by Meghan Quinn
“You have everything to live for, Rook, and you’re staying with me at my parents. I have a bed ready for you and a clean room and clothes. Please, come back with me.”
“I can’t. I just fucking can’t,” Rook said, defeated.
“You can, Rook. You deserve more than this. If anything, do it for the guys; we care about you and have been worried sick. We need you, buddy, not just for the band, fuck the band, we just need you in our lives. You’re our brother.”
Rook’s head slowly tilted up and Grey finally saw the dark circles under his eyes and the beard that was caressing his face. His hair was longer and he looked almost unrecognizable. Grey hid the cringe from his face at taking in the deteriorated look of one of his best friends.
“Please, come with me, Rook.”
Grey held out his hand, and Rook took a long look at it before placing his hand In Grey’s, so he could lift him off the ground. The first thing Grey noticed when Rook stood up was the way his pants hung off his sunken hips. His upper body was still muscular, but he could definitely eat a burger or five.
Grey looked around and said, “We don’t need to grab anything, do we?”
Rook leaned down and plucked a notebook off the ground and held it to his chest. “This is all I need.”
Nodding his head, Grey helped Rook out of the house and made sure to talk to Pete about getting rid of the rotten home. Rook didn’t need it hovering over his head; the house needed to be gone, off of his plate, and out of his life. All the house was doing to Rook was destroying him, minute by ugly fucking minute.
When Grey got Rook situated in his car, he sent a text to his mom that he was bringing Rook home with him, and he needed some clothes and a room to sleep in. His mom texted back that she would have everything ready for Rook in half an hour.
When Grey got into the car, he was hit by the stench that was Rook. Politely, he started his car and rolled down the windows.
With an apologetic look, Grey tossed Rook a side smile and said, “Sorry, dude, but you kind of smell like rotten ass.”
A small smile crossed Rook’s lips as he leaned his head back against the head rest and said, “Yeah, tell me about it.”
Feeling confident with Rook’s new demeanor, Grey pulled away from the house that haunted Rook and vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to keep Rook as far away from his old dwelling as possible.
They drove down Interstate 5 and listened to music as the air whipped through the rolled down windows. Rook stared out the passenger side, with his arm resting on the door frame. He looked almost content; it was odd to see such a quick transition from a scared man, crying out for his dad not to hurt him, to a relaxed one.
A sign for an In and Out indicated that there was one in a mile, so Grey cut to the right hand lane of the 5 freeway and got off at the exit. With excellent maneuvering, Grey pulled into the In and Out and rolled up to the drive through. Before he pulled up, he grabbed a hat and sunglasses from his glove box and put them on.
Rook gave him a questionable look, and Grey clarified, “I don’t need people noticing me right now. We don’t have a problem with them recognizing you, since you look like a Goddamn drunken yeti.”
That garnered a chuckle out of Rook, as he nodded his head and looked over at where they were.
“Not hungry,” he said curtly, as his gaze retuned to the outside.
“Don’t fucking care. You’re two days away from being able to fit into a teenage girl’s pants.”
“That statement sounds so wrong,” Rook countered.
“You’re eating,” Grey countered back, not wanting to clarify himself.
After pulling through the drive-through, Grey tossed two double doubles, animal style, minus the tomato, along with animal style fries and a large Neapolitan milkshake, over to Rook.
“If you don’t eat that by the time I get to my house, my mom is going to hand feed it to you, so you can either feed yourself like a big boy, or have my mom coo all over you while making choo choo noises and feeding you fry by fry.”
“Well…fuck,” Rook said, as he opened the bag and took out a burger. He took a big bite, and then returned his gaze back out the window.
Grey wanted to ask him what the hell he was thinking, what was going through his head, but the boy was eating, Grey didn’t want to push his luck. He was going to settle with the fact that he found Rook, had him in his possession, and was feeding him. Talking would come later; for now, he was going to focus on just getting the man showered, shaved, and healthy.
**Rook**
Journal Entry #171
Showers make a difference in the way a person feels. I’m sitting on a comfortable twin bed, I’m showered and shaved, my hair is pushed out of my face temporarily, and I have clean clothes on my back. My stomach is full, and I have caring people watching over me. I should feel happy; I should feel saved, but I don’t. I feel the damn same, but instead of being able to hide in my dark hole where no one can see me, I feel exposed.
I tried to show my gratefulness to Grey for bringing me into his home, but all I want to do is leave. I tried to leave after my shower, but Grey gave me that look, that pleading look that said, “Don’t leave me.”
The poor bastard is hurting too, but in a different way. I saw right past his Quinn façade. He didn’t love her; I knew he didn’t. What’s hurting him is his need for Willow, like my need for Maisy, but the difference between Grey and I is that he can live his life without Willow. I can’t live my life without my edgy angel. She is my breath, my very soul; life doesn’t exist without her in it. Simple as that.
Chapter Six
**Cruz**
Brunch was all set, but Willow and her friend were nowhere to be found. Cruz felt like a total tool holding brunch at his house for Willow, but usually brunch turned into a fuck fest that led to sticky maple syrup sex and donut blow jobs. How could he not hold brunch with a lineup like that?
Cruz had begun to really love Sundays, but not hearing from Willow in a couple of days, coupled with the fact that she’d invited a friend, made Cruz grumpy, because he knew the Sunday he was looking forward to wasn’t going to be the Sunday he wanted.
Good news came last night when Grey called Cruz to let him know he’d found Rook. Apparently, the fucker had lodged himself in the depths of his closet, so that was why Cruz kept missing him when he checked Rook’s old house. The only reason Grey was clued in on someone being in the house was because of a wet spoon, a fucking wet spoon. Apparently, Cruz wasn’t that observant; he wasn’t prepared to look for wet spoons.
It didn’t matter who found him, because Rook was alive, thank God, and he was being watched over by Grey, the most responsible one in the group. Grey was going to get Rook to go to the Grammys and clean the boy up. Apparently, according to Grey, the guy smelled like absolute piss and looked like a deranged yeti. Cruz begged for pictures for blackmail purposes, but Grey seemed to think it was insensitive. Fuck that, that’s what the group did; they picked on each other. It would be more like a welcome home. It was almost unnatural not to give each other grief, especially when they let themselves turn into psychotic mountain men.
Checking his phone again, Cruz huffed because Willow still hadn’t texted him back. The silence was starting to get on his nerves. Had she found someone else? The thought of her with another man was annoying to think of, because he was a desperate man, and he didn’t have another woman lined up. He needed a good fuck, badly.
There was a knock on his door that pulled him from his thoughts.
“Finally,” he muttered to himself, even though it was only ten minutes past their designated brunch time.
When he opened the door, he wasn’t greeted by Willow’s bright blonde and pink hair; no, he was staring down at an olive-skinned girl with long black hair that fell to her waist; a pair of deep brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, stared back up at him.
A little taken aback, Cruz looked around for a second and said, “Can I help you
?”
She adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder and looked up at him with some of the longest natural eyelashes he had ever seen. “Um, hi, I’m Maelani. I’m looking for Willow and her friend Cruz, I believe.”
The first thing that took Cruz by surprise, besides the fact that she was absolutely stunning, was that she was staring directly at him, but had no clue who he was…not that he needed people to recognize him, but it just surprised him. The second thing was the petite frame on the girl, but she was blessed with one of the most amazing racks he had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but stare at them.
“Are they not here?” the girl asked nervously, as she shifted from side to side.
Cruz cleared his throat and said, “Sorry, I’m Cruz. Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, sorry about that; I wasn’t quite sure who I was meeting today,” she said with a slight smile.
“That’s okay. Willow isn’t here yet, but you can come in and make yourself comfortable.”
“She’s not here?” Maelani asked nervously, while she looked around. “Well, I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not at all,” Cruz opened his door and gestured for her to come in.
With one last look behind her, she walked into his house. He didn’t like that she was so skittish about trusting him. Granted, she literally just met him, but he was friends with Willow; he wasn’t some kind of creeper who lured women in with the promise of a nice brunch. Not his style.
“Wow, your place is nice,” Maelani said, as she looked around.
“Thank you,” Cruz responded, as he walked behind her, taking in the glorious sight of her ass.
She smiled over her shoulder and took in all the pictures of him and the band that lined his hallway walls.
“You play the guitar?”
“Yup, best guitarist you’ll ever meet.”
“I’m sure of it,” she smiled again at him, and then returned to the pictures. Cruz could feel her instantly start to warm up to him, and he liked it.
“Can I take your purse?”
“Oh, I guess,” she handed it to him, and he hung it up in the coat closet off of the hallway.
As they continued to walk down the hallway, Cruz asked, “So, how do you know Willow?”
“Foster sister. We were in a house together, the last house for both of us, actually. I left when I was seventeen to be with my boyfriend.”
For some reason, a flash of disappointment washed over Cruz’s body as he thought about Maelani being attached to someone. He quickly shook off that feeling, though, because he must have momentarily lost his mind. He didn’t even know the girl.
“Cool, you still with your boyfriend?” Why did he just ask that?
She looked up at him and shook her head, no. “He didn’t turn out to be the person I thought he was.” She shrugged her shoulders and said, “You live and you learn.” She tried to act flippant about her comment, but Cruz could see right through her, because her eyes conveyed pain, damage. There was more to the story that she wasn’t telling.
“I guess so,” Cruz responded awkwardly, not really good with small talk. “Do you want to make a plate of food? I have a lot of food for three people, well two right now.”
“Sure, I’m starving.”
She was cute, Cruz couldn’t help but think, as he guided her to the kitchen where he had everything displayed in dishes on the counter. He wasn’t a heathen when it came to brunch, so he at least used serving ware, but that was the extent of his fanciness.
“Wow, I should have worn my stretchy pants,” Maelani said, as she walked around the island of Cruz’s kitchen and took in all the food Cruz had a chef put together, yeah, he didn’t cook. “Did you make all of this?”
Cruz laughed and said, “It boosts my ego that you think I can cook so well.”
“I take that as a no.”
“No,” he shook his head. “But I taste tested some things, if that counts for anything.”
“Testing for poison?” she asked, as she picked up a strawberry and tossed it in her mouth.
He watched as her tongue licked the corner of her lips as she reveled in the taste of the strawberry; it was almost erotic to watch the girl take down a strawberry. Was he really that desperate for sex that someone eating a strawberry was turning him on?
He cleared his throat and shifted his position. “Yeah, poison.”
“Did you find any?” she asked, while she sucked the strawberry juice off of her fingers.
The way her perfectly pink lips sucked on her fingers and floated in and out of her mouth had him starting to sweat with need. Yup, he was desperate.
“Um, what’s that?” he asked, trying to get his head away from dirty thoughts of the girl.
“Poison, did you find any?”
“Oh, um, no,” Cruz replied like an idiot. He was losing his cool and fast.
She approached him and looked up at him through her eyelashes, those long black eyelashes that framed her eyes ever so perfectly.
“You seem distracted; are you worried about Willow?”
She was too close; he could smell the sweet scent of her perfume coming off of her body. Her hair swayed back and forth as she walked and studied him, and the shirt that was clinging to her chest was begging to be ripped off. Cruz wanted to see what was underneath, desperately.
“I am distracted,” he said, while looking her up and down.
Maelani understood his comment and a blush crept over her face as she stepped away. She was about to respond when the front door to Cruz’s home opened and was slammed shut.
“I’m sorry, I’m late,” Willow’s voice rang out, dampening the mood between Maelani and Cruz.
Cruz tore his gaze off of the beauty in front of him to find Willow. She stepped into the kitchen looking slightly disheveled, like she hadn’t showered yet.
Cruz looked at her in confusion and said, “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she swept her hair out of her face, revealing dark circles under her eyes. “Umm, can I take a quick shower, maybe borrow a shirt?”
“Sure,” Cruz responded.
Willow smiled at him and then turned her gaze on Maelani, who looked a little startled by Willow’s appearance.
“Maelani! You made it.” Willow went up to her and pulled her into a hug that Maelani reciprocated. “I’m so glad you’re here. So, I see you met Cruz. Isn’t he just gorgeous?”
Maelani looked Cruz up and down and said, “He really is.”
Shocked, Cruz’s eyebrows shot up to the edge of his hairline at Maelani’s statement. His body heated from her perusal of his physique, sending that wave of heat through his veins and straight to his cock.
Clapping her hands, Willow looked at Cruz and said, “Behave while I’m gone, but if I happen to find you two fucking on the counter when I get back, at least let me watch.”
“Willow…” Maelani said with embarrassment, but Willow just slapped her ass, kissed her on the cheek, and twiddled her fingers bye.
Cruz watched Willow retreat up his stairs and to his bathroom, leaving him alone with Maelani once again. The knowing fact that they both found each other attractive and Willow didn’t care if they fucked or not was lingering in the room as they stood awkwardly, trying to figure out what to do. Willow’s statement shouldn’t be a surprise to him; of course she didn’t care what Cruz did. Their relationship was open…that was the arrangement they had.
The tension in the kitchen continued to build as Maelani and Cruz stared at each other, not really knowing what to do. They were supposed to be eating brunch, but once Willow brought sex into the conversation, it was all Cruz could think about. By the look in Maelani’s eyes, the same thoughts were running through her mind.
Clearing his throat again, Cruz said, “Um, would you like a waffle?”
Maelani licked her lips and nodded her head.
Holy shit, his cock just grew an inch from the sweet, yet seductive look on her face. Tearing his gaze off of hers, he grabbed a pl
ate and placed a waffle from the oven on a plate for her and then placed it on the counter. He grabbed a waffle for himself as well and some eggs. Maybe if he fed his appetite with actual food, he could get his mind off of throwing Maelani on the counter and ripping her clothes off.
Silently, they worked their way around the counter, gathering food on their plates. Cruz chuckled to himself as he watched Maelani stack her plate high with food; she had no shame in eating in front of a man, and Cruz loved that.
Once they had their plates full, they sat down in the kitchen nook and started eating in silence. Willow really put a damper on their conversation, not that it was riveting talk beforehand, but she’d made it quite awkward for both of them.
“How’s your waffle?” Cruz asked, trying to strike up some kind of conversation.
“Good,” she answered, while licking her fork and looking at him seductively.
Cruz had no clue what the fuck to think of Maelani. She gave off an innocent shy vibe, but then turns around, eye fucks him, and starts licking her fork. Cruz could not be more confused by the signals she was sending him.
“Good,” Cruz replied, while shifting in his seat.
Silence fell upon them again, so Cruz took the opportunity to study Maelani a little bit more. Her hair was so silky looking, he longed to feel it, and her eyes were mysterious, so dark it was almost like they were hiding something. She was of Hawaiian descent; it was obvious from her features. And that shirt she was wearing made it look like she wasn’t wearing a bra, because it clung to every single curve of her chest.
“Eyes up here, Cruz,” she interrupted his thoughts.
If he wasn’t such a cocky bastard, he might have been ashamed of his blatant staring, but he wasn’t. She was damn fine.
“Sorry, just wondering whether you’re wearing a bra or not,” he stated, feeling his old self starting to come alive again.
“And why is that your business?” she asked, while grabbing some whipped cream with her finger and sucking it off the end. She knew exactly what she was doing, and Cruz, for the life of him, couldn’t look away.
