AllFreeNovel
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I always did have impulse control issues.
Luckily, the doorbell saves me from my own thoughts and the eyes that see too much. They all frown toward the door as Raffiel stands. “If they let someone else through, I’ll fucking kill the useless bastards. I’m interviewing for new guards, but they can’t come quickly enough.”
I watch him answer the door, his hand on his gun on the small of his back. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but it has me licking my lips, and when he turns to me, his face thunderous, I even wiggle, getting wet. It’s then I see the huge bouquet of pink roses. The anger on his face suddenly melts to amusement. “How about we send them to the hospital this time?”
“Go ahead.” I grin, loving how he’s enjoying this as much as I am. No doubt they are from Tucker, but I don’t ask and Raffiel doesn’t explain as he comes back to join us.
Astro stands and starts to clean up, but something on his neck catches my eye. Frowning, I tug on his shirt, and his smile turns seductive. “You want me naked, sweetheart?” he purrs.
“What’s that?” I ask, tilting my head to try and see. His eyes follow mine, and he quickly blushes and stands up, moving away from me.
“Nothing,” is all he says. “Now get your sexy ass up. They cooked, so it’s our turn to clean.”
I snort. “I don’t clean.”
“You do now.” He winks. “Come on, beautiful, it’s part of being a team.”
Is that what I am?
One of the team?
I find myself moving before I can even think it through. I can’t remember the last time I washed dishes—horrible, but true. It’s just part of who I am, but I find myself standing next to Astro, covered in suds as he washes and I dry. I like the normalcy of it, and when he nudges me, grinning down at me, I grin back.
Is this how every day will be with them?
Waking to orgasms, food, and banter?
Maybe it won’t be so bad after all.
TWENTY-FOUR
Ispend all morning in my studio downstairs. The guys pop in every now and again, usually with snacks and drinks and to check on me, but they don’t rush or bother me, and I find I like having someone worried about how I am at all times. After working through more lyrics, I look over the concepts I came up with for some of the videos and album artwork, selecting my favorites and sending them over to management for them to get started on. This is going to be a comeback, so I want everything to be perfect. I want this music everywhere.
I’m talking merch, videos with superstars you can’t help but love, and artwork you want on your walls. After, there will be interviews, venues, and a tour to sort out, and I can’t wait. I respond to Jack’s texts about some confirmations of artists, almost squealing in excitement, especially pop princess Falcon. I knew I wanted to work with her on one of the songs from the moment I started to write it. She just fits the style so perfectly, and she’s talented and capable of singing nearly everything. Unlike the boxes people put her in, she’s dabbled in country and folk as well as rock and pop, so I thought she would be down, not to mention that poor girl has gone through her own shit. We’ve trauma-bonded at some award shows.
I think this might be the best album I’ve ever written, and Jack agrees. We set dates to record, and I figure out a few more details before calling it a day. My brain is drained and I’m exhausted, but excitement still courses through me. This feels big, good, and I’m happy about it for the first time in years. I’m not doing it because I have to. I’m truly excited for the music and what it will bring.
This is just me and my music, and I hope the fans see that. They are already developing theories online about the songs and the album from teasers I dropped on my socials, and I love reading their commentary. Some even got close to a few of my ideas for songs, and some inspired new lyrics.
Putting my phone away, I head upstairs and get dressed. There will undoubtedly be paparazzi, but I genuinely just need to get out. I keep it simple with some loose ripped mom jeans and a cropped band T with a leather jacket. When I come downstairs, they are already waiting, and they help me into the car.
“Where to?” Dal asks.
“Le Establa, please.” I see him typing it in, and then we are off.
I slide my shades on as we head into the sun-soaked streets. Raff is in the front with Dal, Astro and Cillian in the back with me, but I avoid their eyes. I need some quiet time away from them to reestablish my boundaries. I can’t afford to be weak or soft right now, not when the vultures will be circling. During the drive, I rebuild my walls once more, and when we stop, I get out with that familiar, fake, cocky smile. I see them eyeing me worriedly, but I ignore their looks and stop to take pictures with fans who notice me. This isn’t a celeb restaurant. It’s a hole-in-the-wall, mom-and-pop place I found when I first came to the city, and I always come here when I need some home-cooked healing.
“Thank you so much, Reign,” a young girl says shyly.
“Of course,” I tell her as I sign her arm and take a picture with her. I take as many as I can before ducking inside and pushing my shades up on my head. Although the paparazzi know I come here, I make it random so they can’t follow me all the time to protect the owners as much as I can. They also have a policy in place to protect me, although it’s not something I asked for.
The tables are spread out, all mismatched, and chairs are missing. My booth in the back is free and I grin, waving at the familiar cooks in the kitchen before I sneak up on Mom where she is filling drinks. It’s not overly busy at this time, so I can get away with it without her telling me off too much.
Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I pop my head onto her shoulder. “Boo.”
She whirls around, smacking me. “Rey, you are naughty!” she snaps, and then she pulls back, glaring at me. “And too skinny. Have you not been eating?” Without waiting for a response, she grabs my hand and hauls me to my booth, pushing me down. “Pop, give me Rey’s order and sides! What do you want?” She looks at the guys, her eyes narrowed protectively.
“Rey’s here?” Pop calls, looking around the kitchen. I wave as he smiles at me.
