Page 45 of Never To Suffer (The Hollywoodland #4)

CATCH THESE FISTS

WET LEG

I haven’t been ‘home’ yet, so I’m not sure what state Xander left the place.

I’m not too concerned about it since he’s not a slob, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t leave out a giant dildo, edible nighty, or a new pair of handcuffs for us to try out when he gets home.

Not that the men I’m bringing over would even bat an eye at any of that, but I would.

Sometimes Steve can forget about who I am, and I enjoy bursting the innocence bubble he puts around me when that happens.

“Okay, so, uhm, shield your eyes!” Neither one of them does. They only continue to stare at me as they hold the table I’m hoping to use for sewing. “FINE! I have no responsibility for the state of this apartment since I haven’t seen it in like two weeks!”

I push the door open, and my jaw drops to the floor.

“Guess you might not need all this stuff after all?”

“I don’t understand. Lexi said there wasn’t any furniture, and there wasn’t the other night.

Just sleeping bags and boxes.” I stare at the couch, and while it’s not fresh from a showroom floor, it’s still big and he shouldn’t have spent that kind of money without me unless—I close the door and double check the number.

I lock and unlock the door. “Shit, this is my apartment!”

“Okay, open her back up. There’s still some room and we can help you get things organized at least,” Steve says as he directs Ethan and the desk inside. “We need to move some things around and make this place livable. Because right now, you’ve got a lovely warehouse chic going. Bravo.”

“Whatever! I can’t believe he did this! He knows we need the money for bills. We can’t afford this!”

“Hey, maybe it’s not as bad as you think!” Ethan tries to cheer me up as I drop onto the couch. At least it’s comfortable. “I mean, look. This stuff isn’t new, so maybe he got it at a good price? Like an estate sale or something?”

Estate sale. For whatever reason, those words slam into my brain and jar something loose. I hop up and open a few drawers before I run my fingers over the tops of a few items. When I spot the desk in the bedroom, I scream out. “I know this furniture!”

Steve and Ethan exchange a look before they glare at me. “Like, in an animated way? Do they come to life and sing about your dinner, or?”

“It’s Xander’s. Like from his old room.”

“EW!” Steve pulls away from the dresser he’s leaning against. “You’ve done dirty things on these!”

“Shut up, loser!”

Ethan’s low whistle reminds me how short of a time he’s known us. He takes the room in again and shakes his head before he punches Steve in the arm. “Maybe I went for the wrong jackass that night. This is expensive stuff. Since when is Xander loaded?”

“Oh, shut up!” Steve chides. “You’re a multi-million-dollar hockey star and Dani’s made him take some kind of weird vow of celibacy or some shit.”

“Poverty,” Ethan corrects, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Not really,” I correct the tall, blonde himbo and he shrugs it off. “I mean, I make us work for what we want, which he’s cool with. Like, he doesn’t take things from his parents and not pay for them. And yet, I guarantee he didn’t pay for this shit.”

Steve’s goofy grin fades away as he takes my shoulder and looks me in the eye. “Dani, he’s paid for every piece of this shit. It wasn’t with money. Trust me. If anything, they owe him this ten times over for everything that happened in those schools they sent him to.”

“I never thought of it like that.”

Ethan hops on top of a table and makes a few suggestions about where the furniture should go.

He’s talking about maximizing the space and creating a natural flow while I’m having a mental breakdown over Xander, what Steve said about paying for it in other ways, and how I’m going to explain all of this to Sky when they get here.

Steve knows me too well, though, and the next thing I know, I’m wrapped in his arms and swaying back and forth like a little kid dancing with their older brother or father.

They’re still talking and laying out my apartment, but at least I’m calming down.

“Look, sweetheart,” Steve croons a few minutes later as he dries my eyes.

“Sometimes, you gotta let the poor kid do his best. He did this to surprise you, to make sure you were coming home to more than empty spaces and that sleeping bag in the corner. It’s from his old room, right?

So how is that any different from us giving you our old stuff?

Knowing his folks, they had it stuck in a storage unit somewhere collecting dust. It’s recycling.

If you’re smart with it, give it some paint and upgrades, it’s upcycling. And maybe you two can sell some of it.”

“I’m just, I dunno. I’m losing it, Stevie,” I sniffle loudly. “Skylar’s hurting, and I can’t fix them. Xander’s doing shit that’s going to get him into trouble, and this whole apartment thing. My sister still hasn’t come home. The tour is so insane. I’m just?—”

“Tired?” I nod. “Of course you are. You’re putting everyone but you first. Empty pitchers can’t fill other people’s cups.”

“What?” Ethan scoffs. “Jesus, Stevie. You can’t pour from an empty cup .”

“Yeah, that’s what I said! Now, help us get this shit organized. When we’re done, we’re going out to the bar, getting drunk, and the three of us will make out on the dance floor to whatever live band they booked until they kick us out.” Steve whispers.

“We’re not getting kicked out of another bar, Pumpkin,” Ethan yells from somewhere in the bedroom.

“Watch me, asshat!” He smirks until something comes flying out towards him. He ducks out of the way and yells again, “I love you!”

My heart beats with the baseline of this song as another band rips the doors off the place and gives the crowd one hell of an intro.

I’ve always been a fan of kicking the show off in the most epic way possible, and this has me wanting to move my body with the rest of the people who’ve come to the show early.

By the time the set ends, I’m a dehydrated mess and I’ve lost Steve and Ethan.

They’re probably in the bathroom doing incredibly hot stuff to each other. Which makes me wish Xander was here.

Maybe it’s time to make some bad decisions that I will possibly regret when I wake up in the morning.

There’s no better place to start than the bar.

A few people in the audience recognize me from the viral video, and I’m stopped for pictures and autographs on the way to quench my thirst—that shit will never get old, no matter what Coop says.

I love being recognized, sharing the love of music, and feeling the excitement radiating off our fans.

It fuels my creativity, satiates the extrovert in me, and gives me the energy I need when I hit the stage.

I haven’t been giving myself any love lately and I needed this.

“Hey, Racket!” I yell as I run to the bar and jump up to give the bartender a hug.

It’s not the easiest maneuver, but I’m not letting a bar get between us.

Racket has saved my ass from creepers, played the wingman for both Xander and me, and of course, always given me a strong pour. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight!”

“Of course I’m here! The money doesn’t suck and, eventually, the music will be okay, too.”

“Eventually? Those guys were pretty good!”

“Nah, they ain’t got shit on you guys.” He doesn’t ask what I want, putting down a bottle and filling a shot glass next to it as we talk. “Where’s the boy toy? I hardly ever see you without him, unless you’re on a split again. In which case, should I be looking out for numbers?”

“He’s… on a trip. And for once, I don’t think I should get numbers tonight. Stevie and Ethan are here. They’ll give me shit for it. Plus, Conner messed up my phone.”

“Your ancient phone? Get a new one. You replace bassists more than you do phones.” He slides my drinks over. “Tell Sky I said Hey, I caught that video of them at the show.”

“They’re gonna be playing with us, and I don’t only mean the band.” I give him the best wink I’ve got, which sucks.

“Girl, you got a wild life, you know that? Never change.”

I make a show of glancing down the bar, surprised when I land on someone. He looks familiar, and he’s brooding, which means he’s my type. Broad shoulders, powerful hands, and there’s something about that salt and pepper hair giving me all the right vibes. “Uh, hold that thought on the numbers.”

He follows my stare and laughs, slipping into a terrible Australian accent.

“Cricky, even when not on the hunt, the mantis has spotted her prey. This member of a particularly rare and elusive Silver Haired Brooder species appears lost, drawn away from his herd of elder millennials that would protect him from her punk rock princess style. The huntress can’t ignore the instinctual pull to mate with the creature in the darkest corners of her inner sanctum.

Will he be capable of evading her attempts and cry it out at home, alone?

Or will the power of the mantis prove too strong, as she rips his head clean off after mating, leaving me a mess in the back room? ”

“Dude, you have got to lay off the nature channel. Seriously. And I have NEVER left you a mess. Prick.” I lick my bottom lip before pulling it through my teeth.

It helps me think. I’m a little out of my element.

Older guys are more Xander’s thing. If he were here, he’d stalk this prey with me, and it would be all over for this poor guy, like Racket said.

It’s not like I’m going to bang the guy, just some making out and dancing. “Send him a drink.”

“Yes, ma’am!”