Bo & Ember

by Andrea Randall

  I laughed as Ember’s excitement filled the room. “I’ll tell him you approve.”

  She stopped suddenly, looking deadly serious. “No, you won’t. I will. You’re introducing him to me.”

  I sat next to her on the bed, facing her. “Well, with any luck, you’ll be able to see a lot of him. I know I did this room without you, but I told him I’d talk to you about doing the rest of the house.”

  “Really?”

  “You look concerned.”

  Her eyes scanned the room. “No … I mean … yes. Wait. Breathe. I think it’d be great, but I want to make sure that you really want to do this. I know this room must have felt like a huge step for you.”

  I placed my hand on her knee. “This house and this property hold lots of memories for me, Ember. But I also want to make new ones. I want this house to be us and our family. I’ll always have the memories. They won’t go away if we take down that awful wallpaper in the dining room.”

  A comically low growl came from her throat. “Thank God you said that. Truly. It’s hideous. It’s like everything that was wrong with the eighties, and wallpaper, threw up in that room!”

  We lay back on the bed next to each other, staring up at the sheer canopy as we laughed.

  “So,” Ember sighed, “recording an album and renovating the house? We really can’t do anything half-assed, can we?”

  “Nah,” I reached down and grabbed her hand, bringing it to my lips, “what fun would that be?”

  Ember

  Yardley and Bo were able to iron out the changes to the contract that allowed for us to record the album in our home. We would only have to travel to New York once the tracks were complete and ready for production.

  Bo and I had spent our first two weeks in New Hampshire unpacking, organizing, and packing up other things. Tyler was scheduled to do a quick walk-through with us in the morning to go over all of the decor concepts before we started officially recording in the afternoon.

  We wanted to see how evening recording sessions would work, because it would give us an opportunity to work with DROP during the day, when needed. Grounded Sound was going to send out an audio engineer to run the control room while Bo and I were in the studio. We’d been able to do it ourselves, just kind of playing around, but for a professional album we would need … well … professionals.

  Bo had left the house early for a DROP creative meeting, and promised he’d be back in time to record. We’d be recording four days a week, with three days off. This worked best for our vocal cords, and scheduling with Grounded Sound engineers. It wouldn’t take long to complete the album, even with that slightly relaxed schedule. We’d already knocked off a few songs while still in California.

  A light, but rapid knock on the front door pulled me out of my gaze from the kitchen window. We’d leave the kitchen untouched. Bo and Rae renovated it shortly after their parents’ death, and it still looked brand new. It was the most updated thing in the house, besides the master bedroom.

  Opening the door, I was greeted by a tall and slender man with short brown hair. He wore grey suit pants and a snug grey button-down vest to match, with a white collared shirt underneath it. And, a tie. He was sharp looking, and it was definitely Tyler.

  “Ember?” He smiled an almost offensively white smile. He had dimples in both cheeks and his eyes sparkled like he was perpetually twelve years old.

  “Tyler.” I nodded, and flashed my hours-long practiced professional smile. “Come in.”

  Tyler was everything I thought he’d be. I’d seen pictures of him in magazines, and his manicured presence before me looked nearly identical.

  “Should I call you Mrs. Cavanaugh?” He arched his eyebrow and a playful twinkle sparkled in his eyes.

  I shook my head. “Only if you want me to call you Mr. M.”

  “Fuck that,” he groaned.

  In an out of character move for how I normally interact with strangers, I threw my arms around his neck. He didn’t hesitate in squeezing me back.

  “It’s so great to meet you. I had no idea Bo was friends with you, though we never really sat around discussing interior design.”

  “Look around you,” he said as he pulled away. “It’s clear he’s never discussed it with anyone.”

  I laughed, pointing to the dining room. “What the hell is on those walls?”

  He shrugged. “Misery. That’s all I’ve got.”

  “Well, should I show you around?”

  Tyler set his bag on the chair in the entryway, pulling a professional-looking camera out. “Let’s go. I’ll take pictures to see where we are, and then in a few days I’ll be able to email you some ideas. I put the pictures on my computer and generate ideas.”

  “Do you have that cool program that allows you to virtually move walls and stuff?” I led Tyler into the dining room.

  “Watch HGTV much?” he teased.

  “Do you have a problem with them?” I asked, standing out of the way as he took pictures of the dining room from several angles.

  He shrugged. “It lacks inspiration most of the time. It’s watered down.”

  “You better be grateful that I watch it. That’s how I found out about you.”

  Tyler grinned from behind his camera. “Point taken. I like you. So,” he stood from his crouched position and ran his hands along the wall, “aside from the wallpaper, what else did you see happening in here?”

  For a few minutes, Tyler and I discussed the dining room. It felt awkward discussing changes to the house without Bo present, but he insisted he fully trusted Tyler and me. Tyler agreed with me that nothing needed to be done in the kitchen, save for a few color changes on the walls to brighten it up even more. After we worked our way through the living room and office, I led him upstairs.

  “How long have you and Bo been friends?”

  Tyler took a deep breath. “Since seventh or eighth grade, I guess? We got a lot closer sophomore year in high school.” He looked down, furrowing his brow.

  “What happened your sophomore year?” I didn’t know a whole lot about Bo’s high school years.

  When we reached the top of the stairs, Tyler leaned against the post. “We made the varsity football team.”

  My eyes widened, as it seemed Tyler suspected they would. I didn’t want him to know what I was thinking.

  “Exactly.” He seemed to read my mind. “We made the team, and a month later I came out of the closet. In retrospect, that was poorly timed. Seemed there were a band of assholes coming out of their douchebag closets at the same time.”

  “Wow,” I exhaled, “what happened?”

  Tyler swallowed hard, his brown eyes drifting somewhere far away. “Bo fought for me. A lot. Actual fights. He spent as much time in the principal’s office for his fists as he spent in class.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He nodded, and continued casually as if he’d told me this story before, despite the fact we’d just met. “One time in the locker room some guys had me backed against the lockers. It wasn’t that I couldn’t defend myself. I could have kicked their asses in a second. I just didn’t want to get in the habit of defending myself that way.” He paused, taking a cleansing breath. “In truth, I had no idea what the fuck I was thinking coming out on a football team in a small town. Anyway, Bo came in and lost his shit. The reputation of his temper had preceded him, given a fight with other teammates earlier in the week. The guys backed off before Bo had a chance to raise his fist. He quit the team that day.”

  I swallowed back some tears as I thought of a young Bo defending his friend. “But I’ve seen pictures of him from senior year homecoming.”

  “Turns out when the town’s golden boy walks away from his birthright, that gets more attention than a gay kid getting beat up.” Tyler’s venom was clearly directed to every person who hadn’t stood up for him. “I told him not to do it. Not to walk away. But, he refused. He said I was more important as a person than some letters sewn onto a shitty jacket.”

&nb
sp; I chuckled as a tear rolled down my face.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “the team held an emergency meeting without me or Bo. I don’t know what was said, but we were both asked back and neither of us had a problem from that day forward.”

  I sniffed and wiped the tears off my cheeks. “Did you stay on the team?”

  Tyler pushed his back off the post and smiled, wiping a tear off my chin. “Hell yeah! I was fucking amazing and I loved the sport. Plus, I wasn’t going to give those blockheads the satisfaction of seeing me walk away. It wasn’t all of them, but it was enough.”

  “And you didn’t have any more problems with them?”

  “Nope.” Tyler shrugged and walked toward the first door on the right. “Ready for more design talk? What’s in here?”

  I nodded. “Rae’s bedroom.” I couldn’t stop the inappropriate chuckle that came from my throat.

  The room was void of all of Rae’s things, but her presence was still very much in the walls and every nook and cranny. A single, unmade bed and an empty bookshelf were all that inhabited the room now, and I don’t think any of us knew how long it was supposed to stay that way.

  Thankfully, Tyler appreciated dark humor. “Wow, we can really show each other a good time, huh?”

  We pressed on, taking an hour to go through the bedrooms. Once we finished the visual tour of the house, Tyler had to go. He promised he’d send an email in the next few days incorporating what we’d discussed, and then we could plan a time to pick colors, fabrics, hardware, etc. I closed the door in a haze, checking the clock and seeing I had two hours before Bo would be home and Grounded Sound would be at our door.

  I wandered to our bedroom and curled up in our bed, my mind continuously going back to a vision of a rage-filled high school Bo. He’d always had a big heart for people, and it didn’t surprise me in the least that he’d stand up for a friend the way he did for Tyler. But, it was the savage passion behind his cobalt eyes that connected the dots for me.

  There was a dark storm brewing in Bo’s soul that he never let see the light of day. The thing about storms is, they rarely go quietly into the good night.

  “Honey, I’m home!” Bo hollered from the entryway in his best sitcom voice.

  “Go back to the nineteen fifties!” I shouted back from the kitchen. An ironic place for me to have been standing at that moment, I realized.

  Bo sauntered into the sunlit room, setting his bag on the table as he loosened his tie. He’d left while I was in the shower this morning, so I missed that he’d put on my favorite tie of his. Blue—the shocking color of his eyes—with the tiniest yellow pinstripes running diagonally across the silk.

  “Look at you.” I grinned as I turned from my project on the counter and leaned back. “I get the sexy businessman and the sexy rock star? Yes, please.”

  A low, playful noise started in his chest and vibrated his lips as they pressed into mine.

  Breathless, I batted my eyelashes. “How was your day, dear?”

  Bo walked to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of water, pouring a glass as he spoke with his back to me. “It was good. Everyone seems excited to have me back around more. David’s done a fabulous job at the helm while I’ve been gone, but it does something different for morale when we can all work together.”

  “That’s great.” I turned back to the counter.

  “Whatchya making?” he asked, bumping his hip into mine.

  “All kinds of gross hippie stuff,” I joked.

  Bo laughed. “Seriously I’ve never eaten better in my life than I have over the last two years.”

  “Well, I figured we should go down to the studio well fed so we don’t get all hangry at each other.”

  Bo and I both had the misfortune of a crap attitude when we were hungry. He’d blurted out hangry one day and I nearly died laughing. He’d said it was a real term and I should read a self-help book once in a while. I flipped him off and we went out to lunch.

  “We’ve still got an hour before Grounded Sound will be here, right?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I finished slicing the fruit and cheese and set it next to seaweed crackers. “Why?”

  He finished the last of his water and put his glass in the sink. “Put the knife down and come with me.”

  I laughed. “Did you really have to say ‘put the knife down’?”

  “I’d rather not have knives in the bedroom.” Bo stuck his tongue out and grabbed my hand, leading me through the dining room and up the stairs.

  “You’re on a mission.” I tightened my hand in his.

  “I’ve wanted my hands on your skin all day.” He certainly hadn’t left his boardroom attitude at the office. He was still in charge as he led me down the hallway, and that’s the way I liked it.

  Bo opened the door to our bedroom and his eyes immediately went to the white lights I’d strung around the top of the canopy over our bed.

  “You like?” I spun in a circle, holding out my arms.

  “I admit,” he started, trying to sound serious, “it’s hard for me to pay attention to anything other than you when I’m in here. But, these are a nice touch.”

  The first time we’d made love in our new room, it was weird for both of us. I can only say with certainty that it was weird for me, but Bo seemed hesitant as well. We didn’t discuss it, because sometimes you don’t need to discuss every detail, but things had slowly improved over the past two weeks.

  Now, there was no hesitation as I backed up toward the bed, and Bo followed, shrugging out of his grey suit coat and tossing it on the trunk by the foot of the bed. He pulled his tie over his head. When he threw it in the direction of his coat, I caught it mid-air.

  “We’ll keep this.” My cheeks were on fire at my suggestion.

  Bo’s eyebrows shot up. “For … what?”

  With my voice having ducked for cover, I whispered, “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

  “Oh,” he crooned, unbuttoning his shirt as I unbuttoned mine. “So I get the sexy dominatrix and the sexy rock star? Yes please.” He repeated my teasing from downstairs, only he was far from teasing.

  My fight or flight response clicked on, igniting a rush of adrenaline that sent me up onto the bed, grabbing the waistband of his pants as he followed.

  I licked my lips before speaking against his earlobe. “I like it when you say ‘please’.”

  “Jesus,” Bo panted as he pulled me against his sweat-soaked chest.

  I looked up at him and shrugged with a sly grin. “I missed you today.”

  He laughed a loud hard laugh that told me everything else was far away in his mind. The kind where his jaw was loose and his shoulders shook freely.

  “Crap.” Bo sat up quickly, resting against the headboard. “I totally forgot Tyler was supposed to come over today. Did he?”

  My stomach sank at the mention of his name. I nodded as I sat up.

  “Sorry I couldn’t be here to introduce you two. Are you okay? Did it not go okay, or something?” Bo leaned back, studying my face.

  I smiled. “Oh, God no. He’s a goddamn dream! We had a blast talking plans.”

  “So why that look on your face?”

  I shook my head. “It’s nothing.”

  If there was one thing I wanted to avoid, it was bringing up heavy subjects after sex. We ended up in those conversations so often when we were naked between the sheets. Sometimes it was a little bit of emotional overload.

  “Ember…”

  I shimmied my lower body under the blankets, not wanting to be stark naked for this discussion. Bo followed my lead.

  “We just got to talking, and I asked him how long you two had been friends…”

  Bo looked thoroughly lost. “And?”

  I sucked in as much air as I could while looking at my hands. If Bo hadn’t told me this story, there must have been a reason for it.

  Finally, I looked up. “He told me about high school. And the football team…”

  In an instant the tension returned
to Bo’s beautiful jaw. His eyes darkened as he looked down at his own hands. I couldn’t imagine what thoughts were scrolling through his mind. He was silent, so I spoke again.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about that … or about Tyler, for that matter? The only friend I’ve heard you mention is David’s son.”

  Bo shook his head, not speaking.

  “Bo. Bo, why didn’t you—”

  “Did he tell you the whole story?” he snapped without raising his voice.

  I shrugged. “I …I guess I don’t know since you hadn’t told me any of it.” I tried to keep my temper in check, since I didn’t know what was fueling this change in demeanor.

  Bo brought his hand to his mouth, closing his eyes as he took the same controlled breath he always took when he felt like he was losing emotional control. “It’s nothing.”

  He got out of bed after using my earlier phrase seemingly against me. He strode nude into the bathroom and shut the door. I heard the shower turn on.

  Arching my eyebrow to no one but my increasingly angry self, I slid out of bed and knocked on the door.

  No answer.

  “Bo?” I cleared my throat to make sure I wasn’t speaking with an unkind tone.

  The situation with Tyler clearly went much deeper than what Tyler had told me. That was concerning, given how emotionally gutted I was by the tale. I wanted to handle Bo with care, but I wasn’t about to let him start shutting me out.

  I knocked once more while entering, the warm steam and the scent of my eucalyptus oil filling my senses. “Bo?”

  I pulled the shower curtain open a fraction, peering in. Bo stood facing the torrent of scorching water, his head pressed against the tiled wall beneath the showerhead. Water pelted his neck and shoulders before cascading down the rest of his body.

  Slowly, I reached into the water and touched his shoulder. He didn’t flinch. He only straightened and lifted his hand to meet mine, tugging slightly.

  “Come on.” He nodded his head to the side, asking me into the shower.