Unraveling You Series: The Complete Set

by Jessica Sorensen

  “Hey,” she says, giving me a tentative wave.

  “Um . . . hey.” I have no clue who she is, but she acts like she knows me.

  “You don’t know who am I, do you?” she asks with a mixture of amusement and nervousness.

  I shake my head. “Sorry.”

  “No worries.” She rises from the barstool, scooping up a half-filled wine glass from the counter. “I’m Ava. I used to know your mother and father back when they lived in Wyoming. I was out here visiting and heard your father had a club, so I thought I’d stop by.”

  The name doesn’t ring a bell, but my parents rarely talk about the people they knew back in Wyoming.

  “That’s cool. You should track my dad down and say hi.” I scan the bar then the hallway that leads to my dad’s office. “He’s around here somewhere, more than likely in his office, but he wanders out here during performances.”

  “Lyric!” Sage hollers from the backstage area with his hands cupped around his mouth. “Time to get your ass up here!”

  I roll my eyes at him. “Sorry. I guess I have to go. But, seriously, go say hi to my father. I’m sure he’ll want to chat with you about the good ol’ days or whatever.”

  She offers me a small smile when I wave, and then I hurry through the crowd. My heavy boots clunk against the steps as I dash up the stairway to the backstage.

  “Dude, Sage, my bro, my friend, what are you thinking, screaming across the stage like that?” I ask as I duck behind the curtain. “My dad’s not going to be happy with you acting like a spastic mad man.”

  Sage gives me an innocent look. “I tried to text, but you didn’t answer.”

  I check my phone and realize the battery is now dead. “Has Ayden texted you yet?”

  Sage shakes his head. “And I’ve texted him like fifty times.”

  As I grow even more worried, I open my mouth to tell Sage to hand me his phone so I can call Lila and Ethan, but then the door to our right swings open.

  Ayden rushes inside with his guitar case in hand. “Sorry, I’m late. My car was being a pain in the ass and wouldn’t start.” His hair is dripping wet, water beads his skin, and his soaked grey shirt clings to his body.

  I gawk at him like a pervert.

  If you want to see perfection,

  Just look right in front of you.

  So gorgeous and flawless

  With dark, haunted eyes,

  Lips that taste so intoxicating,

  A body that . . .

  Good God, that body.

  I want touch it, run my hands all over him.

  “Lyric, did you hear what I said?” Ayden interrupts my lustful thoughts.

  I rip my eyes off his body. “Nope, not a damn word.”

  He inquisitively glances down at his shirt then back at me. “You okay?”

  “Yep, I’m great. I was just”—I shrug—“checking your sexy body out.”

  Astonishingly, he doesn’t blush as our gazes meld. It’s been a week since we got caught in his bedroom, and we’ve been trying to behave ourselves, but behaving has increased the sexual tension to about an . . . oh, eleven hundred.

  Sage clears his throat and shatters the moment into oblivion.

  Even though he seems fine with Ayden and me being together, sometimes, when we show a little PDA, he gets annoyed.

  “Why didn’t you answer your texts?” Sage asks Ayden as he stuffs his drumsticks into the back pocket of his jeans.

  Ayden blinks his attention away from me. “You texted me?” When Sage nods, he pats his pockets. “Shit, I must have left my phone at the therapist’s office.”

  “You scared us,” I tell Ayden. “Or at least me. I think Sage was more worried we wouldn’t have a guitarist.”

  “Hey, I was kind of worried,” Sage gripes. “I’m not that big of a douche.”

  “Fine, we were all worried.” I lower my voice and lean in toward Ayden. “I thought something bad happened.”

  “It wasn’t anything like that. Just car trouble, like I said. Everything’s fine, though. The detective following me around helped me jumpstart it.” He shakes his head, showering me with water.

  “Gee, thanks for the shower,” I tease, raising my hand to wipe the water off my face. “Is he still keeping an eye on you?”

  “Yeah. Lila says it’ll only be for a bit longer since nothing has happened in the last few weeks.” He steps forward and gently brushes his fingers across my cheeks and lips. “I need you not to worry about me so much. I don’t want you to panic every time I’m late.” He places a featherlight kiss on my mouth. “I hate thinking that I stressed you out.”

  He tastes minty and smells like rain. I breathe in the scent and taste, softly sighing against his mouth like a lovesick girl.

  “I can’t stop worrying about you.” My eyelashes flutter as he tangles his fingers through my hair. “It’s part of the job title as your best friend.”

  A soft groan slips from Ayden’s lips as his hands travel down my back.

  Sage clears his throat again. “Get a room, would you? Jesus, it’s like one step away from watching porn.”

  Ayden shakes his head at Sage. “So, what did I miss?” he asks me as he sets his guitar case on the floor.

  “Well, we go on in, like, thirty,” I tell him then shoot Sage a conniving smile. “And Sage has been pissing his pants that you weren’t going to show up.”

  Sage glares at me. “Yeah, right. You’re the one freaking out, and not just about Ayden.”

  “What else are you freaking out about?” Ayden asks me with concern.

  I give a shrug. “I already told you that I still get nervous every time we’re about to perform.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “You could talk to me about something else. Take my mind off stuff.”

  Nodding, he takes my hand and leads me back to the corner of the room. When he sits down on the floor, he pulls me down with him so we’re sitting across from each other.

  “So, I’ve been talking to my therapist about that experimental therapy I told you about a while ago,” he starts, resting against the wall.

  “The one Lila doesn’t want you to do?” I crisscross my legs and rest back on my hands.

  He nods, fiddling with the leather bracelet I gave him. “But I’m not really sure she has any say in it anymore.”

  My head cocks to the side. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I’m eighteen and technically don’t need a guardian’s permission to go through with the therapy.” He leans forward and tugs on my arm, so I sit up straight. Then he laces his fingers through mine. “I don’t want it to come to that,” he says, staring down at our hands, “but, at the same time, I can’t stop thinking about Sadie and how, if I could just see the people’s faces, then maybe the police could track her down and make some arrests.”

  I take a minute or two to prepare myself for what I’m going to say next. “I get what you’re saying—I really do—but what are the risks, exactly? I mean, how dangerous are we talking?”

  “There’s a short list of them,” he answers with hesitancy. “Like memory loss and stress on the heart, but if the therapy’s done right, then nothing should go wrong.”

  I make a mental note to search online for the side effects. If they’re bad, then I’m going to talk him out of it. The last thing I ever want is for him to get hurt or, worse, lose him. My heart aches just thinking about it.

  “Look, I get that, no matter what, it’s kind of risky. And it’s not going to be easy . . . seeing the stuff I’ve forgotten. I know my mind blocked it out for a reason.” With his free hand, he scratches his head. “But I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t at least try. And I really need you to support me and be there for me.”

  Dammit. He said he needs me. There goes my plan of talking him out of it.

  “All right, I can do that, I guess. But I’m not going to lie; I’m scared of what’s going to happen. I don’t . . .” I swallow hard. “I don’t
want to lose you.” Because I love you.

  I’m in love with you.

  Love you so much

  I feel like I’m going to combust,

  Shatter into pieces that scatter

  Through the wind and rain,

  Blow away and get lost.

  Lost, lost, lost

  In my love for you.

  Now he’s the one to gulp. “You won’t. I promise.”

  “Hey, you two love birds, we’re up!” Nolan shouts mockingly from behind us.

  I crinkle my nose. “Sometimes, I wish you and I could just be a duo.”

  He smiles thoughtfully. “That’d be nice, but considering I can’t sing, it’d be more of a solo and a half band.”

  “It still sounds better right now.” I push to my feet and tug my skirt into place. “Those two are getting on my nerves.”

  He strokes my cheekbone with his finger. “Want me to throw a basketball at them to see if I can get them to shut up? I mean, I do still owe you for that.”

  Smiling, I ponder the idea. “While I know you’re kidding, I’m seriously considering it.”

  “Well, let me know when you decide,” he jokes, crouching down to unlatch his guitar case. “I’m going to go hurry and dry off the best I can before we go on.”

  “Why? You rock the wet shirt look pretty well.”

  He keeps his head tucked down. “Maybe, but I’d feel super awkward.”

  “Well, you look sexy when you’re awkward, too.” I plant a kiss on the top of his head then squeeze through the curtains and skip off to set up with Sage and Nolan.

  A few racing heartbeats later, Ayden joins us and hooks up his guitar to the amp while I adjust the microphone stand. The lights beam brightly and blind me to the point where I can hardly see anyone in the room. Still, I know they’re all out there, and those crazy ass butterflies in my stomach start taunting me again.

  Thankfully, about a minute later, Sage slams the sticks against the drums, and Ayden strums the strings of his guitar. The sounds of the instruments block out my focus on the audience as my lips part.

  “Rush. Rush. Rush.

  My heart is rushing like the rain,

  Erasing every ounce of pain from my body

  And spilling it below me.

  My sins bleed into the water,

  Soaking through the ground.

  Rush. Rush. Rush.

  I close my eyes and feel myself disappear.

  A skeleton of myself, a ghost of my soul,

  I’ll never give in to anyone.

  I’ll never go through this again.

  Rush. Rush. Rush.”

  The lyrics are more morbid than what I normally sing, but I wrote them on a whim while I was bored one day and watched way too many depressing movies. When I sang it to my dad, he thought it rocked awesomeness, so I shared it with the band.

  It’s the first time I’ve sung it on stage before. The upbeat tempo has the crowd going wild, dancing and head banging, feeding me with the fuel I need to really get into the performance.

  By the time I sang our full set, I’m dripping with sweat and grinning as I bounce backstage. Sage and Nolan high-five me on their way out, but Ayden seems a bit distracted. He passes by me without so much as a glance in my direction.

  “What’s up?” I chase after him, back past the curtain and to the flat area near the exit doors.

  He carefully sets his guitar in the case. “It’s nothing.” His brows dip. “I just . . . I just had the strangest feeling someone was watching me, but I can’t figure out why.”

  “Did you maybe see someone in the crowd that you know?”

  “No, it’s not that . . .” He trails off then shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m just being paranoid.” When he faces me, he forces a smile. “Let’s go celebrate your amazing performance.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I want to celebrate my awesome performance, too.” His lips quirk with genuine amusement.

  I thrum my fingers together evil-villain style. “Hmmm, whatever shall we do?”

  “Party.” Sage appears out of nowhere like a freaking ninja with a bottle of champagne in his hand.

  “Dude, did you jack that from the bar?” I reach for the bottle.

  He dodges out of my reach. “Actually, I stole it from my mom’s fridge. She has at least ten bottles of it, so she won’t notice.” He looks down at the bottle. “Although, I wish it were a bottle of Bacardi.” He shrugs then grips the bottle in front of him and, with his thumb, pops the cork.

  The bottle hisses and foam shoots all over the floor. I jump out of the path of the spraying foam while Sage takes a swig then offers me the bottle.

  I take the drink from him. “I’m down, but you’ve totally got to take the fall for the mess on the floor if my dad finds out. I’m already on thin ice with him.” I angle my head back and chug some champagne.

  “Why? What’d you do?” Nolan asks, intrigued, as he joins our circle. He snatches the bottle from me after I lower it from my mouth and downs at least a quarter of the bottle.

  I shrug, giving a discreet glance at Ayden. “Just some stuff.”

  “Stuff as in . . .” Sage’s shifty gaze moves back and forth between Ayden and me questioningly. “Okay, never mind. Forget I asked.” He pats his pockets. “I think I’m going to go outside and smoke.” Which is code for him going outside, smoking, then hooking up with the first decent looking girl he can find.

  He strides toward the exit door and pushes outside. Nolan throws back another swallow of champagne then shoves the bottle at me and hurries after Sage.

  I take another sip then turn to Ayden. “You want some?” I ask, even though he more than likely will decline.

  Neither of us are big drinkers, and Ayden doesn’t like doing it because he feels like he’s acting like his old self, the person he was before Aunt Lila and Uncle Ethan adopted him. So, I’m a bit startled when he grabs the bottle from me and takes a few swallows.

  “You’re suddenly in a weird mood,” I remark as he hands the bottle back to me.

  “I’m feeling pretty okay right now, maybe even good.” He laces his fingers through mine then stares at our interlocked hands with the faintest smile on his lips. From the sight of it, my insides get all gooey, like melted chocolate. “I was thinking we could hang out tonight and talk.”

  Interesting, since he has never been a big talker.

  “Okay, you want to go home, then, and hang out in one of our rooms? Or did you have something else in mind?”

  “Remember the spot near the bridge that we used to hang out at back before we could drive?” he asks, and I excitedly bob my head up and down. “I was thinking we could go there.”

  Goddamn those butterflies. They come to life the moment he says it. What the hell are they expecting to happen exactly?

  “Yeah, we can do that.” I raise the bottle to my mouth and throw back a couple more sips. “I’ll go tell my dad we’re leaving and meet you at the car?”

  Nodding, he collects his guitar case, and we part ways. I head down the metal stairs to the main floor, past the busy bar, and down the hallway right as the next band starts playing. Music flows through the building like warm honey and vibrates the floors.

  “They have a good beat,” I comment aloud. “But we are definitely better.” I abandon the bottle of champagne before I reach the last door. “Hey, old man,” I tease as I enter my dad’s cluttered office. The walls are decorated with old music memorabilia, and the desk is covered with papers and wrappers. “I’m taking off. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything.”

  My dad glances up from some papers on his desk. He’s sporting his bedhead/fauxhawk, and he has a half empty beer next to him. “I actually needed to talk to you . . . Is the rest of your band still here?”

  I shake my head and sink down in a chair across from his desk. “Nah, Nolan and Sage are doing God knows what, and Ayden’s waiting for me out in the car.”

  My dad scrunches hi
s nose. “You guys are going straight home, right?”

  “We might make a stop or two on the way.”

  He frowns in disapproval. “I’d rather you go straight home.”

  “I won’t be out late.” I flash him a devious grin. “And don’t worry, I put that condom Mom gave me in my pocket.”

  His skin pales. “Lyric, that isn’t funny.”

  “It kind of is, though.”

  He rakes his fingers through his hair. “You’re too much like me. It’s driving me crazy.”

  “You used to think that trait was endearing.” When he continues to veer toward a meltdown, I decide to let him off the hook. “Look, I wasn’t lying the other night when I said I wasn’t having sex yet, so would you please chill out? You’re a cool dad and everything, but this whole awkward, freak-out thing you’ve been doing for the last week is making you lose mad cool points.”

  He rubs his hand down his face, leaving red marks on his skin. “I just don’t want you to mess up your life by making a mistake.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” I draw an X across my heart. “Now, can you tell me what you wanted to talk to my band about, because it’s been driving me crazy since you said it?”

  “I said it a whole minute ago.” He pauses, and I can tell he wants to bug me more about being careful but decides to drop it. “I think I might have an opportunity coming up for you guys.”

  I lean forward in the chair, eager to hear more. “What kind of an opportunity?”

  His fingers wrap around his beer. “A tour kind of opportunity.”

  “Are you shitting me?” I bounce up and down with excitement.

  “No, I’m not shitting you.” He opens his drawer, pulls out a paper, and slides it across the desk to me. “It’s this summer. It’s not a huge tour or anything, and the bands are pretty unknown, but I think, for your first gig, this could be a really good thing.”

  “A really good thing.” I snatch up the paper, jump from the chair, and run around the desk, throwing my arms around him. “This is the most awesomest thing ever.”

  He hugs me back. “Don’t get too excited yet. You still have to see if everyone in your band can go, and we have to check with your mother and make sure it’s okay. I know she’s been talking to you about college.”