Page 40 of Life After You

“Hush now,Logey baby,” Trey says, snapping his fingers in a dramatic flourish before strutting up to Logan. “You know the rules. We’re familia or something else that sounds Spanish.” He grins. “Growl at me all you want, big guy, but we found your little love nest, you dirty birdy, you.”

In about two seconds, Logan has Trey wrapped in a half-hug, half-headlock.

“He’s adaptable for a caveman, eh, Mac?” Chace muses.

My heart feels so full it’s almost overwhelming—even if it’s all a bit much this early in the morning.

“Phil was all pissed, you know?” Sam says with a grin. “We told him we understood and that we’d come get you guys. Right, Chace? You talked to him—tell her.”

Chace pointedly does not answer. It does not go unnoticed.

“Slipped right out of some press shit too,” Trey adds. “Pretty dope. But, hey, we can do calls. Videos. So no biggie, ya know?”

“Wait, why’d you guys get the old kit van and not just bring the bus?” Logan asks. Trey was yelling something about getting hard if Logan wouldn’t let go.

“Felt right.” Chace said with a half-hearted shrug.

“Anyways Mac book, you got any grub, getting these up at four was not a treat.”

“Four!?” I snorted. “Why the hell would you do that?” Chace looked a little sheepish.

“Because its funny.”

“Wait…” Sam put one of his bear paw sized hands on Chace’s shoulder.

“You said Phil said it was then or not at all.”

“Nope, didn’t speak with him, it was four in the morning. Did leave him a note and a bottle of Pepto-Bismol though.”

“Chace you little shit. You’re supposed to be the good one.” Trey gasped, Logan had let go of him and he was more than thrilled at this outcome. Logan and Sam started arguing with Chace, Chace tried to placate them with reason, Trey tittered like this was the best joke ever, and before I realized, my eyes misted and I felt a single tear track down my cheek. It irritated me as it dropped off my chin, tickling me a little, my skin feeling dryer from the track it took. It wasn’t a bad tear, a sad tear. It was a revelational tear. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt home. This crushing weight of grief and guilt I have been carrying didn’t disappear, but I realized, I could live with it. Providing I had these beautiful idiots in my life.

Chapter Twelve

Logan

The kitchen smelled like coffee and something faintly sweet, like cinnamon and old wood. It was small, but warm, and right now, it felt like the safest place in the world—because she was here.

Mac moved around the tiny space like she belonged, her hair a mess from sleep, her oversized sweater slipping off one shoulder as she poured coffee into mismatched mugs.

I sat at the table, hands wrapped around the one she’d already set in front of me, watching her. Trying to memorize the way she looked in the dim morning light, like I could somehow hold onto this moment, trap it in my chest and keep it there forever.

According to the guys—mostly Chace being a shit-stirrer—we had a couple of days. And while I was content being here with her, for her, I had to get back. The problem was figuring out how to take her with me when she seemed to be doing well here.

I take a long sip from my coffee, the black abyss burning its way down my throat. Bitter but fragrant. Maybe we could talk about it now.

No. Wrong time.

I clench my jaw and push the thought away as Sam, Chace, and Trey lean against the counter, murmuring in low voices. They weren’t acting any different around Mac—treating her like one of the guys, but also like a teacher, a caretaker.

Shit, she should be managing us. Not fuckwit Phil.

We’d lost her once. And even with how hectic things had been these past few months, she was always there, in my head—after every set, during every song. It didn’t matter. None of that mattered.

What mattered was that she was here. Right in front of us.

And I was supposed to walk away. Again.

I take another swig, this time letting the burn sear my tongue.

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