Page 63 of Never To Suffer (The Hollywoodland #4)

FRENCH GIRLS

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We built a door, and it opened a world to us all. The four of us slipping into something of a routine lifestyle together. It’s a beautiful dynamic, and, outside of the bedroom, none of us fight for dominance or attention.

Xander started talking about what he remembers in Tokyo, but only to me.

He still refuses to see another professional about it.

The nightmares persist, but the intensity has dialed down a few notches.

He’s still on the website, but in his free time, he’s working on his own program and site.

He works hard, especially when the trail of his attacker, Oliver, goes cold.

But he’s trying not to let it take over his mind.

Skylar’s progress has been slow, but when the needle moves, it jumps several degrees.

Xander or I take them to meetings regularly, and they’ve done excellent work with the therapist I recommended.

They’re even down to three cigarettes a day—when they’re not stressed.

The lawyer’s visits put them on edge, and they can’t help but look over their shoulder every time we go out, cringing away from certain sounds and making themselves as small as they can so no one will take notice of them.

I’ve made sure they get a little extra praise when I’m with them; they deserve it.

They’re both giving me the strength I needed to buy the ticket to France and book the hotel for two weeks.

Xander almost choked on the words when he told me to go for it, but we made a promise to talk every day while I’m gone.

I’ve even opened up about my wife, our lover, and a little bit about Sylvie, too.

It hasn’t felt like letting go of them, like I had imagined it would.

Instead, it’s as though I’ve invited them back into my life, sharing stories about them and keeping them alive within me.

Skylar said I should tell some of these stories to Sylvie, and they’re right. Maybe that’s where our disconnect lies.

Then there’s Dani. Our little lost queen beetle, as Skylar calls her.

She’s wandering around in the dark, scurrying under the furniture when we open the door and try to shed light on anything she’s going through.

A silent fighter who teeters on the edge of a breakdown but doesn’t see the cliff, doesn’t know about the jagged rocks below her.

She blames everyone else, but the real problem lies under her hard carapace.

She’s run out of room to store the pent-up feelings, and now, even the little things have nowhere else to go.

I’ve warned both Xander and Skylar that she’s in for a rough ride when the shell cracks and she’s left vulnerable and exposed.

The problem is, she takes it out on Xander because she thinks he can handle it.

That may have worked before Tokyo, but since his return, he’s not stable enough for that. Not yet.

We’ll be there for her when she needs us most, keeping her protected as she licks her wounds and rebuilds her armor. Some people only know how to handle stress one way, bury it deep inside. Until she breaks, we’re doing what we can to hold the house together for and around her.

“Skylar! Theo! Where are you, dickheads?” Xander comes bolting into their place, before running through mine like he’s on fire.

“What? What is it?” We both hurry out of the bedroom, pulling clothes back on and finding him waving his phone around, the biggest grin I’ve seen on him in months.

“Oh, sure, you couldn’t even wait for me?

Don’t care, this is too incredible!” He runs over, shoving his phone in our faces.

Skylar grabs his hand to steady it as we both try to read, but neither of us understands what the hell we’re reading.

“It’s the investor I told you about! The one who wants to see the site I built!

He wants to meet with me next week and go over logistics and—Holy shit, I sound like my dad. ”

“Happier. You sound way happier than your dad,” Skylar points out, even though neither of us has met Mr. Maxwell.

“God, this is gonna be epic. I need to prepare. I need to practice the pitch, go over the deck again, and check the coding.” His face drops as he looks between the two of us. He’s gone from happy to looking like he’s going to lose his lunch in point three seconds. “Oh, shit.”

“Woah, deep breaths, love,” Skylar coaches, putting a hand on his shoulder and making a breathing motion over their own chest with the other hand. “In and out. That’s all you need to do right now.”

“No! I need a suit. I can’t borrow yours, either of you. Mine are all with my parents. Well, all but that one, but I threw out the pants. Shit, Dani ripped the jacket up and turned it into a dress for one of the shows. The vest, too.”

“Okay, let’s go get you a new one.” I offer. “My treat. We’ll call it my way of investing in your sales pitch. But that means I also get first dibs on ripping it off you.”

“Smooth.” Skylar laughs. “Also, the thought of bending him over a desk with a tie shoved in his mouth to keep him subdued? Perfection.”

Xander shakes his head. “You two are worse than me, I swear. Also, no office. Please, do not let me get an office.”

The conversation about offices, suits, and business in general continues as we pile into my car and head down to the fashion district.

I’ve had a few clients that work in the area and they love to tell me I should come by sometime and see what they do, so I’m going to take them up on it for once.

We head to see Sage first at her shop in Santee Alley.

It’s early enough in the day the crowds haven’t hit their peak yet, but it’s still bustling as the shops open.

This place resembles a carnival of colors and fashion, everything from high end, custom pieces to knock off sports jerseys and bags all next to each other in cramped stalls down an open-air corridor.

It takes us a while to find her stall, losing Xander to a cologne stall once, Skylar by a candy vendor, and both in a stall packed with replica vintage t-shirts.

When we do find her, Skylar’s eyes light up and he dives right in, flipping through fabrics and colors across the spectrum.

When Xander freezes, I take his hand and introduce him to Sage.

She takes a few measurements and disappears somewhere in the racks of clothes.

“I don’t know if any of these work for me,” he laments, cringing at the three-piece suit hanging on the wall. “I don’t want this. I don’t want suits and offices.”

“Oh, you’ll want an office,” I promise him, cupping his face and kissing him a dozen times.

“An office with little surprises everywhere. A place for Skylar to tie you up and remind you who’s in charge.

A place for me to hold you down while you tremble below me, begging for me to fill that pretty ass of yours harder. ”

“Oh, I like the sound of that office,” Skylar says, appearing from nowhere with a handful of ties. “A nice couch where Dani can ride you, and some added soundproofing to keep your assistants from hearing too much.”

“I’m gonna need a lock on the door. Wait, I said no office!

” His eyes light up as the flick between us and he reconsiders his stance.

“Okay, but Dani gets the desk first. My desk. Not my dad’s, not someone else's, mine. I’m gonna eat her for lunch one day, papers everywhere, phones ringing, and her, spread wide and dripping for me. ”

“Seems fair,” Skylar replies, picking up a tie and holding to Xander’s eyes before taking his hands and wrapping the tie loosely around them. “Get this one.”

“He hasn’t even picked out a suit yet!” I laugh, nudging Sky’s arm with my elbow.

“Who said anything about wearing it with a suit?” They wink at me before they go back to the labyrinth in time for Sage to reappear with four suit bags.

“Okay, so you’re like a perfect size for these, which is amazeballs, since I haven’t been able to show these off since fashion school.

By the way, I used to go to school with your girlfriend.

We had a class together. Don’t let her fool you into thinking she can’t do menswear, because she’s fucking boss at it. Seriously. Absolute fire.”

Xander’s crooked smile and soft pink cheeks make my heart flutter.

We need to help Dani and him work through whatever they’re going through, because those two are something beyond the normal constraints of love and affection.

For now, we focus on the bags, though. Or, more importantly, what we’re about to find in them.

His jaw drops when she pulls out a beautiful black jacket with studs decorating the pockets, a handwritten message filling one side of the chest, and beautiful matching details making sparse appearances on the other side. He blinks rapidly, gawking at me before looking back at the jacket.

“Try it on, bro!” Sage offers, holding it up for him. It’s damn near made for him. “I need to adjust a couple of things to make this work for you, babe. But seriously, look at how boss you look? I’d work for you!”

He looks in the mirror and, for a while, he can’t speak.

“I’ve never seen myself in a suit. It’s always been someone else, someone I pretended to be to fit in. Someone I didn’t recognize and didn’t want to be. I don’t feel that right now.”

“Yeah, your grandpa ain’t wearing my suits.

I mean, unless he’s like super rad or whatever.

” She stands on her tiptoes and glances around the shop before looking at me again.

“Doc, please, oh please tell me I’m gonna dress that tall, broody, and beautiful creature that came in with you, too.

I mean, seriously, you let me dress these two. I’ll throw in a free suit for you.”

“I’m down. I need some new stuff for the road. Sexy me up, baby!” Skylar answers before I can, holding up a vest covered in chains, buckles, and studs. “This place is a punk’s wet dream and a corporate dickhead’s nightmare. You’re a saint, Sage.”