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Like that’s going to fucking happen.
With one last look around the scenery, I let the ocean waves take me over and calm everything inside of me. Without knocking, I use my key and enter the silent band house. Nothing stirs around me as I walk on light feet through the abandoned living room filled with the sunlight beaming in from the tall windows. My eyes narrow when I walk down the stairs into the basement. There by his lonesome, Callum sits on the couch with his bass in hand, listening closely as he tunes it.
His gray eyes widen, taking all of me in as a familiar blush pinkens his cheeks.
“I take it everyone else is still sleeping,” I question, raising a brow.
Callum clears his throat giving me a stiff nod. “Yeah-yeah.” He swallows the lump in his throat, quickly averting his gaze toward the ground. “I haven’t heard a peep from them this morning,” he says softly, reminding me of the boy I knew before.
“And you didn’t wake them?” I ask, raising a brow.
“They-they’re adults,” he murmurs again, still refusing to look at me.
Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I check the time, noting that it’s 8:45 a.m. on the damn dot. Late bastards wasting my time. It seems that they’re still trying to push my buttons and their boundaries. I guess it’s time to show them who the boss really is.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of them.” A small smile pulls at the edge of my lips when Callum’s gaze snaps to mine, and he stiffens with momentary fear.
“What are you going to do, Little Star?” he breathes, turning slightly.
Every so often, when their little nicknames break through, my heart cracks a little more than before. Like the duct tape and pins keeping me together are fraying at the edges. It knocks me back in step, transporting me to the past when I was on top of the world in their arms. I may not have been in the best financial state, and I may not have had the best home life, but I had them. I had those nicknames. I was alive and full of energy, ready to conquer the world. Now I don’t. I let the name slide this time because the way Callum looks at me now makes fire erupt under my flesh.
Clearing my throat, I straighten my posture and turn on my heel with determination. Looking over my shoulder, I gaze at him, sitting there fiddling with his bass guitar. The most mischievous grin spreads across my lips as my brain cooks up genius ideas for waking two sleeping idiots.
“They’re late. I’ll do what any good boss does,” I say without context and make my way up the stairs. Half of me expects Callum to follow me. And the other half of me is thankful that he didn’t because he’d try to talk me out of it.
Standing by the stairwell, I peer up where the bedrooms are, listening closely for any sounds of movement. When no one makes a move, I start the first action of my plan at the kitchen sink and fill a bucket with ice-cold water. As it fills to the brim, I grab a handful of ice cubes and toss them on top. For good measure, of course. With the bucket in hand, I make my way up the stairs just as Ash emerges from the steamy bathroom with a white towel wrapped around his toned waist.
Jesus fucking Christ in a hand-basket. Don’t look at the damn V near his waist. Fuck. I pretend I’m looking anywhere but his toned body as I stand before him. If he sees me checking him out, he doesn’t utter a word.
His jaw drops when he sees me carrying a heavy bucket, and he shakes his head. “River,” he says, drawing out my name with suspicion. “What are you doing?”
I shrug. “Last Friday, I told you guys my expectations. At 8:45 a.m. on Monday, you were all to report to the basement for your first band practice under my rule. And now three of you are late,” I say, holding up my phone and showing him the time that says 8:50 a.m. “Is that water? And ice?”
“Seems pretty self-explanatory to me,” I say with nonchalance, sidestepping him as he watches me closely.
A distinct chuckle greets my ears when I look back at him and his reddened face. “Let me get dressed, and I’ll be down there in a second,” he says, holding a fist over his mouth to cover the laughs. “I don’t want to be up here for this. Especially Kieran. He’s going to hate you.”
“That won’t change anything,” I mutter, hobbling with the bucket another step. “You’re safe then. This will make them think twice about sleeping when they should get to work like Callum.” I give him a pointed stare as he wanders toward his bedroom, watching my every move, and goes inside. As the door shuts, I stand, debating which door to choose. Rad or Kieran? Who deserves this more? Without a second thought, I veer to the right, opening the first closed door.
As I step through the door, I nearly screech.
“Jesus Christ,” I say, covering my eyes and blocking the view of Rad’s naked ass in the middle of the bed, sprawled out like a starfish.
He doesn’t stir at the sound of my voice or when I walk in further with the sloshing bucket of water and set it down. As he softly snores, I take the time to examine the man that once held my heart.
A deep, burning blush creeps up my neck, covering my cheeks when I walk around the bed and fold my arms over my chest, examining the naked man before me. New tattoos adorn his entire body, from head to toe, leaving little naked flesh. Even his bubble butt has ink covering it. Shit.
“Rad,” I whisper, shoving my foot into his butt cheek and rattling him around.
And nothing. He doesn’t respond when I do it again, shaking him even harder. Instead, a loud snore escapes him, along with several mumbles telling me to fuck off.
I roll my eyes toward the ceiling in agitation. Okay, I tried to be nice. If he won’t respond to his name, then I’ll give him something to respond to.
“Okay, you asked for it,” I say, heaving the bucket of water into my arms and dangling it above his naked body. With a grunt, I pour the frigid liquid right onto his bare ass, earning a startled yelp as his entire body soaks up the liquid.
“What the fuck!” he screeches, twisting and sitting in the middle of the sopping-wet bed.
With wide eyes, he looks around the room and finally settles his narrowed gaze on me.
