Strung Out (Needles and Pins #1) (36 page)

“T
he hell? Last time we’re coming here for privacy…”

I filled a glass with orange juice as I listened to Gage grumble. I understood but saw the amusement in the situation. Seth yesterday afternoon. Ivy last night. And now Colt was on the deck, hiding from the morning sun behind his shades.

We’d banged out a quickie in the shower, and had been about to fuel up and go back to bed. The stereo in Colt’s convertible rental had pounded out a pulsing beat heralding him by almost a minute before he turned into the drive.

Gage grabbed our clothing from the couch and followed me to the bedroom. He tossed it to the bed and stepped into his jeans. I tried to ignore his heated gaze as I dressed, but took my time. Barefoot and bare-chested, he turned for the hall, and at the last second, shot me a meaningful look of amusement and plucked his tee shirt from the clothing pile, shrugging it on as he exited the room.

Colt and Gage struck up a dialogue, and I listened, mortified to hear how clear the conversation between Ivy and me had been to Gage.

Gage’s side was less distinct. He seemed to be in the kitchen, which was on the other side of the bedroom wall. But Colt was standing in the den, right where both Ivy and I had been.

“You knew. Told you I’d be here this morning to pick up Seth. He’s got a skate thing this evening.”

I closed myself in the bathroom and picked up my toothbrush. When I opened the door a few minutes later, the tone of the talk was serious.

“…and I’m sorry about that.” Gage was saying. “It was shitty of me. You know I got screwed on the first album, and after that, I was damn sure not letting it happen again. I know now, I did the same thing to you that was done to me.”

“You’re serious about this? Fifty-fifty on those three?”

“Retroactive. If you want it. I realize you might want to wait for the lawsuit to be over one way or another on the one. And then any you do on the upcoming albums.”

“If the label keeps us.”

“Word.”

“Dude, I don’t know what to say.”

I felt emotional tears prick my eyes when I emerged into the hall in time to see them clasp. “All right. What’d I miss?”

“You’ll be shocked to know, your brother owned up to being a dick.” Colt grinned, but his normal jackass tone was tempered by the emotion in his eyes.

“Shut up, dick.” Gage rolled his eyes. When I passed close enough, Colt swooped in with a peck to my lips. Instantly, he was ripped away from me and pinned to the wall, with Gage’s hand on his throat and his face an inch from Colt’s. “How many times have I said to stop that shit?”

As I almost passed out from hyperventilating with the shock of the scene, Colt swung his bugged out eyes from Gage, to me, and then back and forth again. The shocked mask slipped away, comprehension replaced it, and he cackled. “Finally!” He barely got the word out between peals of laughter and Gage released him. “Oh my God, finally. It’s about time, you two. Grats!”

Embarrassed, I darted into the kitchen. “Anyone want breakfast?” Moving a disc in a blank sleeve aside, I pulled the bag of bagels closer and began to twist open the tie.

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s breakfast around here, I guess.” When I glanced to see what the hell he’d meant by that Colt was smirking again. His eyes met mine knowingly and then checked Gage’s reaction like a pesky brother. Yep. He’d meant exactly what it had sounded like. Screw all night. Sleep till noon. Quickly though, he made amends. “What I meant was, since it’s technically lunch, let’s go to BIN189.”

“That’s the restaurant we never got to last night?” I asked Gage, and when I heard a snort from Colt, I whipped around. “By all that is holy, cut that shit out! We went to a party instead.”

“A party?” Colt too, looked to Gage. “And you didn’t text?”

“Turns out The Vox has a place down the street.” Gage named their rapper host from the evening before that she’d never ended up meeting.

“Interesting. Not. Since I wasn’t there. So let’s go. I’m starved.”

Gage looked down at his half-dressed state. “Ten minutes.”

“I should change too,” I followed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Seriously, you two. Dressing only. No undressing. And hurry!”

I closed the menu
, my mind on the giant chef’s salad I had ordered. It couldn’t come soon enough. The lake beyond sparkled in the sunlight and a light breeze ruffled the pine trees. Beneath the table, Gage’s leg was flush with mine, and Colt’s sneakers nudged my ankle. I kicked him and he only laughed. Gage frowned at the two of us.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Scarla.” Colt grinned.

“What the hell, man. Do you
want
to die?” Gage’s glower was downright scary.

“Not that kind of surprise. Fuck. What kind of friend do you think I am? Or idiot for that matter?” Colt straightened in his seat.

“Hey, Dad.” Seth stopped by our table.

Behind me, I could hear chairs scraping as a new party of patrons joined us on the patio.

“Hey, kid. You have a good weekend?” Colt greeted, and the moment Seth answered, his eyes went beyond his son.

I knew that look. The prowl. And just as quickly, I realized what was going on.

“So, get this. When Seth here texted me directions this morning, I realized something huge. His voice dropped conspiratorially, and everyone, including Seth visibly leaned a fraction closer. “Jeter is Bradley Walker’s son.”

“Old news, Dad,” Seth informed, and Colt eyed him. “Yeah. They found out yesterday. And went to a party with them. Turns out Scarla and Ivy are friends.”

“Wait, how do you know that?” I abandoned the water I was sipping through a straw and forgot about Gage’s watchful eyes on what I was doing.

“I heard her telling Bradley that you were once best friends and that she missed you a lot.”

Beneath the table, Gage’s hand curved to my thigh. Protective. Reassuring. Warm.

Bored with the adults, Seth migrated back to the table with his friend. I didn’t turn around to look at Ivy, but could almost see her reflection in Colt’s vigilant gaze beyond our table.

“So the two of you talked?” Colt wondered. “Did she say if she and Walker are serious?”

By now, I had my phone in my hand, and I paused from the text screen to send a withering glare his way.

His hands went up, palms facing me in a defense gesture. “Hey. She’s hot. I had to ask.” When I returned my attention to my text, conscious of Gage randomly peering over my shoulder, Colt pressed, “So, I guess that’s a yes?”

“Yes.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “She seems very happy.” I hit send.

My heart pounded nervously. Leaning into Gage, I related my plans to share a table with Ivy. After some shuffling, Ivy and I ended up across from each other at a table inside, and the men all remained outside at the patio table where Jeter, Seth, and Bradley were seated.

“Thanks.” Ivy broke a piece of bread in half, but instead of eating it, she looked over it with a grateful grin. “For not being mad too long.”

“Thanks for coming over last night.” I watched through the window as Jeter and Seth horsed around at their table. “I still can’t believe we were probably crossing paths the entire time I was looking for you.”

“We were. I forgot to tell you. I saw you once. I didn’t think it could be you. But I was so surprised. I was getting out of the car and Bradley stopped me. We were in a rush. Now looking back, now that I know Colt is part of Fire Flight—seeing you with them, I know it was.”

I thought back to the evening on Colt’s driveway when I’d seen a car door open and then close. The scene only served to remind me how easily Ivy could have reached out to me many times.

Before the silence got too awkward, I spoke. “I thought I saw you once. At a benefit gig where Fire Flight played.”

“You were there? Shit. Yeah. Jeter was there with Seth. Bradley and I picked him up. We were in one of the other band’s rooms for a bit.

Ivy picked some more at her bread and affixed a curious gaze over the table. “Tell me everything. About you and Gage. How it happened. How you two found your way together.”

“There’s not much to tell. I stayed with him while looking for you. And we got close. I mean we’ve always been close. But I guess we figured that out and where to go with it.”

“I’m happy. Like I said last night. Everyone kind of knew you two had a thing for each other. Even way back when.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Yeah you did.” Ivy smiled and finally took a bite. Cheeking it, she added, “Like you just said, looking back, you know.”

“I guess so. And you’re happy? Really?” I picked up a roll. “Because there’s a Fire Flight guitarist out there hoping the answer to that question is up for debate.”

“Seriously? I saw him looking, but I thought you all were talking about me or something.” Ivy cut her eyes to the table where the men were laughing together. “He’s hot. But yes, I’m happy with Bradley for now.”

“For now?”

“Well, it doesn’t feel like forever love. Not that I would know what that feels like.” Ivy twisted her lips for emphasis. “Do you?”

I only took a sip and remained quiet. I wanted to slide beneath the table to avoid the question.
Gage. Forever?
It felt like he’d been in my life forever. But was ‘forever more’ my destiny with him?

“Remember when you texted the picture of that guy in your study group? It wasn’t long ago you said you’d never had the forever feeling. But this is Gage. What about now?”

“I don’t know,” I finally whispered. “A lot of baggage comes with him.” I steeled myself from looking toward the window and Gage. “I feel something for him I’ve never felt.” Last night I’d actually had to bite back the ‘L’ word. “But the forever feeling… I don’t know.”

I continued to ponder the question
on the ride back to the house, and again when Colt and Seth loaded up into the convertible and drove off. Gage had already hinted his feelings were deep with all of his mysterious fight starting conversations.

We waved father and son off, and Gage wrapped me in his arms as we walked into the house. “Alone at last.” His hands disappeared beneath my shirt and blazed fire trails over the sensitive skin of my stomach. He paused his playing and disentangled from me.

Curiously, I watched as he picked up the disc I had noticed earlier from the countertop. “What’s that?”

His chest rose and then fell with a silent sigh. “You know how Colt collects all Tyler Conterra memorabilia?”

The shrine-like corner in Colt’s studio flashed into my memories. The weight of the indigo guitar with a skull on the front—and a scarlet red rose on the back. The flash of a camera. “Do I ever.”

Another one of his speculative looks touched over me. He was full of them today. Truth was, he’d always been watchful of me where Colt was concerned. “So you saw his studio?” When I nodded, he asked, “Why do I feel like there’s more?”

I kicked my sandals off and debated whether to tell him. The entire reason I hadn’t confided to him even directly afterward, when I’d been furious, was because it was embarrassing. But lately, even more so than when we’d been kids, I had this weird impulse to tell Gage anything and everything.