"Mmm," she protested, half asleep.
"I need your keys."
"Pocket," she mumbled, snuggling into my neck and sighing.
"Jesus," I hissed through my clenched teeth. I braced her up with my knee against the porch rail and then slid my hand into her pocket. I wasn't feeling the heat of her thighs, I wasn't thinking about how close my hand was to... to... "Rachel, can you stand up for me?" I growled, setting her down a little too roughly.
She was too drunk to notice how I tugged at the crotch of my jeans. She just leaned against the side of the house and mumbled something before smiling. I was clenching my teeth so hard I was getting a headache. "Thank fuck," I muttered when I finally got the door unlocked. "Can you make it in?"
She mumbled again, her head lolling. Fuck, she was really far gone. I stepped in, catching her just as she pitched forward. "Okay," I winced as my hand accidentally brushed her breasts. "Fuck, ah, okay, right in here, right? Let's get you in bed. Right, good girl, just like that, no, lie on your side, here, I'll get the wastepaper basket." I set it on the floor right next to her head. "There."
"...iced tea," she slurred.
"What was that?"
But she passed out.
I stood there for a moment, unsure what to do. Her waist length hair was tumbled all over her in a curtain, which would get pretty gross if she ended up puking. With my lips pressed together, I gathered the silky strands up in my fist, pulling them back from her face and then tucking them all back into her shirt. She let out a muttering sigh and shifted in her sleep, then moaned.
"Okay," I said aloud. "You're okay now, right?" Of course there was no answer. I shifted in place, watching her breathing even out. “You're going to be fine now," I said, more for my benefit. But I still wasn't moving away from her. I still wasn't leaving her alone.
I couldn't leave her alone.
"Fuck it," I grumbled. I took one more look at the beautiful face, those plump, parted lips.
Then I undressed and made a pillow of my clothes. I checked her one more time, then fell asleep on her floor.
Chapter Three
Rachel
Everything hurt. My head hurt. My stomach hurt. My hair and my eyelashes somehow even hurt.
I tried to open my eyes and moaned when I finally succeeded. The sun was like a knife driven right into between my eyebrows. I tried to clap my hand over my face, but the motion made the room start spinning. "Merciful God," I groaned and shut my eyes again.
There was a soft sound of footsteps outside my bedroom door. I must have woken Everly. "Hey," I croaked, licking my parched lips. "Would you mind getting me a glass of water?"
"If you have water right now, you're just going to puke," came a deep, sleep-clogged voice.
I shot straight up in bed and stared at Beau. Merciful heavens, what was he doing there, standing in my doorway all shirtless and rumpled and looking like every kind of sin I'd been warned against? I stared at him just long enough for his mouth to kick upward into a smile...
And then everything hurt again. I wondered if I had the flu. My little sister Miriam had said it felt like this when she got it. Everything hurting,
I fell back onto the bed, feeling like I'd been kicked in the stomach by a cow. "Dear Lord above," I panted.
"Do you have any juice in the house? I'll mix you up something to help your electrolytes."
I had no idea what he was on about, but I nodded weakly. "In the fridge." Talking felt like dying.
I heard his step on the floorboards as he walked back down the narrow hall that separated my room from Everly's.
Everly who had left for Gabe's house early this morning.
Everly was not here.
But Beau somehow was?
I squeezed my eyes shut - even that hurt somehow - and tried to piece together how it was that Beauregard King was in my house right now. We’d become friends once Everly and Gabe started dating, but there was no way anything more had happened. He was famous in the secular world. He’d want a girl who didn’t seem so sheltered and naive. He wasn't... oh heavens no, he hadn't been in my bed last night… right?
A flutter of terror in my stomach made the contents rise. For all his sweetness, Beau was from a family steeped in worldliness. And while I didn't follow the laws of the Chosen anymore, I couldn't shake the warning voice inside of me. He was in a rock and roll band, it hissed. Satan's music.
And he had stayed the night. Where? In here?
I clapped my hand over my mouth and rolled to the side, noting with muted surprise that there was a garbage can already sitting there at the ready. "Oh no," I breathed, touching my lips, my body, checking, checking...
Everything felt fine. Normal even. Flu aside of course.
I swallowed hard and willed my stomach to settle. Beau - terrifying, fascinating Beau - was in my house, but it seemed like he had... slept on the couch?
Why?
"Here you are." Beau reappeared at my doorway, and I was relieved that he had put on a shirt. He handed me a glass and laughed when I squinted at it suspiciously. "It's apple juice with honey and some salt." He grinned wider when I wrinkled my nose. "It'll replace what you lost drinking last night. It should help that headache, as should this." He opened his fist and offered me two white pills.
I glanced down at what he was offering and back up again. It was sweet that he was trying to take care of me, but there was one small problem. "I didn't have anything to drink last night."
He raised an eyebrow.
I shook my head and then regretted it. But he was wrong. "I didn't drink last night," I protested, louder now. "I didn't want to miss any of Everly's goodbye, so I specifically stuck with iced tea... why are you laughing?" I demanded.
He was. I scowled as he laughed so hard he had to set down the drink. My mouth was a desert. I wanted so badly to reach for it, but not when he was laughing at me like this.
He caught a glimpse of my face and tried to pull himself together. "I'm sorry, you said iced tea, right?"
"Yes," I grumbled. My thirst won out and I reached for the drink he'd brought me. The salty, sweet mixture felt odd on my tongue, but I was too parched to care.
"Hey, hey," he said, reaching out and pulling the glass from my lips. His hazel eyes were concerned. "Slow down," he said. "You're going to make yourself sick."
"I'm already sick," I said. "I think I have the flu. It's too hot in here, can you open the window?"
He was smiling for some reason when he leaned over my bed to push my sticky window up, letting in the cacophony of birds. "Oh hush," I spat at them, flinging my arm up over my eyes. "There's nothing to be singing about."
"You don't have the flu, Rachel," he said, pushing back from my wall. He looked down at me and I sulkily took another sip of the odd tasting drink. My head was starting to actually feel a little better. He was sweet for making it for me. Sweet and handsome and way too big for my tiny little bedroom. "You're hungover."
At the sound of that, all nice thoughts I'd been having about him vanished. "I told you," I said, mustering up as much dignity as I could while lying sweating and squinting in bed. "I didn't have anything to drink."
"Long Island Iced Teas are alcoholic, Rachel," he said gently. "They're actually one of the strongest drinks you could have. It's no wonder you were falling down drunk last night."
Long Island Iced Tea. I remembered the name on the menu and immediately flushed hot. My heart started racing and my fingers curled in panic. I should have known. I hadn't known.
Panic was closing my throat. It was the way he looked down at me. It had nothing to do with his expression, which was concerned and faintly amused. It was the way he was looming over my bed in the morning. It was the way he was informing me of a mistake I swore I hadn't made. It was the hot, bright shame that slithered through my veins. I could almost see the eyes of the congregation, watching impassively, doing nothing, waiting for the first blow to be struck...
I sat up. Ignoring the way the world slid
sideways, and squeezing my eyes shut against the pain in my head, I forced my words out between teeth gritted in panic. "You need to go."
My eyes were still shut, so I couldn't see his face, but I could feel the shift in the air. He was surprised. "Rachel, it's okay, you didn't know..."
There was that note in his voice. Whether he heard it or not made no difference, because I sure did. The note of confusion. Like I was some kind of puzzle. Like the way I'd grown up meant I belonged in a zoo, or in a lab to be studied under a microscope. "You're right, I didn't," I said crisply. "And it's not right for you to make me feel silly for not knowing. I'm not silly, Beau."
"No, of course you're not, it's just—"
"Don't laugh at me," I said. "Please. Don't laugh at me ever again."
He inhaled sharply and then held it. Then let it out in a long exhale I could feel rushing across my cheek. I kept my eyes shut until he finally said, "I won't."
"Good."
"Is there anything else I can do for you, Rachel?" His tone was more formal now, and part of me wanted to tell him it was okay. To ask him to go back to teasing me and taking care of me.
I licked my lips and steeled myself to do the right thing. The way I had countless millions of times before. "You can go," I said.
He held his breath again. I kept my eyes shut, not even daring to peek at him. If he wanted to stay, there was no way I could stop him. I was alone here in this house with this man, this rock and roll musician, completely vulnerable. I felt so helpless, I was almost able to pray again.
But after a moment, I heard his tread on the floor. I held my breath until I heard the front door slam, then opened my eyes to see that he had done what I asked.
I wasn't sure why that surprised me so much.
Chapter Four
Beau
The birds hopped and twittered in the trees above me as I walked back to the Crown Tavern, flitting and calling like they had questions that needed answers.
Me too, birds. Me fucking too.
I had no idea what had set Rachel off. One minute she was half laughing and asking me to open the window, the next minute she was kicking me out of her house fast enough to give me whiplash. There was a steady tick-tick of guilt in the back of my brain, like the sound of a dripping faucet late at night. Keeping you from relaxing all the way.
I was confused and I didn't like being confused. I liked to have everything laid out and making sense. I liked to know the reasons why people did what they did. Things that were irrational I couldn't help but view as a challenge. I was going to figure this out.
But first I had to pick up my car from the Crown Tavern and get back to my parents' house. I slid my phone from my pocket and winced at the time. Our first showing was at eleven. Guess I wouldn't have time to grab a shower before we headed to the first house.
My oldest brother Jonah was now living with his fiancée, Ruby. Gabe had left early this morning to go film his TV show. That left Finn, Claire and me left in the family house. And all three of us were way too old to still be living under our parents' roof. Claire, being the baby and the only girl, was immune from the deep sighs and long-suffering silences from our father and was oblivious to the sidelong glances from our mother. But I saw them all. And I felt them too.
Getting my twin brother to realize we needed to move the fuck out and live on our own for once had been a process. To say that Finn was stubborn was like saying water was wet. His first instinct was always to say no, to anything, and if you pushed him on it, his temper would flare.
My car was still where I had left it, all alone in the empty lot. Perks of living in a small town where everyone knew your name. I opened it - I never bothered locking up around here - and slid into the cool interior and let my head fall back on the seat.
Sleeping on Rachel's floor had left an ache settled right between my shoulder blades. I still wasn't sure why I had stayed. Her reaction hurt more than the stiffness in my back.
I pushed that thought from my brain. Right now, I was headed from one prickly reaction to another.
It was time to go find a house with Finn.
Yeah, he wasn't the easiest person to deal with, but dealing with him was something I had a lifetime's worth of experience in. "We get a place together," I'd informed him a few weeks back. "It makes sense, right? No one else knows how to deal with your shit." I laid out the printouts from the real estate website. "And look, you want a place in the woods, right? These are all up in the hills."
Finn had only glanced at the results of my careful research. I was ready with Excel spreadsheets and monthly budgets, but it turned out I didn't need any more persuasion than a house in the woods. "As long as it’s far away from people," he'd mumbled and then rolled back over and fallen asleep.
Living in the middle of nowhere - even more so than we did right now - wasn't exactly appealing to me. But I was willing to make the effort for Finn.
Whether he was going to make the effort was another story, I thought to myself as I pulled into our driveway next to Claire's white Jeep. He wasn't standing by the kitchen window, watching for me. It would have surprised the hell out of me if he was.
"Mornin'," my sister said, eyeing me over the top of her coffee mug.
"Where's Finn?" I asked, ignoring the significant looks she was shooting me. The fact that she had no idea where I'd been was killing her, I could tell. Claire was physically incapable of minding her own business.
She set down her mug and pressed her lips together.
"Oh for fuck's sake," I sighed without the least bit of shock. She shrugged as I went past her and up the stairs.
"Yo!" I called as I knocked on the door of the bedroom we'd shared as kids. He'd claimed it when we all moved back home again, leaving me to sleep with the spiders in the basement. I didn't mind and as soon as Jonah moved out, I'd claimed his room for mine again. "Hey, you decent?"
When there was no answer, I slowly pushed the door open and then sighed heavily. "Finn, hey, Wake the fuck up, man, we're looking at houses today."
My brother mumbled a curse and slapped a pillow over his face. "Go without me," he grumbled.
"And pick the wrong one?" I yanked on his blankets, making him curse again and tug them away. "No way. I'm not giving you any reasons to back out on this because the house is the wrong color or some shit. You're going with me. We're doing this together."
Finn was quiet.
"Fuck, did you just fall asleep on me?" I laughed, shaking my head. "Look, I'm tired too. I spent the night on a floor."
Just like I knew it would, that made him open his eyes. "Rachel?" he grunted.
I sighed. "Fucked that right up," I confessed. "Though I don't exactly know how."
"Welcome to my life," he groaned as he sat up, scratching his bare torso. He glanced up at me with eyes the exact same shade of hazel as mine. Now that we were older, it wasn't so much like looking in the mirror, but growing up it had always felt that way. I held his gaze for a moment and we conducted the kind of silent conversation that always pissed Jonah and Gabe off when we were on the road together. "We're really doing this?" his wide eyes asked me. "Come on," my eyebrows answered. "You can do this."
He sighed and spoke aloud. "Fine. I'm up. Give me five minutes."
He took ten, but I held my tongue, just happy to see him up and moving. Gabe leaving was a change, and Finn got weird about change.
"So today's the day?" Our mom appeared out of nowhere, carrying a laundry basket on her hip. She stopped on her way to the basement and looked at the three of us - Finn, Claire and me - with an unreadable expression on her still-pretty face. "And Gabe snuck out this morning while it was still dark too." She let out a sigh. "All my little birdies are fleeing the nest."
Finn and I looked at each other, both of us thinking about how we'd fled the nest at age eight when the King Brothers went on their first tour. Mom didn't seem to count that though.
Claire was laughing as she poured another cup of coffee. "I'm not fleeing
anything, Mom," she said, softening the brattiness of her declaration with a quick kiss on Mom's cheek. "At least for the time being."
"Hooray," Mom said, and she was either happy about that or annoyed by it. With our mother, it was sometimes hard to tell the difference.
"But these big boys!" Claire went on, punching Finn in the bicep. "So grown up!" She ignored Finn's grumbling and looked at me. "I'm coming, by the way."
"Um, excuse me?" I went over and poured some coffee for myself. This morning had been confusing enough without Claire's added drama.
She set down her mug and reached way up to sling her arm over Finn's shoulder. "You guys need my help," she said. "I'm an expert. I work for a developer."
I narrowed my eyes as Finn chuckled. "Yeah, as PR." He grabbed her mug and slurped some of her coffee, ignoring her shrieks of protest.
He held it way above her head and she planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. "I know the area, and I know the desirable markets," she said with a haughty lift of her chin. "A house is an investment and you two idiots need all the help in that area you can get."
I held my tongue, choosing not to remind her that I had invested all of my King Brothers money as soon as I earned it, and was now drawing down a healthy income without even touching the principle. Because Finn hadn't done that. Not even close. And that was one of the reasons why we were moving in together. He didn't know it yet, but I planned on keeping a close eye on his money for him.
"Whatever," Finn sighed as he drained the last of her coffee. She glared at him and he grinned. Finn and Claire should have been the twins. They were so much alike. "If you want to tag along I'm not going to stop you."
"Ha! I'm not tagging along. I'm driving."
"Um, excuse me?" I said again.
Claire snatched her mug away from Finn and lifted her chin again. "You four were all famous, but none of you have decent cars." She reached into her purse and jingled the keys to her Jeep. "Who wants shotgun?"
Soft Wild Ache (Crown Creek) Page 2
