Page 16 of Never To Suffer (The Hollywoodland #4)

MANEATER

GRACE MITCHELL

I hate the expression about morning coming too early, but I understand it.

Xander’s arm drapes over my stomach as he snores softly next to me.

I glance around and recognize the bedroom, meaning Xander carried me in here at some point last night after we dozed off.

But now I need to pee, so I slip out from under him while trying not to wake him.

Time to get ready for the drive up to Portland.

Or should stay here, where I’m warm and wanted.

I gnaw on my bottom lip as I turn my head to face Xander’s fluffy head of hair and let my mind wander back to last night, the suit, how different he acts in that world.

Like he belongs there, behind a large wooden desk with some hot secretary pretending to take notes in her half unbuttoned top.

We daydream about what his life would be like if he’d never met me, but he never takes it seriously.

I’ll talk about his big house, fancy car, and all the people taking care of anything he needs.

He’ll counter with the unhappy trophy wife, the kids they had out of obligation and not love, and the coldness of their conversations.

No matter what illusion of richness I create, he reminds me there’s a darker side behind it.

We were around seventeen when I invited him over to meet my mother for the first time.

I told him to come for dinner and movies.

He showed up in a suit and a giant bunch of flowers.

He spent the first twenty minutes staring at us, mesmerized by the way we passed the food around, talked, laughed—not a cell phone in sight.

Something as basic as sitting on the couch and talking to my mom while we watched TV was foreign to him.

That’s when I knew I’d never shake him; I’d shown him the world he’d struggled to find right there in my house.

I made a big show of him leaving for the night before sneaking him back into the house.

Mama caught us in the kitchen, forks in hand and ready to dive into some leftovers.

We were high as kites and all she yelled at us to clean up our mess together when we were done.

I sometimes wonder if she meant the dishes or the consequences of our life together.

I love the warmth of those memories, and they’re a core reason I’m both thrilled to have him, and terrified I’ll break him.

I kiss his head and grab my bag, shutting myself in the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long to get ready since we’re all piling into Connor’s van and driving the fifteen hours it will take to get to our motel in Portland.

I pull on sweatpants, but don’t bother with a shirt, deciding to nab one of Xander’s so I can keep him close while we’re apart.

When I open the door and peek out, Xander sits against the wall, messing around on my phone.

I watch him for a minute before clearing my throat and announcing myself.

“I don’t think there are many people in this world who would sleep on the floor with me, only for me to get up and leave the next morning on a road trip. ”

“Would you rather stay at your mom’s place, hot stuff?

I thought staying here would be a bit more, I dunno, romantic?

” He stares up at me, a dopey grin and his glasses both lopsided on his face.

I’ve told him to be more careful about falling asleep with the glasses on since we can’t afford new ones right now, but he still forgets.

Especially when he’s reading or coding. “Connor said he’s running late.

Come back to bed?” He holds out his hand and I take it, letting him pull me onto his lap.

“We should get this mattress replaced,” I joke as he holds me. “The spring jabbed me in the back all night.”

“That spring’s got a mind of its own, but it wasn’t your back it wanted to jab.

” He squeezes his eyes shut and puckers his lips, so I give him a quick, silly kiss.

“But seriously, that might be a priority. I’m getting too damn old for the floor.

” He winces, shifting into a better position to hold me.

“You’re not old.” I reach up and adjust his glasses, sliding them up his face for him before I kiss the tip of his nose. “I’m worried this floor will be more comfortable than the van. Hell, probably the hotel. At least it’s only Connor, Noah, and I.”

“Rory wouldn’t have lasted an hour in that van with you all.” He pauses, his brows pulling together. “Wait, does that mean you’ll miss me and our cozy little make-believe bed?”

“Duh.”

“Aww. I’ll miss you, too.”

“Yeah, from your boujee hotel with its fancy-ass color TV.”

“I’d rather have you. So, what about the new guy?”

“Todd? Ugh, I forgot about him,” I groan, and he raises an eyebrow. “I don’t like him, but we’re making it work. At least until the first break, when we’ll have more time to try people out.”

He nods, turning his face away and running a hand through his hair.

Xander has a specific face he makes when he’s got something on his mind that he needs to let go of.

He scowls and this little crease forms between his eyebrows while he stares off at something distant.

Some people mistake the expression for anger, but I call it his resting dick face. He flips me off anytime I say that.

“Talk to me, Xander. Is it the trip? The new guy? Our contest? Tokyo? What has that big, nerdy brain of yours working so hard before you’ve had your bean water?”

“None of the above.” He presses his forehead to mine and I swear this boy can see into my soul when he stares at me like this.

“Well, sort of? What if this guy sucks? What if he gets you knocked out of the whole thing while I’m a million miles away?

What happens then?” He shakes his head and lowers his eyes until they hide behind his long, thick lashes.

“There’s always next year?” I shrug, trying to play it off like it’s not weighing on my mind.

I've had nightmares about it and we’re all freaking out, but we can’t change it.

Everyone we found had schedule conflicts, wanted way more of the cut, or couldn’t learn the music fast enough.

It’s a huge ask for little reward for the first few months.

It wouldn’t surprise me if we lose bands along the way because of schedules and daytime jobs, and I’m betting NotOkay Records hopes that will weed some people out well before the world tour part becomes reality.

“You guys are way too good to wait for next year.”

“Yeah, well, what do you think I should do about it? Did you miraculously learn to play the bass after plugging yourself into the Matrix last night or something?”

“No. But our little game last night got me thinking, and Beetle? I think we should contact them.”

I’d been thinking about that, too. But that nagging bitch of a voice in the back of my head keeps telling me I don’t need that extra pain and stress right now.

They left because they didn’t care enough to be with us.

We weren’t enough to make it work. All lies I’ve gotten used to telling myself.

“That won’t work, Xan. They’ve got a new life now. ”

“Do they? They didn’t go to Europe or something exotic and exciting like that. They didn’t. Come on, we’re single again! And we’ve got our own place that isn’t a shithole. Enough time has passed to?—”

“Has it? Where would they stay? What would they do?” I ask, worry creeping up my spine and wrapping around my brain.

“Yeah, it has. They can live with us; give this the chance it deserves. The chance we all want to take. We do, don’t we?

” His eyebrows jump up and down right before he tickles me, making me squirm right off his lap.

He shifts on top of me, caging me in between his arms. “It’s a clean slate, and we’ve given it years to settle out of our systems. It hasn’t.

Not for me, and not for you, either. They are the answer to so many of our questions, and frankly, the band’s problem. ”

“We’d be suffocating to them. They wouldn’t answer if I called,” I mumble, rocking my head back. “I mean, who’s saying they ever picked the bass up again? Besides, how are you so sure they’re not backpacking through Europe?”

“They’re not, okay. Believe me.”

“Why should I believe you?” His eyes dart around because I busted him with a hand deep inside the cookie jar. “Have you talked to Skylar since they left? Am I seriously the only one who hasn’t?!”

He drops his head, kissing his way up my neck, trying to keep me calm by turning me on.

It's his favorite way to deal with things when I’m stressed out, and it’s kind of mine, too.

His hand pushes between my legs, shifting my panties to the side.

He’s gentler today, with soft touches and light strokes since I’m sore from last night’s thorough dicking down.

“Xander, I don’t have time to?—”

“Connor said twenty minutes before he’s here.

Maybe more.” He hums against my ear, shifting me so I straddle him.

“As for Sky, no. My texts have gone unanswered, but I still text them every few weeks.” His eyes flutter and close while he rocks me on his lap.

“Beetle, imagine it! The three of us? Fucking unstoppable.”

“Yeah, we would be fucking unstoppable, in that we’d not stop screwing long enough to get anything done.”

“We can make it work, Dani. The three of us.” He caresses my face with one hand, his eyes begging me as his other hand makes it hard for me to concentrate.

“We’d take such good care of you, Beetle.

Our perfect punk princess. Worshiping you night and day, giving ourselves to you in ever way possible.

Imagine waking up every morning to our mouths all over your body. ”

“Xander, I don’t?—”

“I want to take care of you, Dani. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Oh, honeybee, I get it,” I reach up, taking his glasses off.

They’re like him, damaged enough. “Xander, I’d love that dream as much as you, but we can’t get our hopes up like that.

It’s a dream, and we need to respect that.

We can’t…we can’t keep waiting for them and the hope they’ll decide to come back. ”

“Can’t we?”

“And if they’re playing again? What? They join the band and you’re alone again.” I pull his face to mine, his soft lips brushing mine as we share a breath. “I want you to be happy, Xander. I hate when you’re alone, and I’ll hate it more if Skylar travels with me instead of being here with you.”

“I’ll be okay, like now. I’ll wait for you by the door like a dog, waiting for his people.

” He grips my hips hard, rocking me back and forth as our breathing speeds up.

I listen to his soft cries that come when I run my nails over his skin and soak his cock through his boxers.

“We’d find a way. We always do. We always will. ”

“Okay,” I give in and am rewarded with a broad, toothy smile. “I’ll text them, but I won’t harass them. Now, would you stop fantasizing about Skylar Beck’s giant cock and use yours already? I’ve only got like ten minutes now!”

“Connor will wait. There’s no band without you.

And I haven’t had my breakfast yet.” He cups my face as we crash together and I glide against him, the pressure in me building like a steam train.

He moves, laying me on the floor and trailing his tongue down my body.

I don’t fight when he pulls my sweats down and buries his face between my thighs, because there’s no point. I need this.

Like he said, Connor will wait. I’m the lead singer.