about it. You could do this for a living. A real, money in the bank, buy your own house and cars, not have to worry about Zoe’s kids running up and down the stairs outside your apartment door, living.”
His lips twitched. “They’re not so bad.”
“That’s not what the bags underneath your eyes said when you told me they were trying to ride serving trays down the stairs.”
He huffed out what would’ve been a laugh, but then swiped a palm down his face. “Let’s leave it for tonight.” His eyes teased. “’Kay?”
I snickered. “Fine.”
He did laugh then, and we finished our food.
My attention stayed glued to my fries, but it was hard to eat, to think about anything other than the offer that could change Everett’s life for the better.
Yet I was proud, so fucking proud of his ability to stare temptation in the face and say no because he didn’t like the person he thought it’d make him become again. That didn’t change the fact it was still an opportunity of a lifetime. It was everything they’d ever worked for.
And then the other reason hit me. “The band.”
Everett exhaled a loud gust of air. “That too. Come on.” He pushed his plate away, grabbing my purse.
I followed him upstairs, wondering how the rest of the band might take it if Everett accepted whatever deal this Jack guy might offer. I’d heard Hendrix was working at the local golf club and playing lifeguard on the weekends. Graham was studying at the local community college, and Dale was apparently trying to make it with his new YouTube channel. I had no idea what New Guy was doing.
Regardless of them knowing he needed it, it’d been a huge blow to the band, Mom had said when I’d asked how they’d taken Everett just walking away.
This would be yet another blow. One they might never recover from.
“Have you spoken to them lately?” I asked once we’d reached his room.
He shut the door, flicking the lock and tossing his keys onto his nightstand with my purse. “A bit. Mainly Hendrix. He sounds glad I’m doing well, not exactly ecstatic that I’m here with you, but he’s not mad. Apparently, they’re still playing at home when he can get them all together.”
“He’s singing?”
“Yeah,” Everett said. “He’s good, more pop-punk. Crowd would love it.”
“Hmm.” I flopped back onto his bed, bouncing a little. “I guess he is.”
He grabbed my ankle, plucking my boots and socks off, then took a seat on the bed, shifting my feet to his lap.
I purred, actually purred, when he began rubbing them. “That’s kind of gross, but it’s so good I don’t ever want you to stop.”
A raspy chuckle flooded the room, knuckles kneading the flesh below my right foot. “I suppose you could say they’re pissed. They truly believed we’d eventually make it, but being that we’re friends, and they saw how messed up it made me, I think they’re struggling with how to feel.”
“Ha.” I stabbed a finger at him. “They believed for good reason.” That made me wonder, though. “Seriously, have you ever believed you guys were good enough?”
He swapped to my left foot. “Once upon a time, and we could’ve been, if I had taken it more seriously.”
“The way you do when you play here.”
“I’m just being me here.”
“Well, that’s what your new mate downstairs wanted.” I groaned when his thumbs pressed beneath my toes.
“Shit.” He groaned too. “Don’t. Sounds like that make me desperate to be as deep as I can get inside you.”
“Sorry.” Yet my voice betrayed me as my body coiled tight. I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “Where’s the bus now?”
“I think they’ve sold it.”
I never would’ve expected that to sadden me, but it did. “Can I ask you something?”
“We’ve been over this. Just ask.”
My tongue poked my cheek as I hesitated. “I know, but it’s probably not something you want to talk about.”
The bed dipped when he released my foot and came to lie down beside me. “Ask.”
I fell back, rolling my head to face him. “Have you seen or heard from your parents since the first time you came back?”
“No.” So carefully blank, his expression didn’t change.
Still, my hands itched to comfort. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” His teeth slid over his lip, the tiny chip in the front right one snagging my attention. “It’s what I wanted, what I prefer, Clover.”
Tickling fingers danced over the skin of my palm, and then interlaced with mine. “But they were better before…”