Page 75 of 4-Ever

Until Ronin brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it, then led me over to my drum kit. Only then, when I was seated, did he let go of me. Even still, when he wandered over to pick up his bass, the look he gave me told me that as soon as we were done here, we were heading home.

To his bedroom. Wait, ours now.

And that bed? We were gonna wreck it. Hard. So much for going slow…

“Given that you and Ronin are fucking now, I figured you’d be in a much better mood. Bored already?” Holloway teased.

I rolled my eyes. “Not all of us need to kiss and tell.”

“Oh, but you do need to tell,” Brodie chuckled. “We gave you all the deets when we got sexy with our men. Now it's your turn.”

“There's nothing to tell. Yet,” Ronin declared. “Except hot as fuck handjobs in the shower.”

“Ro!” I bit out, feeling hot all over.

I was barely able to comprehend coming all over my best friend, never mind telling other people about it.

“Since when are you shy when it comes to bragging about sex?” Holls snickered and pointed at me. “This from the guy who fucked twins while we watched.”

“Okay, all right,” I conceded. “But that was different. That was hook ups. This is?—”

I looked at Ronin for help. What we had together was more than fucking. And I didn’t want to share that with anyone. Not even Brodie and Holls.

“Say no more,” Brodie relented, and his expression turned serious. “I’m happy for you guys. Don’t fuck this up.”

“We won’t.”

I hoped. I was worried I would fuck up for sure. Ever since rehab, I felt the weight of other people’s expectations, or rather, my interpretation of them. I didn’t want to screw up my life again. My relationship with Ronin least of all.

“It’s all well in hand,” Ronin replied with a sinful smile.

I squirmed on my stool, willing myself not to get aroused right now in front of the guys.

“Sounds like,” Holls replied with a cheeky grin and then shook his had. “Okay, no more joking around. Now that I’ve finally finished working on ‘Running Start’, let’s see how it sounds.”

I glanced at the sheet music and read it through to the end. We pulled on our headphones and started to play.

Holls did the intro with a guitar solo, Ronin and Brodie joining in, then finally, me. Unlike our rock anthems, which were heavy on drums, this one was slower, softer.

I let myself get carried away by the music, listening to Brodie and Holls sing about running away from their feelings. Holls had written the song about his boyfriend, Dawson, but I felt myself and Ronin in every note. This song was going to be a hit with our fans. I could picture the crowd singing along with us.

As someone who once believed that I’d never fall in love, if I could relate to it, chances are the fans would too. I wasn't big on rock ballads in general. I preferred our high intensity, hard rock songs. But something about this one, at this time, got to me.

Finally admitting to Ronan how I felt about him, there was no way I could put my emotions back in that bottle again.

Then I remembered Ronin’s poetry. Had he written about me? I was feeling pretty inspired myself, even though I’d never tried my hand at songwriting. I was an intuitive musician, not a writer. And, to my mind, I was the least talented musician among us. But days like today, when we got in our groove, when our harmony hit just right, even I could admit that I had a talent that I hadn't fully appreciated or accepted.

Drummers always sit at the back of the stage, in our own world. There’s a synergy that singers and guitar players have with their fans that drummers don’t. We can’t touch the audience like the rest of the band. That's not to say that we’re not appreciated or important. It’s just a different thing.

On tour, between sets, I’d bang out a drum solo for the crowd. Those were the times when my nerves hit. Because it was just me. No voices, no guitars, nothing but my sticks and my dreams. Fans loved it, and it gave me a chance to make that connection with the crowd. One that was important. Without a human touch, music is just waves of atoms. It has no meaning and no energy.

Just like my life without Ronin. No energy, no color, no life.

We got to the end of the song, but I was so caught up in staring at Ronin singing—to me, with me—that I forgot there were other people watching us.

Until Jesse knocked on the glass partition. He held up his hand, stopping us. Then he opened the door, and we slipped off our headphones.

“Sounds great, but Faise, your voice is too soft. You need to focus on your diaphragm. We want to bring up the vibration level.”

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