“This is nice,” I tell her quietly.
There’s a moment of pause. “It is.”
It’s strange how something so small can feel ten times more intimate with her—a stolen look, a random hug. Rocking us slowly, I squeeze my hold around her until we’re pressed chest to chest with no room between us and bury my nose into the crown of her skull, inhaling the floral scent from her shampoo.
The assholes downstairs start making more noise, Zayne yelling at them to knock it off and failing miserably. I’m going to have to go back down there and stop this before it goes too far.
Again.
When did I become the parental friend?
The day you got sober, the voice in my head answers for me.
“I’ll get rid of them.” Not ready to pull back, I let out a small breath and add, “But they want to meet you.”
Her body goes rigid. “Why?”
“They’re my friends. Family, really.”
It’s a few moments before her body eases, probably feeling the way my heart reacts. “I get it. Moffie will murder me if I don’t let her meet you when we’re in New York.”
“How are you feeling about that?”
She makes a strangled noise. “Not great, but like you said. Worse things could happen.”
At least she’ll give me that. Brushing fingers through her hair for a few seconds, I step back and offer a comforting smile as I reach out my hand to hers. “Are you ready to meet some of the most unstable people in my life? They don’t bite. Maybe Jax, but only if he’s five shots in. He prefers redheads anyway.”
Rylee gives me a skeptical look. “Is that supposed to make me feel any better about going down there?”
“It’s not a firing squad, love.”
We stop at the top of the stairs. “It’s your friends. Your band. I’ve listened to your music before. Meeting them is…” She doesn’t finish the thought before our attention is grabbed by the people gravitating at the bottom of the staircase.
Jax and Cal are both grinning as they scope Rylee out. It’s Jax who whistles and says, “Shit, you got a sister?”
Cal snorts.
I glare.
Zayne shakes his head in the background and disappears back into the kitchen.
Rylee tightens her hold around my hand as we walk down to meet them. I thread our fingers and don’t let go as we approach my group of overwhelming, yet lovable buddies.
“This is Rylee. Rylee, the guys.” I point to each one shooting off a name, though there’s no doubt in my mind she already knows them. She offers them each a timid smile, her face growing redder until we land on Zayne.
Jax—the dickhead—says, “Oh, you know him already, huh?” Manning offers a choked laugh that he covers with a cough and Calder snickers where he’s downing a beer by the island that’s already covered in about every type of alcohol there is that certainly didn’t come from me since I had Yasmin dump everything I had here.
I glare at the men responsible, but they brush me off and turn to the woman clenching my hand until there’s barely any feeling left in it.
Cal looks her up and down until I clear my throat and get a smirk out of him. “You chose well, bro. I can see the benefits here. What’s your life story then?”
Rylee’s eyes dart up to me in panic over the question. I step in for her. “She doesn’t need to explain anything to you, especially not when you show up uninvited like this.” Jax hands Rylee a beer, but I take it from him. “Neither of us drink. You know that.”
“You don’t drink,” Jax counters matter-of-factly. “That doesn’t mean your wife can’t have a little fun while you play guard dog. Right, Rylee?”
She starts to say something, but I cut her off before she gets the chance to. “I know you hate change, mate, but you’re going to have to deal with this one without being an asshole.”
Manning grabs a water and passes it to Rylee, which she accepts shyly. “Ignore Jax, he’s just trying to get a rise out of you.” He directs that at me, then shifts his attention to the woman keeping close to my side. “We’re not that bad, even if Jax makes you want to believe otherwise.”
Sighing, I set the confiscated beer down on the counter. “That’s hard to agree with when I said no party, yet here we are.” My eyes go over to where Zayne stands off to the side, nursing his own drink. “What are you even supposed to be?”
Examining himself, the drummer lifts his shoulders. “James Dean.”
I roll my eyes. “Nice.”
Jax gets the tequila bottle open. “People are already on their way. I can’t cancel now. It’ll be small. Promise.”
We all know that’s bullshit. Our gatherings are never small, even if that’s what we intend it to be. People tell their friends who tell their friends, and suddenly the house is overrun by assholes looking for an in.
“You do realize I can get everyone escorted away if I decide not to let them in,” I inform them all, eyeing each of them. “Just because I’ve been able to cut back on some of the security doesn’t mean that there aren’t still potential breeches that can happen, especially if I open my home up to a crowd. We’d practically be inviting the paps in to get a look.”
“It’ll be fine,” Cal promises. “We’ll keep an eye out for people being sketchy. C’mon, man. You never have fun anymore, and it looks like your girl could use some in her life.”
Glancing down, I notice the pale tone to her skin and sigh. “I don’t think you’re interrupting her expression right.”
“Two hours,” Jax reasons.
I look to Manning. “You’re okay with this too,
