counter, and the rest of the band entered the room.
Dad almost choked on his beer as he set it down with a thud. It dribbled down his chin and beard. Standing, he wiped it away and greeted them all, Mom joining him.
And when Everett’s form hovered in the entryway, clad in a torn white T-shirt, jeans, and combat boots, his hair reaching his shoulders and stubble drowning his rugged jaw, I did choke.
I never thought I’d see those green eyes contain that much emotion. The likes of which I couldn’t even begin to name.
Aiden thumped me on the back, then rubbed it and handed me my glass of water.
Only when my lungs had recovered did Aiden turn around to take in the man whose gaze I could feel on my profile.
I swapped the water for Aiden’s beer and drained it.
Everyone pulled up a chair, even some new guy, who I struggled to recognize.
He reached over the table, offering his hand to us. “Rupert, or just Rupe. New bass player.”
“Bass player?” I questioned, shaking his hand.
“Yeah, the guys held auditions while they were staying in my hometown of Glass Lake.” He snatched a roll off the table, tearing off a chunk. “I watched every show, three nights a week, and so when I saw they were looking for someone, I just about pissed myself.”
Mom’s nose wrinkled, but she forced a smile when he glanced her way.
I looked over at Hendrix, who was seated next to Dad, his gaze avoiding mine as he said, “I was sick of it. Need to finally bust out the riffs I’ve spent half my life playing.”
I felt Everett’s stare like a weight sitting on my shoulders.
Aiden was concentrating on his food, but his nonchalant expression didn’t fool me. The stiffness to his body screamed of displeasure.
Yet I couldn’t stop myself from watching when Everett pulled out a stool at the kitchen counter and folded his large frame on it.
Riddled with scrutiny, his eyes skittered over everyone at the table, but they always returned to me, where they stayed the longest. When I caught them, and the veil of betrayal and anger fell, I saw the regret.
And I knew, this new bass player had nothing to do with Hendrix and his ego, and everything to do with Everett getting too drunk to play and sing at the same time.
I dragged my eyes away and forced down the food on my plate that suddenly had no taste.
Graham stood then and stabbed a finger at Aiden. “Okay, I can’t handle it anymore. I know you from somewhere.”
Aiden set down his fresh beer, giving Graham his attention.
Graham scratched at his jaw, his brows shaping. “Oh fuck. You play ball?”
“Baseball, yeah.” Aiden’s voice was gruff, but maybe only to my ears.
Graham clapped his hands. “My dad’s a huge college ball follower. He’s been watching every game they air of yours since you started.”
“Wow, man.” Aiden flashed him a genuine grin. “You tell your old man I said thanks.”
Graham sighed. “He’s not talking to me. I kind of ditched a full ride to hang with these shitheads.”
“Speak for yourself,” Hendrix mumbled, shoving a piece of ham in his mouth, eyeing Aiden with obvious curiosity.
Graham’s eyes grew. “Wait a minute, I bet if you signed something for him, he’d at least look at me.”
Aiden sat back, relaxing a little in his chair as he chuckled. “Sure.”
I kept my eyes off Everett and placed my hand on Aiden’s thigh beneath the table as I watched him sign a reindeer napkin with a Sharpie Hendrix had plucked from his back pocket.
“You guys just carry Sharpies around now?” I tried to joke as Aiden capped the marker.
Hendrix finally looked at me. “You’ve stopped hooking up with your brother’s friends now?”
Dad cussed so violently, everyone at the table fell quiet.
“Well, shit, Sandrine. Just lay it all out there, why don’t ya?” Dale said, getting up and clipping him over the head. “Get over it already. You’d screw her friends in a heartbeat.”
“How?” Hendrix repeated. “Because Everett is practically family.”
“Hell and holy shit on a fuck,” Dad spewed. “You…” He coughed, struggling to look at me. “You and Everett?”
“On that note,” Graham said, grinning from ear to ear with his napkin in hand. “We’ll be going. Families who hate us to see and all that fun shit. Come on, Dale.”
“What about the new guy?” Dale asked, pocketing his phone.
The new guy was eating another bread roll. “I’m good here