Page 101 of Sweet Strings


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“And what about you?” she asks, cocking a brow.

I snort. “I’ll fuck my hand until I’m worthy of your pussy.” River flushes further, licking her lips. “Until then, we’ll meet your needs. Then, when you’re ready, I’ll get on my knees and wait for you.”

Always.

“You’ll wait for me?”

“We tore you apart when we left. It’s only been a few weeks. We can’t just jump in with both feet and expect not to fall. Starting over, remember?” She nods a few times, staring up at the stars above. Heaving a sigh, she runs her fingers through my hair as I fall to the side of her and fix her dress, so she’s no longer exposed to the elements.

“This was amazing,” she whispers. “Thank you for tonight. For the barbecue and the song. It reminded me of all the times we sat on the hill and just…were.”

“Those were the simpler days,” I mumble, resting my head on the blanket, continuing to stare at the rise and fall of her chest and the peace washing over her expression.

“We were just kids trying to make it through.”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” I murmur, resting my hand on her stomach. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there at the funeral.”

“It was beautiful. She would have loved all the people coming to see her,” she whispers, sadness clutching her voice.

“I’m sure she would have, River Blue,” I murmur, sweeping my fingers through her long brown strands. “She would have greeted each of them with a smile.”

Stella was never as terrible as my mother, but she still had her faults. As a kid, River often met me in the dead of night to listen to me learn songs on the guitar behind our worn-out apartment building. Her biggest fault was ignoring River when she needed her most, and that’s where I came in. Well, until my mother married a psychopath. Then we moved far away, forcing me to leave my girl behind. Somehow Nigel’s crazy ass made me forget all about her. For her protection, of course.

I swallow hard when lightning illuminates the sky, highlighting the darkening clouds closing in on us from a distance.

“Looks like rain, Knight,” she mumbles tiredly, gluing her eyes to the incoming storm.

“Maybe we should head inside.”

“Okay,” she murmurs as we slowly rise to our feet.

Tiny droplets pelt our skin as we gather our things. The wind howls all around us, blowing our hair in different directions. At the last second, before we’re safely nestled in Callum’s secret house, River captures my lips one last time, silently thanking me with one last heated kiss. In our finest clothes, the rain beats down on us, soaking us to the bone. The only warmth we feel is the heat between the two of us. She presses into me, shivering when I wrap my hands in her wet strands, holding her there. I never want this moment to cease. I’m never letting her go. When we finally pull back breathlessly examining each other, I notice the flowers floating in tiny puddles all around us, surrounding us in their beauty. It’s a picture from a magazine, something perfect to forever remember.

Lyric may be the hurricane that stormed into my life. But River is the tornado swirling around me, sucking up my feelings and love.

“Thank you,” she whispers, taking my hand as we enter through the back sliding glass door into the warmth of Callum’s house.

It blows my mind that the man ran away to Central City so many times and never told us. Granted, we weren’t exactly on speaking terms for the past few years. I can look back now and realize that it was, in part, due to my anger and all the tension bubbling between us that drove a wedge in our friendship. We were so damn close at one time, but now, we’re slowly rebuilding ourselves, too.

We stop dead in the living room, dropping the wet blanket and supplies near the backdoor. River smiles at the sight in front of us, fondly looking Asher over as he clings to Lyric’s sleeping body on his lap. Together, they’re in dreamland with their eyes closed and breaths even.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” I whisper, catching her arm before she scoops Lyric up and settles her down.

River bites her lip, staring between us, and nods. “Yeah. She’ll probably want in on the snuggles, though.” She grins, pointing to Lyric, who still hasn’t stirred.

“You take her and get settled. I’m in the back bedroom.” Thankfully, the bedroom had a big enough bed for us to share.

When I promised River about waiting for her, I meant it. It might be a year from now until she can fully forgive us, or it could be tomorrow. No matter the wait, I’m here for them. I may not have done the manipulating myself, but I was compliant in leaving her alone.

As only a mother could, River lifts Lyric into her arms without waking her. She sends me a soft smile and leaves the room.

“Good date?” Asher rasps, peeking an eye open.

“Good date,” I confirm with a nod, eyeing the multitude of healing bruises lining his chest and ribs.

Some are tinged green, and some are already yellowing and entering the healing stage. Finally, Guilt slams into me. He may have fucked up so royally and deserved our fists, but violence, to me, is never the answer—unless genuinely called for. Like that time Van and I had a discussion with our fists. The fucker deserved it. But Asher? He’s my brother. We’ve been through a war together on the home front, fighting Nigel off and taking his blows. We’ve been through so much together. He’s more family than I ever had. And Gloria fucking ruined that by pitting us against each other. She just had to stick her nose in something that was none of her business and contort the situation in her favor. She knew what she was doing every step of the way, and that includes playing Asher like a lost little puppet.

“Sorry about your face, bro,” I say, running a hand through my wet strands. “I shouldn’t have hit you like that. It was just… I couldn’t stop the feelings.”

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