching the sun just right as she passes by the windows. Seconds later she’s pulling open the door and stepping inside. She’s even more beautiful this morning than she was last night.
Her hair is pushed over her shoulders, a fountain of waves that stop about halfway down her back. A light colored blue dress accents her slender, toned frame perfectly, causing me to suck in a ragged breath as I take her in.
I’m so mesmerized by how fucking beautiful she is, it takes several long moments before I even notice the little person toddling next to her, his hand wrapped tightly around her index and middle finger.