Frayed Strings, page 15
“Actually, I think we need to talk right now.”
Ignoring him, I head downstairs. I then begin to turn the lights on, grab the yoga mats, and start placing them out for everyone.
“Everly,” Hendrix says my name again, and I ignore him choosing to busy myself rather than face humiliation again where he is concerned. “Hey, would you look at me,” he says, grabbing my elbow.
“Please, Hendrix, I never want to speak about last night ever again. Scrub it from your mind because I have. It was a blip in the matrix, that wasn’t me. I wish I could blame it on the alcohol, but I can’t,” I plead with him.
Hendrix steps forward so we are touching, making me look up at him. “I never wanted to do anything more than let my fingers sink inside your cunt last night. Unfortunately, I won’t be answering any questions about Brodie, okay?” he states firmly before letting go of me and stepping away.
I have whiplash from the comment, and it takes me a couple of seconds to comprehend what he said. “Why won’t you talk about Brodie? Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean he should be forgotten.”
“You think I can forget what happened to Brodie,” he asks, his voice rising.
“Of course not, but it’s healthy to talk about him too,” I add.
“What don’t you get? I won’t talk about him. Aren’t you supposed to respect my boundaries? I won’t talk about him, okay?” Hendrix yells at me, his hands balling into fists.
“What’s going on down here?” Zeke asks, his eyes locking on one pissed-off rock star.
“Stay out of it,” Hendrix says, turning around and pointing his finger at his bandmate.
“I won’t stay out of it. Why are you yelling at E again? What’s your problem with her? She’s not our enemy, Hen,” he tries to explain to him.
“This doesn’t concern you, Zeke, please,” Hendrix tells him.
“It does when it’s affecting everyone. What the hell is your problem? Back in LA you’d been badgering Eli and I to get our shit together and now we are you are losing your mind and acting like an asshole toward Everly, who is just trying to do her fucking job,” Zeke states.
“What, play with crystals on the ground while singing kumbaya?” Hendrix spits, getting angry again.
“Are they fighting again?” Eli’s voice calls from upstairs, then footsteps start down the stairs.
“Why won’t any of you give me the space that I need,” Hendrix argues.
“How about this? I’ll give you all the space you need. Eli, Zeke, you two can take the class, you know what to do. I need some fresh air,” I say before turning around and storming back up the stairs.
I need a moment; there’s too much testosterone in this house.
Pushing through the front door, I stomp down the stairs and start walking out into the sunshine. How have these three men turned my life upside down so quickly? I don’t know if I’m cut out for these three; I feel like every step I’m taking is away from the good that I’m trying to do. I’m fucking up at every single turn; that’s not me. I suck in the fresh air as I continue to stomp through the dirt.
“Everly,” Hendrix calls out behind me.
“I’m asking you to respect my boundaries now, Hendrix,” I call, ignoring him.
“And I’m going to ignore them like you do with mine,” he yells back, which stops me in my tracks, and I whip around to stare at him.
I fold my arms in front of my chest. “You’re right, I do ignore them, and I can’t expect you to respect them when I don’t.”
Hendrix stills, then a smile falls on his face. “That’s not what I thought you were going to say.”
“I get it, I do. My enthusiasm for wanting to help the three of you get back to being an amazing band isn’t at the same level as y’all. I realize I might need to tone down my personality.”
“Knew it, you are a groupie. We’re your favorite band aren’t we?” he teases.
“I’m a Sons of Brooklyn kind of girl,” I bite back.
“Bullshit, I don’t believe you.”
I shrug as we both smile at each other genuinely before silence falls between us, and we realize we’ve somehow gotten along for two seconds without killing each other.
“You know, you shouldn’t have to change for anyone, especially not for us three,” he adds.
Thud goes my heart in my chest at his kind words.
“And about last night, it was the hardest thing to walk away from you, honestly, I’m still kicking myself but—”
I wave my hands in his direction. “Please, you don’t have to say anything. What I offered was highly inappropriate and I’m ashamed of myself for acting that way. I’m sorry, Hendrix.”
His face falls as he stares at me. “Why are you apologizing to me? I don’t deserve it.”
“You’re my client and I was taking advantage of you.”
“Everly, if you ever want to take advantage of my dick, tongue, mouth ever again, you can. But answering questions about Brodie, even you can’t get me to talk about that.”
I can see it on his face; a conversation about Brodie really is a no-go zone, and obviously, it’s a trigger for him so maybe that conversation should be left to a grief counselor. All I should be concentrating on is keeping them sober, and getting them to write the next album.
“Okay, I won’t ask again.”
Hendrix’s eyes widen at my response. “Guess we should go inside and do whatever the hell hippie shit it is you need me to do to become creative again,” he grumbles.
“You’re going to join us?” I ask, surprised.
“Nothing else is working so, why not? It can’t make things worse.”
20
HENDRIX
Everly surrounded my yoga mat with crystals, clear quartz, red jasper, and Pyrite to be precise; apparently, they are for creative success & abundance, enhancing bold new ideas and a positive energy boost. Look, I’ll try anything if it means we can write again. I miss it. I miss the days when we would sit around and jam and create magic together, the four of us. It doesn’t look like the three of us can make magic together and I’m starting to worry if that means it’s all over for us. The Lost Boys will vanish into oblivion. It’s been good, I guess.
Everly is taking us through a series of poses, and I’m not gonna lie, what the hell is this torture? My legs are going one way, my arms are straining, my back is going another way, and sweat is dripping off my face.
“Okay, guys, you did well. How do you all feel?” Everly asks as we finish up. Zeke and Eli go on and on about how good they feel.
How are they talking after this? It’s like I’ve run a mile.
“Fantastic, as always, E. Felt the boost today, the energy is buzzing around me. I like it,” Eli says excitedly.
How is he excited about doing this? I’m exhausted.
“It’s the end of the session, and we did it and didn’t complain. Remember your promise?” Zeke tells Everly.
What promise? What have I missed?
Everly groans. “Go on ask your question, just one.”
Zeke’s face breaks out in a huge smile. “It’s an easy one, but one Eli and I need to know the answer to. Why haven’t you had sex in so long?”
Wait a minute, why are they allowed to ask her questions like that? Also, how do they know this about her? Everly’s face falls at his question and she shuffles uncomfortably. The anger I felt moments ago vanishes, and I want to tell my brothers not to be nosey regarding Everly’s sex life, but I don’t because I want to know too. I don’t understand why someone as beautiful as her hasn’t.
“That’s your question? My sex life isn’t that fascinating, boys,” Everly says, giving us a chuckle, trying to hide her discomfort. “Guess I better ask a good question next.”
“Whatever you want to know, we’ll answer,” Zeke responds.
“Fine, here goes,” Everly says as she sucks in a deep breath, outwardly centering herself. She starts explaining how she met this older guy through her work and over the year they had been working together, they had slowly started to cross the line between each other. Her eyes flick to me for the briefest of moments before continuing with her story. She then explains that she saw him out one night when they were both out with friends and they ended up at the club together. The next thing they knew, they were on the dance floor, and one thing led to another, and she ended up dating this man for six months. She explains that she thought he was the one. She introduced him to her family and they were happy until one day, his wife walked in and found them together.
Oh.
Everly’s voice breaks as she talks of that moment; she talks about how sick she still feels a year on that she was sleeping with a married man as that wasn’t at all the type of girl she is. She talks about how hard it is to trust again because the guy was in her life so openly yet had a whole ass family back in Connecticut. That he cheated as easily as breathing. Then she explains how his wife had had enough of his constant cheating and went to her boss and complained and she was fired.
Ah, now I understand her rules, why she keeps pushing me away. Except last night, she was willing to step over them to get you to open up. Why was her first question about Brodie? Anything else and I would have had my mouth on her cunt, and we both wouldn’t be suffering.
“That’s fucked up, E,” Eli mumbles.
“I’m sorry, E,” Zeke adds.
“It is what it is. A lesson learned,” she says, her eyes briefly meeting mine before returning to my brothers.
“And you haven’t been with anyone since that douche?” I ask, the words out of my mouth before I can stop them.
Her eyes widen in surprise before she shakes her head.
“So, no finger banging or oral? What about kissing?” Zeke asks.
Everly stills. “I’ve kissed someone, but it was a mistake.”
She won’t even look at me when she says it. A mistake. She thinks our kisses were a mistake.
“How many people have you kissed since?” My question comes out through gritted teeth.
“Hey, we’re the ones asking the questions this morning, Hen,” Eli adds.
“And they are only allowed one question per session,” Everly states.
My fingers ball into fists beside me. How many people has she kissed before me? Were they all mistakes or was it just me?
“Now I guess it’s my question to you two?” she says, looking between Eli and Zeke.
“Shoot, Everly, we got you,” Eli says.
“How did you two know you were bisexual?” she asks.
“That’s an easy one, E. The four of us met when we were fifteen, when we were all placed in the same foster home. Zeke and I were sharing a room, and Brodie and Hen were too.”
Everly looks over to me at the mention of Brodie’s name; she notices the tension icing my body and her brows pull together as if silently asking me if I am okay with them talking about the one subject she knows I don’t want to talk about. I give her the tiniest of nods to let her know I’m okay.
“I found him jerking off to porn when he was sick from school, and I asked him what he was watching, and he told me reluctantly that it was MMF stuff. I told him I jerked off to the same stuff and that’s how we started talking about what we were into,” Zeke explains.
“It wasn’t until we were sixteen and we were sharing a girl who dared us to kiss that things heated up between us. It was the first night we both experienced each other,” Eli states.
“And we haven’t stopped,” Zeke adds.
Wow, even I didn’t know that story. I had no idea that was how it happened. It wasn’t really until we were famous that I found out about the two of them fucking each other too.
“Do you always share?” Everly asks.
Eli’s hand comes up and he waggles his finger at her. “One question, that’s the rule.”
“I answered a follow-up question though,” Everly adds.
Eli and Zeke still as they go back and think about our conversation.
“She did,” I say.
Everly gives me a small smile.
“Fine, she did. Yes, we always share,” Eli answers.
“It doesn’t feel right anymore not sharing,” Zeke adds.
“Oh. What happens when you want to get married?” Everly asks.
Eli frowns and Zeke shrugs. “That was a sneaky question, E,” Zeke adds, which has her smiling.
“Fine, we will continue this tomorrow then,” she states, standing up and shaking herself off. “Breakfast is ready upstairs, go help yourselves. I’ll clean up down here.”
“We can help,” Eli says.
“I’ll help. I’m not hungry,” I add, butting in.
Eli and Zeke stare at me as if I’ve sprouted another head before looking over at Everly. She gives them a small gesture and they both smile and rush upstairs, obviously hungry for breakfast.
“What do you want?” Everly asks as she folds her arms over her chest, pushing up her boobs in the sports bra she’s wearing, and all I want to do is bury my face in those two pillows.
“I want to know how many men you’ve kissed in the year?”
Everly stills before turning on her heel and moving over to her yoga mat where she starts spraying it down with antiseptic before rolling it up. “I’m not answering that question,” she grumbles.
“Why? Because you don’t want to tell me that I was the mistake.”
Everly stands up. “What do you want me to say, Hendrix? You heard my story.”
“It wasn’t a mistake to me.”
Everly gasps at my admission before I see her shutting down and the barriers going up again. “This conversation needs to stop. Go have breakfast. You must be hungry after your first session,” she says, changing the subject.
“I’m hungry but not for breakfast,” I tell her.
“Stop,” she states angrily. “Please, stop.”
I still at her request.
“This can’t happen,” she says, waving her hand between us.
“If we weren’t working together, would it happen?” I question her.
“That’s not the case, so it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me,” I tell her.
“No, it matters to your ego, that’s all. You’re like every other man needing to know that someone thinks you’re hot to feed your insatiable ego,” she says, shaking her head as she goes back to rolling up her mat.
“You think I’m hot?”
Everly sighs. “Of course that is what you’re concentrating on. All the little girlies on the internet think so.”
“I don’t care about them, Everly,” I growl as I step closer to her, making her drop her curled-up mat with a thud as I walk her backward toward the wall. “I need to know what you think, that’s all I care about.”
Her back hits the wall, and she looks around trying to find the easiest escape route—not again, we need to talk.
“I think nothing,” she bites back.
“Really, I don’t affect you in the slightest?” I ask as my hand hits the wall behind her, and I lean in real close. She swallows and the closer I get to her, I can see her pulse thumping rapidly against her skin, so I lean in and kiss it. Everly gasps as my lips touch her skin ever so gently; then I trace my tongue across the thumping beat.
“Hendrix,” her voice is barely a whisper; I can’t tell if she is urging me on or asking me to stop, so I continue exploring her neck with my tongue and lips, enjoying her saltiness. Her hands reach out and grab my hair, pulling me from her neck; the slight pain has my dick hard. So, I press it against her thin activewear so she knows exactly how hard I am for her. “Hendrix, please,” she says my name with a whimper. Does she want more from me or not?
“Give me one kiss, Everly. Let me show you how much of a mistake I can be,” I growl.
Her chest heaves, bringing her breasts into my line of sight; her fingers tighten in my hair, pulling a moan from my lips.
“I … um … I …” She stumbles over her words as her eyes fall half-lidded with lust.
She wants me, I want her, and yes, I know I’m being an ass pushing whatever attraction we have for each other, especially after her confession earlier, but I’m not a good guy and all I can think about is kissing her again. To make her realize I’m not a mistake, that this pull we have isn’t a mistake, but there is no happily ever after, after all this. I’m not a relationship kind of guy. I lean in closer, our breaths mingling until our lips are almost touching like magnets being pulled closer together.
“Fuck it,” she mumbles against my lips and pulls me to her. She opens her mouth and lets me in, and for the first time, my tongue can explore the forbidden land; her fingers continue to grip my hair painfully, but it fucking feels good. Especially when I press my hardness against her, feeling every curve and swell of her body against it. My hand reaches out and lifts one of her legs up so I can press myself closer to her center, and when it hits its target, the moan it pulls from her mouth could have me coming in seconds if I’m not careful. Seconds later, she is pulling me from her lips.
“If you are about to tell me this is wrong, we shouldn’t be doing this, then I’m going to bend you over that bench and spank your peachy ass till it’s pink. Do you fucking hear me, Everly?” I growl at her.
She bites her swollen bottom lip, her green eyes are glassy with lust, her cheeks are flushed, she has no makeup on, and she looks breathtaking. Her hands drop from my hair, then I let them roam over my arms, her fingers tracing the intricate markings on my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Her hands move down my shirt, over my abs until they disappear under the hem of my tee. I hiss as her hands run over my bare skin; my eyes shut and a groan falls from my lips as her nails drag painfully slowly over each ab until her fingers slide along the edge of my basketball shorts. Mentally, I’m urging her fingers further because if she slides them beneath my shorts, she will find there is nothing between my dick and her hand. She then slides her hand over the top of my shorts, along my painfully hard cock, and raises a brow at me.
“Guess I know where all that ego comes from.” She grins as she grips my dick in her palm.
