My fingers flew across the strings of my electric guitar, coaxing a haunting harmony over the rhythm Tegan and Ky set. Justin sat a few feet away from us on the studio sofa with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. A notepad and pen lay beside him. I meant to make a smartass crack about his new no-hands songwriting technique, but I got caught up in the music. We all did. It was fucking magic.
Over the past couple of years, Justin, Tegan, Ky, and I had become a well-honed music-making machine. We’d learned how to play to each other’s strengths and to iron out weaknesses in the studio so they didn’t come back to bite us in the ass onstage. Occasionally, we’d break into smaller groups to hammer out ideas—Tegan and Ky would work on beats while Justin and I collaborated on melody. Then we’d all get together and fashion music from Justin’s lyrics. The process could be breezy or painstaking.
It was a little of both today. But that was okay. There was no sense of urgency and no timetable. We didn’t have to be here, but we wanted to be. And frankly, that was when the best music happened.
However, it looked like we’d lost Justin.
I slid off my stool and sidled next to him, lifting my guitar in a rock star pose and played a wicked riff in his ear. Justin jumped in surprise and growled while I chuckled like a loon.
“Asshole,” he grumbled, shoving my arm. “I had the words on the tip of my tongue and now…poof! They’re gone.”
“They’ll be back,” Bobby J called from the doorway. “What’re y’all still doin’ here anyway? I thought you’d be out of here before Jealousy tonight.”
“We’re done,” Justin sighed. “I can’t concentrate. Thanks, Johnny.”
I rubbed my eyes like a crying baby, then winked to piss him off. Just because. Justin chuckled at my antics and threw his pen at me.
“Where’s Dec?” Tegan slipped his drumsticks into his pocket as he stood and stretched his muscular arms above his head.
Bobby J hooked his thumb toward our neighboring studio. “He’s talking to his mom.”
“Want to grab a beer at The Zebra Den?” I asked, hanging my guitar on the wall.
“Nah, I can’t.” Bobby shook his head. “Cody’s making dinner. You’re welcome to join us.”
It was a nice offer. Cody was a good cook and by my calculations, I hadn’t played third wheel with this particular couple in a few weeks. “Thanks, that sounds—”
“Like a fabulous plan for another night,” Charlie intercepted as he sailed into the room, dislodging the bag draped over his shoulder when he opened his arms with a flourish. “I have official Zero business to discuss. I need you, Johnny. Especially you.”
“Especially me?” I flipped Bobby J off as he backed out of the studio chanting “Ooh, busted” before turning to Charlie and my bandmates. “What’s up?”
“You have a date,” Charlie announced. “Next weekend or the following one. Whichever works better for you.”
“Uh…”
“Why just Johnny?” Tegan smirked.
“He’s doing us a favor by giving me a photo-op I may or may not use for content. We need to spice up our social media feed, and it’s better business to focus on the single dude.” Charlie smiled and set his hands on his hips. “Decide which night you prefer and let me know. In other news—Tegan’s ex asked if we’d be willing to meet with his client-slash-joint-investor to discuss promoting their product.”
Tegan cocked his head. “What is it?”
“Bougie water.” Charlie clapped excitedly, then set his hands on Ky’s shoulders.
“Bougie say what?” I snorted.
“It’s water, but it’s bubbly and fabulous,” Charlie enthused. “It’s called Sonoma. Love the name, don’t you? It comes in a medley of fabulous flavors—tangerine, blackberry, raspberry lime. You can purchase a non-alcoholic or spiked version. I did a little research and I have to say, I love the packaging. It’s colorful, yet tasteful too. This could be an interesting partnership.”
Justin frowned. “Whoa! Partnership? What do you have in mind?”
“Nothing yet. I won’t have details until I meet with them next week, but the timing is beyond perfect. You’re between albums and concert tours. Your popularity is rising but you’re not stadium headliners. Yet. Getting paid to represent a product puts money in the bank and keeps Zero’s name in the spotlight with widespread international promotion. It’s great exposure for the label as a whole. And it’s very different from the photo-shoot concept with Clay. Personally, I think doing both prior to releasing your third album could be the catalyst we need to skyrocket directly to the top.” Charlie widened his hands like a director on a film set. “Doesn’t that sound exciting?”
“No, it sounds like selling out,” Justin deadpanned, flopping onto the sofa.
“It’s not selling out,” Charlie insisted, stomping his Italian loafer. “You have to play the game, Justin. It’s the only way to stay relevant today. You can’t disappear for nine months and assume you’ll still have the same reputation and accolades upon your return. We are a ‘shiny coin’ society, boys. We’re easily distracted by bright lights and new ways of packaging old messages. Until you’re ingrained in the public’s consciousness across a spectrum of age groups, you’re a guaranteed has-been.”
“Well, that’s assuring,” Ky huffed.
Charlie kissed Ky’s cheek. “Not you, darling. You’ll always be my number one.”
We all let out a collective groan when Ky pulled Charlie onto his lap and stuck his tongue down his throat. “Gross.”
I perched on the arm of the sofa next to Justin and mulled over Charlie’s “news.” So this was what Sean was talking about the other night.
Charlie scrambled off his boyfriend’s knee. “Listen, I didn’t commit to anything. I simply agreed to a meeting. But I have to ask you all to remember that you’re not just members of Zero, you’re also part owners of Scratch Records. Think about this from both sides. Growing our brand is the objective.”
“But there’s a fine line, Char. Is it too much too soon? We don’t want to come across as one of those douchey acts who drank their own Kool-Aid and has an inflated sense of worth. Do we even like bubbly water?” Tegan asked.
“It’s okay,” Justin conceded. “Some are better than others. Seems like we should make sure we like any product we agree to sponsor. Especially if it’s our first one.”
Ky raised his hand. “I’ve never tried that brand, but I like bubbly water. How do you feel about it, Johnny boy?”
“If there’s alcohol in it, I’m down,” I said with a smile.
Charlie’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Me too. I have to be careful of the spiked buzzy stuff. It brings out my inner ho. I had two the other night at home and ended up stripping to my briefs on the balcony. The rest is fuzzy.”
“I’d be happy to remind you, baby.” Ky waggled his eyebrows playfully.
“Oh, brother.” Justin hefted himself from the sofa and pulled out his cell. “I say go for it. Talk to them. Just don’t make any promises.”
“Of course not.” Charlie inclined his head. “We’re in information-gathering mode only.”
“Gather some samples too,” Tegan suggested.
“Definitely. I’m kind of partial to raspberry, and Gray loves orange…in case you’re curious,” Justin squeezed Charlie’s ass on his way to the door. “Later, boys. Monday practice?”
I hopped up and gave him and Ky high fives. “Sounds good. I’m outta here too.”
“Hang on.” Charlie tugged my sleeve and waited for Ky and Justin to move into the hall before whispering. “Are you okay with meeting Clay? It’s really no big deal…dinner or appetizers and a sneaky photo op. Clay’s in on it too. No surprises. Just a reason to post something new on social media and hint at a possible collaboration. I’ve been told I’m a steamroller, and maybe that’s true, but I want to make sure you’re okay with it.”
“Taking one for the team,” Tegan snarked, draping his arm over my shoulders. “Way to go, Johnny.”
I elbowed Tegan while assuring Charlie I didn’t mind. “It’s only an hour, right?”
“Yes! Thank you for being a good sport. I’ll be sure to procure extra samples of spiked goodness for you. Mwah!” Charlie gave me an air kiss before grabbing his bag and hurrying to the exit. “Don’t forget to lock up!”
Tegan jingled his keys and stepped aside to make room for me to pass. “Ready?”
“Yeah, uh…one sec.” I moved to the far end of the studio and grabbed an acoustic guitar from the wall.
T raised his brow, but he got distracted when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Dec is still talking to his mom. She wants to buy an investment property in LA and wants him to look at it. He’s having a hard time reminding her that he’s not in the family business. He feels like he has to be nice because she helped out with our place. Family,” he sighed, typing a quick message on his cell. “How’s your house coming along?”
“Pretty good. Smells like paint, though. I’m trying to stay out of the way while they finish up and keep the windows open for as long as possible.”
“Hmm. When will you have furniture?” T asked conversationally.
“Eight weeks.”
“Why so long?”
“It’s all brand-new and special order. I didn’t have anything worth a shit, so I had to get all new stuff.”
“Sounds expensive.”
I shrugged. “YOLO, baby. What’s your deal? Why are you stalling?”
“Dude, if I go in there, I’ll end up offering to help her out just to get her off Dec’s back. I don’t want to look at any fucking houses,” he griped.
“I see. So, you’re a pussy.”
Tegan gave me a dirty look, then inclined his chin toward the instrument in my hand. “What are you doing with that old thing? You have nicer ones at home.”
“True. But it has the same sound as the one I gave Sean to pass along to his son. We have a guitar lesson tomorrow.”
“No shit.” Tegan widened his eyes in surprise. “You’re teaching Parker?”
“One lesson. He might hate it,” I replied off-handedly.
“How come you didn’t mention it?”
Gee, was there a kosher way to tell your friend that you’d sucked his ex off? Tegan was a happily married man. I highly doubted that he’d care, but selling my own ambivalence was the tricky part. Hey, I wasn’t in love with the guy or anything. But I was attracted to Sean for sure. It would have been a bold-faced lie to claim I’d agreed to teach his son guitar out of the goodness of my heart.
I shrugged. “I got busy with the remodel and forgot about it. It’s an hour out of my day, and I don’t really have anything else going on. No biggie. What’s he like?”
“Parker?” Tegan blinked a couple of times. “I have no idea.”
“You never met your ex-boyfriend’s kids?”
“I met them twice. The first time, Sean and I bumped into the nanny and the kids at the market, and the other time his ex brought them to his house an hour early. Both times were very awkward.” He tugged at his collar in a universal “yikes” gesture.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He was uncomfortable, I guess. Whatever. We had fun while it lasted, but it feels like a million years ago. I don’t think of Sean as anything other than a friend.”
“Same. And that’s probably why I get to meet the kids. I’m the guitar-teacher-slash-friend-of-an-ex. I’m not a threat,” I commented, following T into the now empty sitting room between Zero’s and Jealousy’s studios.
“Hmm.”
I stared at Tegan’s broad shoulders when he turned to lock the door, thinking this might be an ideal time to confess that I’d crossed a “friend” line with Sean. Of course, I’d also have to mention that if I had a chance to do it again, I would. For some reason, I didn’t want to share. I didn’t want to be told I’d made a mistake. I didn’t want a well-meaning warning not to expect anything from Sean either. I never expected anything from anyone. Sean was no different. My attraction to him might have a lot to do with timing and opportunity. It was like I told him…sex was just sex.
However, I was more curious than ever about the kids.
“So what are they like?” I blurted.
Tegan squinted as he straightened, slipping his key into his pocket. “It’s been a few years, but I remember them being small. The girl is younger, but she was as tall as her brother. And she was super chatty. I don’t think Parker said a word. Then again, Sean didn’t say much either. It was kinda tense.”
“Oh, great.”
“It won’t be like that for the music teacher,” Tegan assured me with a lopsided smile. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
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I wasn’t worried.
This would take no more than one hour out of my life. It might go down as my good deed for the day or a forgettable blip before I headed to Home Depot to check out power tools and house shit. Besides, even if the kid hated me, his dog was firmly on Team Johnny. And his dad…yeah, I wanted to see him again too.
I knocked on the door and rang the bell for good measure, then switched the guitar from my right hand to my left. The sound of Lullah’s manic barking put a smile on my face. See? Someone liked me, I mused as the door swung open a moment later.
“You’re here! And you brought another guitar. Is that for me?”
I adjusted my gaze to peer at the pixie dressed as a warrior princess. No kidding. She wore a Wonder Woman costume, complete with arm cuffs and a crown. Her hair was pulled into a messy high ponytail as if she’d just finished a wrestling match. The cowboy boots only added something. Suffice it to say, this kid had a style all her own.
“Sorry, no. It’s for me. I need it to teach your brother. I’m Johnny, by the way.” I held my hand out, biting back a chuckle when she gave it a businesslike shake. Then I crouched to say a quick hello to the excited Lab vying for my attention with happy barks.
“I’m Wonder Woman, and this is Lullah. We’ve been expecting you.”
I scratched Lullah behind the ears and smiled. “Should I call you Wonder for short?”
She cocked her head as if considering the idea. “Yes. Or Penny.”
“Nice to meet you, Wonder Woman Penny. Is your dad here?”
“He’s in the kitchen.” She pointed in the general direction of the great room and set her hands on her hips like a mini badass. “He asked me to be your official greeter. Daddy has the app on his iPad that tells you who’s at the door. I wouldn’t have answered for just anyone, you know.”
“That’s a good policy.”
She nodded solemnly and flashed a brilliant grin. “Follow me. I’ll take you to—oh! Do you have nail polish on?”
I inspected the chipped dark polish and shrugged. “Uh, yeah. I guess so. I meant to take this off.”
“Hmm. I can do that for you. I’m really good at doing nails. I can put a different color on for you too. I have pink, purple, gold, red, silver sparkles.…You can choose for yourself. Mine are blue, but I don’t think I like it. Do you?” Penny wiggled her fingers.
“Yeah, they look cool,” I replied automatically.
She beamed. “Thank you. I like sparkles better but—”
“Hey, there you are.” Sean’s deep masculine voice ricocheted off the high ceiling as he strode into the foyer, looking sexier than fuck in a V-neck sweater and light jeans. He aimed a welcoming smile at me before glancing at his daughter. “I wondered if you got lost, Penny-pie.”
“Dad-dy,” she huffed, sounding more like a teenager than a nine-year-old. “We were coming. Tell me when you’re done with Parker, Johnny. I’m going to get my supplies ready. G’bye. Come, Lullah!”
The dog chased after Penny when she skipped out of the room, humming a joyful, albeit unrecognizable tune. I grinned. “She’s cool.”
“She’s a happy hurricane,” Sean agreed indulgently.
He held my gaze just long enough to remind my dick that we had a thing for this guy. I opened my mouth to say God knew what when I noticed the boy lurking in the shadows.
“Hi, there. You must be Parker.”
Sean motioned for his son to join us, setting a paternal hand on his shoulder as he formally introduced us. I nodded a greeting, giving my new student a once-over. Parker looked a lot like his sister. He was taller and lankier than Penny, which probably made sense since he was three years older. But he seemed more fragile. He was fine-boned and almost…pretty, with long eyelashes and shaggy hair.
Parker inclined his head. “Yes.”
I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I pasted a smile on my face and raised my guitar case. “Cool. Ready to rock?”
He bit his bottom lip. “Um…sure.”
Okay. I probably should have googled teenagers prior to this lesson. Apparently, I’d signed up for an hour of talking to myself. Fun.
Sean squeezed his son’s shoulder. “You two can use the den. Penny and I will be in the kitchen. We’re going to make cookies.”
“Cupcakes!” Penny yelled from two rooms away.
“Ha. I stand corrected. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.” I patted the side of my case meaningfully. “Lead the way, padawan.”
I thought I detected a real smile, but Parker pivoted on his heels before I could be sure. He moved down a short hallway off the foyer and into a huge wood-paneled room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a wide picture window. A comfy-looking sectional faced an enormous flat-screen TV. The coffee table in front of it was piled high with books and neatly-stacked magazines. And the guitar I’d given Sean the other day leaned against it.
I set my case on the floor and pulled out my instrument, then perched on the edge of the sofa. Now what? If I jumped into a beginner lesson, I’d lose him right away. This obviously wasn’t his idea. I didn’t know what the hell Sean thought we’d accomplish here.
Damn it, I should have asked more questions.
I strummed a few chords and tried to think of something clever to say while Parker gingerly picked up the borrowed guitar. He sat on the opposite end of the sofa and mirrored my pose before clearing his throat.
“Is this right?”
“Mmhmm.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, thoughtfully observing his stiff spine and tight jaw. After a moment, I folded my arms atop my instrument and looked around the room. I spotted a Star Wars puzzle and a set of action figures neatly lined on a shelf near the TV. “You like Star Wars?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Have you seen all the movies?”
“Yeah. Have you?”
“All except for the last one.”
Parker shrugged. “It’s good.”
“What else are you into?” I prodded.
He frowned. “Um…I don’t know.”
Teenagers.
“Do you play video games?”
“Yeah.”
“Hit me.” I propped my guitar against the coffee table, then grabbed one of the controllers, tossing the other to him. “Did you get PS5 for Christmas? If you say yes, I’ll be extremely jealous but also very happy to finally get to try it out.”
He lowered his head, hiding his face from view. “No, I…I asked for it f-for m-my birthd-day. It’s next week. I might g-get it. I d-don’t know.”
Oh. Okay.
I sucked in a deep breath. I was so fucking out of my element, it wasn’t even funny. But I had to try. “Happy Almost Birthday. Thirteen?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. Let’s play video games. You’ll probably kick my ass—excuse me, my butt. I’m a little rusty. And my collection isn’t what it used to be. I tend to get really into one game and play it to death. I do that with music sometimes too.” I cracked my knuckles and fell sideways onto the sofa. “What d’ya got?”
“Uh…we’re supposed to p-play guitar. That’s what m-my dad wants.”
“Well, that’s not really how it works. Look, I can teach you a couple of chords and maybe even get you started on a song, but the second I walk out of here, you’ll forget,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Why? Aren’t you a good teacher?” Parker’s teasing intonation made it clear he was joking, but he followed it up with an immediate apology and kind of ruined the moment.
“I’m fuckin’—” I winced. “I mean, I’m a very good teacher. I used to be anyway. I haven’t taught in a while.”
“ ’Cause you’re a rock star?”
“Yeah, can’t you tell?” I asked with a self-deprecating chuckle.
He didn’t laugh, but he didn’t look away. “Not really. I-I don’t listen to a lot of music on my own.”
“Hmm. So learning to play guitar wasn’t your idea.” It was a rhetorical statement. I didn’t need confirmation, but I wasn’t surprised when he shook his head.
“No, but it m-might be fun.”
I grinned. “That’s the spirit. The thing is…you’re too tense. So even though I think we could have fun learning a couple of chords, you’ll get more out of it if you relax. What games are you into right now?”
“Uh…Spider-Man and Avengers,” Parker replied quickly.
“Cool. Bring it.”
He glanced toward the doorway. “Are you sure? My d-dad might get mad at you.”
I snorted. “I can handle your dad. Let’s go with Avengers. Give me the basics. I’ve never played that one.”
Parker studied me for a moment before hopping off the sofa to set up the game console. We chose our characters—he was Thor, I was the Hulk—then he explained the rules. Five minutes later, we were in business.
And in that short amount of time, I learned a few things about Parker. First of all, he liked order and structure. His games were alphabetized and precisely lined up. Second, his stutter only popped up when he was nervous. If he was in the midst of doing or talking about something he enjoyed, it disappeared altogether. And last but not least, he was a competitive little fucker. I called uncle after he leveled me for the fifth time in a row.
He attempted to hide his smile…unsuccessfully…as he put the game away. “That wasn’t bad for a first try.”
“Dude, I sucked. That’s okay. I can live with it.” I propped my guitar on my lap and played the first few chords from a new Zero song. “I’m better at this. Want to learn a couple of things?”
Parker hesitated for a second. “Sure.”
I twisted to face him when he sat beside me. “Nope. You’re too tense. Roll your shoulders. Like this.”
I wiggled like a preschooler on a sugar high and gave myself a mental high five when he snickered. He gamely lulled his head from side to side and even cracked his knuckles. “I’m ready.”
“All right. You need to know some general anatomy. The guitar is shaped like a person in a way. This is the body”—I ran my hand along the sweeping curves of my instrument before pointing out the other parts—“and this is the bridge, the sound hole, the strings, the fret board, and the tuning pegs. Every time I pick up my guitar, I tune it. It’s a habit you have to get into if you intend to play ’cause an out-of-tune instrument will always sound bad.”
“But I don’t know how it’s supposed to sound.”
“You will if you practice,” I replied sagely. “It’s like I told your dad…no one picks up a guitar and turns into Prince.”
“Not even you?”
I smiled, loving that he felt comfortable enough to joke around with me. “Hard to believe, right? I was awful. But playing guitar was the first thing I remember wanting to be good at. I didn’t have a grand plan. I didn’t think about being in a band or where that might lead. I just wanted to play a song.”
“What was the first song you learned to play?”
“ ‘Love Me Do’ by the Beatles. Easy fu—freaking song to learn. Just two chords till you get to the bridge. G major, C major, and boom…add D major and you’ve got yourself a hit. Watch my fingers.”
I played the song slowly, exaggerating my finger placement and calling out the chord changes. I bent my head, clandestinely observing him from under my messy hair. Parker’s expression was earnest now, as if he were memorizing puzzle pieces and trying to figure out how to put them together. He couldn’t learn that until I taught him the notes of the strings and how to form chords.
We spent a good half hour or more going over chord progression and applying them to the simplest songs I could remember. I didn’t know if it would stick, but Parker was an attentive pupil. He stayed focused and engaged, and even asked a few questions. It wasn’t until his sister ran into the room yelling something about cupcakes and frosting that I realized we’d gone well over the hour I’d allotted for our lesson.
I grinned after the happy hurricane zipping through the den and out again like a mad messenger.
“Looks like we’re out of time. I don’t want to keep you from your cupcakes.” I placed my guitar in its case and snapped the cover shut before glancing at Parker.
He stood and held the borrowed instrument by the neck. “Here you g-go. Thank you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I have a question for you, and I need an honest answer. Do you want to learn to play?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Then keep the guitar. You’ll need it to practice.”
“But it’s y-yours.”
“Yeah, I’m not giving it to you, but I’ll let you borrow it. If you’re into it, you’ll want your own. If you’re not into it, you won’t have to feel guilty about letting dust collect on some fancy piece your parents buy for you,” I said, pleased with myself for sounding so mature and reasonable.
Parker nodded. “Thanks. That’s nice of you.”
“You’re welcome. We went over a lot. If you think of something later, ask your dad to give you my number. You can text me if you want,” I offered, bending to pick up the case.
“Are you c-coming back? I mean…to teach?” he stuttered.
“We can probably work something out. Any questions before I go?”
He furrowed his brow and raked his teeth over his top lip, then his bottom lip. I couldn’t tell if he was suddenly really nervous or in a state of deep concentration. Maybe both. I didn’t push him. I tightened my grip on the handle of my guitar case and waited him out.
“Um…y-yeah. You don’t have to answer, but—why did you paint your nails?”
I couldn’t help it. I busted up laughing. “That’s your question?”
Parker blinked furiously and shook his head. “I’m s-sorry. I’m—”
“Hey, no. It’s cool. You surprised me. That’s all.” I held out my hand and smiled kindly. “The answer is…I have no idea why I did it. I just felt like it. Do you love it or hate it?”
“I like it.” He licked his lips and added, “For you. I wouldn’t want to p-paint mine, but I think it’s cool for y-you.”
Uh-huh. I was lost. The kid was obviously saying something or asking something, but I had no idea what it might be. So I went with instinct.
“You should always do what’s cool for you. Within reason, of course. It’s not cool to rob a bank if you need money, but if you feel a deep desire to try on some lip gloss, then yeah, you should go for it.” I gestured toward my mouth. “By the way, I’m wearing MAC Ruby Woo, in case you’re curious. And I only know that ’cause that’s what the label says.”
“Your lips aren’t red. They’re just tinted.”
“Hmm. It must have worn off.” I frowned and moved to the decorative mirror next to the bookshelves. “No, it’s still there.”
“A little, but you can’t tell what color it is,” he said, moving to my side.
I gave a half laugh and shrugged. “I’m color-blind, so you’d probably know better. I need to get that lip stain stuff that lasts all day. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“You’re color-blind?”
“Yep.”
He followed me into the foyer. “Wait, so…you only see in black and white?”
“And gray.”
“Oh. Were you born that way?”
“No, it was gradual. Retinal degeneration…something like that. The colors faded over time. It’s only in the last year that it’s been pronounced. I tried the special glasses that can correct it, but they turn everything really ugly shades of yellow and blah. It kind of sucks,” I admitted with a wry half smile. “But I work around it okay.”
“Th-that’s good. Um, I have a speech…thing. I stutter s-sometimes.”
I quirked my brow. “I hadn’t noticed.”
His grin was so wide it had to hurt his face. “L-liar.”
I chuckled, clapping his shoulder and stepping toward the door. “I’ll see you around, Parker. Tell your dad—”
“Tell me what?” Sean appeared in the doorway, wearing a chocolate-splattered floral apron with a spoon sticking out of the front pocket. He shot a searching glance between Parker and me as he pushed his hand through his short hair.
“Dad, you have chocolate in your hair.” Parker snorted in amusement.
I pointed at the glob of frosting at his temple. Sean swiped at the spot, smearing it over the tip of his ear. “You’re making it worse, Betty Crocker.”
He scowled playfully and made a halfhearted attempt to clean up. “So…um, how’d it go?”
“Good,” Parker replied. “Are you done frosting the cupcakes?”
“No, we just got started. We set some aside for you, but you know your sister and—”
“Yep! I better go. Bye, Johnny. T-thank you.”
I held up my hand for a high five. “See you next time, man.”
Parker slapped his palm against mine, then raced into the adjoining great room. The cheery sound of family fun drifted through the house…the dog barking, cupboards closing, and a girlish squeal of delight. And more dog barking.
I chuckled at the chaotic homey cacophony. I would never have envisioned this was Sean’s life. He’d always seemed like a badass boss to me—not a man who’d wear an apron to bake cupcakes with his daughter while his son had a guitar lesson. His chocolate-mussed hair and concerned parental frown made him look goofy and yet very…endearing. In a hot dad way.
Okay. Definitely time to go. I reached for the knob just as Sean did.
“I’ll walk you out,” he insisted, holding the door open.
I stepped onto the porch and blinked against the bright afternoon sun at the hilltop view of the city. “Wow. This is nice.”
“Yeah,” he agreed absently. “How was he?”
“Amazing. The next Chuck Berry.”
Sean sighed grumpily. “Less sarcasm, please.”
“Sorry, Dad.” I snickered. “He was great. I mean, he sucked, but I think he had fun. I told him to keep the guitar and practice on his own. If you want me to come back, I will.”
“Really? That’s good.” He stared at the horizon for a moment before glancing my way. “I wanted to—why are you smiling at me?”
“You’re fuckin’ covered in chocolate. It’s in your ear.” I made a face and tugged at my own ear.
He gestured at the apron. “Baking isn’t my thing.”
I flashed a megawatt grin at him. “Sure, it is. Are you decorating those cupcakes with anything besides frosting?”
“Sprinkles. You’re welcome to join us.”
“Thanks, but I don’t want to crash your family time.”
Sean inclined his head. “So…did he talk to you?”
“It took a little coaxing. Full disclosure…we played video games before we picked up the guitars. You’re not paying me, so I don’t really feel guilty. I just don’t want you to think it was a jam session from the start.”
“I know.”
“You know?” I repeated.
“I snuck in to see how you were doing. Hulk let you down. You might want to go with Iron Man or Captain America next time.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I snort-laughed, then sobered. “As for Parker…he’s a good kid. He’s shy, reserved, and likes organization. He seems like the kind of person who excels at things he can control. I bet he builds killer Lego sets. He might learn a few songs, but I doubt he’s a savant. You never know, though. Kids are sponges. They pick up stuff you and I would never catch.”
“That’s true. I’m impressed. And you’re right…about everything. He keeps a lot inside. He’s always been that way. Very thoughtful and methodical. He sets a high bar for himself. He likes to get things right the first time. He does well in school, but he’s struggling with the transition to junior high. His old friends tried out for sports and he opted not to. It’s left him feeling ostracized and alone. Hormones don’t help. I thought it might be good for him to spend time with someone cool who—”
“Cooler than you?”
“Well, let’s not get crazy.” Sean flipped the corner of his apron and let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I just…thanks for doing this. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Hey, if he really is interested, we can do this regularly. My schedule is light for the next couple of months, but it’ll get crazy again in late spring.”
“I’ll call you.”
“Text me. I hate phone calls.” I held out my right hand and snatched it away a second later, narrowing my gaze. “You have frosting on your nose.”
“My nose?” He wiped his hand over the apron, then across the tip of his nose. “Did I get it?”
“No. Come here. Let me help you.” I stepped into his space and brushed the sugary goodness away.
“Did you get it?” he asked in a huskier than normal tone.
“Yeah, but it’s on your ear and your chin and…”
“Where else?”
“Here.”
I ran the pad of my thumb under his bottom lip. “Got it.”
I didn’t move. I should have, but something held me in place. I studied his features, noting the flecks in his eyes. I wondered what color they were…gold, green, brown? I traced a line at the corner of his mouth, rubbing the scruff of his neatly-trimmed beard. I stared at his full lips for a long moment before meeting his gaze. Then I inched closer and…kissed him.
Don’t ask me why I did it, and don’t ask me what I was thinking. It wasn’t smart. I knew that. But damn, I needed one small taste. Just one. Any second now he’d push me away, remind me that his kids were in the house, and that what happened the other day wasn’t going to be repeated. I’d be okay with that. I understood. His life was complicated, mine wasn’t.
I should have been the one to back away, but I couldn’t seem to do it. The press of his lips felt amazingly…right. Sean hesitated for a moment. He didn’t deny me, but he didn’t really participate either. We stood with our lips locked, tension building like water rising in a dam until he snapped. He held my face in his hands, then growled like a caged tiger and pushed his tongue in my mouth.
I struggled to keep up at first. He came at me with feverish intensity, deepening the connection with every twist and lick, silently commanding me to meet him halfway. The sudden onslaught of hunger and passion shook me. It was like that blowjob all over again. I’d started it. However, when he took over, he made it clear he was in charge.
And I fucking loved it.
I wanted to throw my guitar case on the lawn and wrap myself around him, but the logistics were awkward, so I settled for hooking my free arm over his shoulder. When he dropped his hands to my waist, I tilted my chin and met him thrust for thrust. I pulled back to suck in a gulp of much-needed oxygen just as the front door creaked open and Lullah bounded outside with Penny right behind her.
She stopped short in the doorway, astutely weighing the scene. Her dad’s hand on my hip, mine on his chest. I held my breath for what felt like twenty minutes but was probably closer to two seconds. This was a new one for me. I stepped out of Sean’s arms and cleared my throat, mentally preparing myself for drama. And damn it, I did not do drama well.
“Hi, Penny. I, uh—”
“Here. This is for you.” She held a frosted cupcake neatly decorated with sprinkles out to me.
“Thank you. It looks delicious.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled sweetly, then pointed at my shirt. “You have chocolate all over you.”
I looked down on cue. Sure enough, the grubby mess on Sean’s apron transferred to me. Evidence galore. There was no point in denying I’d been caught kissing her dad, but it was worth a shot.
“Huh. That’s crazy. I better go home and change. See ya, Penny. Later, Sean.” I waved clumsily as I stepped aside.
I made it to the end of the driveway before Penny ran after me. “Wait! You need a napkin.”
She stuck her tongue out, furrowing her brow intently as she dug into her pocket. “Here you go.”
“Um, thanks.”
I braved a glance at Sean. I couldn’t read his expression at that distance, but his posture was stiff. I could only imagine what was going through his head. Geez, he’d made it clear that he kept his personal life well divided. If his kids knew he liked men too, I’d bet big bucks they’d never seen him kiss one.
“You can put it under your cupcake, so it doesn’t get your car dirty,” Penny advised.
“Smart thinking. I’ll do that as soon as—”
“Are you my dad’s boyfriend?”
Her casual delivery took me by surprise. She didn’t seem upset or worried or grossed out. She was just…curious.
“No,” I replied quickly. “I was, um…saying good-bye.”
She looked up when her father called her name and yelled, “Two seconds, Daddy!” before turning to me. “Can I take the polish off your nails next time? I can paint them a different color too if you want.”
“Uh…yeah, that sounds great.”
Penny flashed a brilliant smile, twirled in a full circle, and skipped to the house. I took a huge bite off the top of the cupcake and watched her slip her hand in her dad’s. She seemed happy. A happy hurricane. That was a good sign, right?
Fuck if I knew. I swallowed the mouthful of chocolate goodness and walked to my SUV, willing my pulse to return to normal. I felt lightheaded, dizzy, and slightly sick to my stomach. I took another bite of the cupcake—’cause if I were going to barf it would make more sense to blame it on Betty Crocker than on a wicked case of confusion.