Page 47 of Composed
“I do,” I say. “You can take your best friend back any day now.”
Cole squeezes my hip. “Nope. He’s all yours now. Finders keepers.”
“But I don’t wanna keep him.” I press my forehead to his chest.
Saint snatches a drum stick off the side and launches it at me. “Fucking. Rude.”
I roll my head and stick my tongue out.
His only replied is a middle finger.
“Don’t throw my sticks, douchebag,” Carter says, whacking the back of Saint’s head, as he strolls in through the house door with a bag of snacks and drinks in his hand.
He slides past me, giving me a quick one-armed squeeze as he does. “Hey, kiddo.”
“Hey, Cart.” I peck his cheek. “Shouldn’t you be at uni today getting that fancy degree of yours?”
“Yup. But apparently I’m a sucker for you lot, so here I am instead.”
“Oh, why?”
He taps my nose. “You’ll find out.”
I lick drying lips as my stomach knots.
That’s both Carter and Saint now who have said something cryptic about today.
Carter empties his bag onto a side table, before looking back at me. “Mum said there’s Coke Zero, but it’s out back, so she’s gonna ask Dad to bring it in when he’s done faffing in the shed.”
“She doesn’t need to do that. I’m good with water,” I tell him, straightening up.
“Hendrix” Carter looks at me with a blank expression. “You realise you’re all family at this point, right? You try telling that woman you don’t need your sugar free fix. She’ll have a tea towel around your head before you even get the first word out.”
My chest warms. “Okay. Thank you.”
He nods and settles behind his Yamaha drum kit.
The first time Cole mentioned this garage, I expected a box littered room, with a little floor space where they could jam. But Carter’s dad wentall out in here for his only son and transformed it into a sleek, soundproofed studio.
With polished wooden floors and acoustic panels lining the walls to absorb every note, professional style lighting casts an orange glow over the sparkling instruments that line one wall. He even went as far as to add a sound desk and a mixing console.
Turns out, when you love your kids, supporting their dreams in a no brainer.
Who knew?
Cole's arm snakes around my waist. He tucks me into his chest and leans against the wall. I drum my fingers along his skin, humming when he presses a kiss to my hair.
“No fawning please,” Axel hollers when he saunters into the garage. He spins the sunglasses dangling from his fingers round and round, a wide grin on his face. “I know, I know. Alert the press. The star has arrived.”
“Kill me now,” Carter grumbles. “I’m surrounded by children.”
“Sorry, Daddy. We’ll behave. Promise,” Axel says, batting thick eyelashes.
Cole’s chuckle vibrates my back and I chuckle into my hand.
“Not your dad.” Carter pinches the bridge of his nose. “Now can we all actually get on with what we’re here for? Or shall we sit around and braid each other’s hair instead?”
“Oh, I’ve never had a hair braiding session. That sounds fun,” I say, batting my lashes like a puppy at Carter. His expression softens for a split second before he steels it.
