Page 112 of 4-Ever

In the end, though, we didn't choose love, it chose us.

This was the year we all turned thirty. A new decade, a new beginning. But deep down, one thing remained the same. We still wanted to play our music, and travel, and meet the fans. But maybe being a working musician and having a relationship wasn't mutually exclusive. Sure, it would take a lot of work and sacrifices. There would still be times when we'd be separated from our partners. Me and Ronin less so than Holls and Brodie. But it would happen.

There might be occasions when Ronin wanted to play a solo gig or maybe work on his own music. Same thing for me. What did I want to do outside of drumming? There had to be something. Because one day, my knees would give out, my shoulders would too, and I wouldn't be able to play at the same intensity as I did now.

Plus, there were other things to consider. Like family.

Was that something Ronin wanted? I'd never put much thought into having a family of my own. But now that Ronin and I were together, the idea was floating around in my mind. Having kids together would be a major step, something I didn't think I'd ever want. But maybe, just maybe, I wanted that with him.

I was getting ahead of myself. Happily so, but still.

Then I noticed that the noises down the hallway had quieted.

Brodie swaggered back down the aisle, like he did on stage, in his unbuttoned jeans, his lips swollen and red, his trademark grin in place. He sat down beside Holls and grabbed one of the bottles, taking a long sip.

“Fuck, I needed that.”

“The beer or the blowjob?” Ronin quipped.

Holls shook his head, chuckling, and held up his beer bottle. “It’s been a crazy ass year, but the best one of my life. And there’s no one I’d rather share it with than you guys.”

“Cheers to that,” Ronin nodded and held his bottle up.

I did the same, clinking their glasses.

“To family,” I offered.

“To family,” Brodie repeated.

The boys of Wayward Lane would always drink to that.

CHAPTER 36

RONIN

TWO WEEKS LATER

After a successful week in Florida, we continued our southern leg, on to Georgia and the Carolinas. Every concert was packed, sold out, and without incident. The storm had finally passed, and things were looking up.

Now we were excited about the heading to the West Coast. We flew out to LA first. Then San Francisco, then up to Washington and Oregon. It was home to some of our most ardent fans, and it was always a kick ass time.

And me and Faise?

To outsiders, maybe the change wasn’t noticeable. But to us? There was a freedom in embracing our feelings. And getting to know Faise as my boyfriend, my lover, blew everything, including my mind, away.

The only hitch came when we arrived in LA. Averell was already in town, working along with Jesse to book us in at all the right parties and places to be seen. The guy knew his shit and was probably going to market the hell out of us and make us richer. But I didn’t like the fact that he thought he had a chance with Faise.

Past tense.

I knew Faise didn’t want anyone but me, but still. I’d always been possessive of my boo, but lately, well, it was a whole other level. All I could see was how much attention he got from interested guys. Of course he did. He was smoking hot. Sexiest man I’d ever met. Watching him behind his kit, it was like I was seeing him play for the first time.

But if any guy so much as looked his way or tried to flirt, the death glare came out and I was not fucking around.

I surprised even myself with my reaction. But thankfully, Faise was turned on by my caveman antics.

Here’s how it went down: Faise got flirted with after our concerts, I growled at whoever the culprit was, my man pulled me aside, and we found a bathroom or any hidden nook to fuck each other’s brains out. Once I came, in him or on him, and he smelled like me, I was good.

And just thinking about meeting up with Averell made me want to do the same thing.

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