Page 195 of Composed
She sighs. “I like you all sleepy.”
I hum, catching her wrist in my palm and planting a kiss to the inked microphone. “I like you all the time.”
“You’re too good for my ego.” She grins dopily, but I don’t miss the lack of sparkle in her eyes.
I exhale a slow breath, shuffle backwards, and pat the space next to me.
She crawls into the bed, denim brushing my skin when she twines our legs together.
“You okay this morning?” I push my fingers into her hair and skate them over her nape.
Her breath warms my neck when she tucks herself into my chest. “I will be, I think.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“I do,” she says, rubbing her cheek against my skin. “But not today, okay?”
My eyes drift shut, her strawberry and lemon scent curling around me as I squeeze her closer. “Okay.”
She combs through my hair with her fingers, the gentle touch soothing every inch of me.
My breaths slow and my heart settles.
The world hushes around me. I’m almost gone when I feel her ease away from me.
Her fingers coast along my cheek, followed by a soft press of her lips, and I swear I hear a whispered, “Always and forever, Rock Star,”as I succumb toslumber.
“Fucking finally,” Axel says, twisting his cap backwards and peering over his shoulder as I stroll into the studio lounge, before grabbing another mug down from the cupboard. “Thought we were gonna have to put a missing person’s report out for you.”
Saint snorts and peeks over the cushion shielding his face. “Last seen in between Rix’s thighs.”
I thump Saint’s thigh with my fist.
He yelps, shooting upright, and I slide onto the cushion.
“Fucking dick,” he grunts, falling backwards, his head landing in my lap.
I slant my gaze, scanning his face.
His eyes are dull and dazed, his skin grey and ashen. If I had to guess, he’s on something stronger than weed today. Not just booze either.
He groans and slams the cushion back over his face when Carter hammers his sticks on the edge of the coffee table along toIt’s My Lifeplaying low through the speakers.
I yank a strand of Saint’s hair. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” he mumbles, burrowing deeper into the couch, his face mashed against my stomach.
I exhale a slow breath and pat his back. He’s been all over the place lately. He’s like a fucking yoyo, up and down. Only difference is, I’ve never worried about a yoyo snapping.
I drop my voice. “Do you need anything?”
“Let’s just focus on band shit.”
“Alright.” I kick my legs onto the coffee table, and tip my chin at Carter. “Tommy coming?”
“Just dropping the girls off with Mum,” he says. “Said to get started without him. He’ll catch up.”
“Not really sure where to start.”
