Page 31 of Hope & Harmony

“Shut. Up.” I cut him off, rage raking through me. “Now it’s me who doesn’t want you here. Who gets to reject you!”

“Echo—”

“No! Get the fuck away, Drix.” The shout hummed in my vocals, my hands aching at how fast I was signing. “Why are you even here?”

“Because…” He shifted on his feet, turning his head away from me. I hated when people did that, cutting me off from their facial reactions. Frustrated, I reached up, grabbed his chin, and yanked his face back to me to read his lips. The feel of his beard between my fingers, his mouth so close, and how his cognac eyes looked at me took me back to his bed so many years ago. I recalled the way his mouth felt on mine, his hands touching my body, the skillful way his tongue twined with mine. It was the same magic when we played together, but it exploded even more in the bedroom.

I sucked in, dropping my hands away as if he burned me. “Actually, I don’t want to know,” I spoke with my hands. “Just go back to where you belong.” I turned, starting to stride out of the room.

Fingers wrapped around my arm, yanking me back, my spine hitting the wall, knocking a few pictures off, firing heat betweenmy thighs. My nipples hardened as Drix’s physique pressed into mine. His huge hand slid up my neck, forcing my head to look up at him.

“I’m not going anywhere, drummer girl.” He spoke so close I could feel the heat from his lips brush against my own, stealing the air from my lungs. “Get used to it.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth. Slowly, he slid his thumb over to my lip ring, tugging on it. A primal need for him to kiss me, to pick me up, slide my pants down and fuck me against the wall overpowered me. A yearning so deep I felt both disgust and desire.

As if he had read my thoughts, I could feel a vibration coming from his chest. His jaw crunched down, a nerve in his cheek twitching before he pushed away.

Shoulders hunched forward, he ran a hand through his hair as he stomped out of the room. The door vibrated the wall when he slammed it.

Oxygen heaved into my lungs, and my wobbly legs dropped me down the wall, shocked at my own reaction.

After seven years of despising him, he could walk into the room, touch me, and I was legless on the floor. Going against everything I was.

I was known for being a badass. For being the one the men crawled to, not the other way around. But there had always been something about Drix. Something that pulled me to him like a magnet, and I couldn’t seem to fight no matter what my brain told me, even after this long.

Outvoted, Drix Decker was now my bandmate, someone I would have to communicate with the most.

My eyes caught on a picture that fell, my shaky fingers picking it up. Liquid blurred my vision, a sob barking in my chest.

Broken glass cut across Ziggy’s face, like he knew we were moving on. Drix’s face would start replacing these pictures, and slowly, Ziggy would disappear.

From the band, the wall. And my memories?

CHAPTER 5

“It’s been two months since you joined Mental Breakdown.” The journalist’s flirty, red smile pointed to Drix. His chair sat so close that his arm was pressed into mine, his warm skin making my body restless and hot. But it was the camera lights and the fact we were on ourfifthinterview, not him.

Drix and I were put together a lot while Ames, Geo, and Tobias did the other circuit loop. Though I could read lips, Emmit made sure an ASL interpreter was behind the reporter, knowing after the eighth or ninth one, I would start to get exhausted and miss questions.

“The rumors surrounding your move to leave The Velvet Kings have stirred upquitethe media storm.” That was putting it lightly. The news exploded across social media the day after his so-called audition. His silence on the matter created so much hype that the rumor mill was churring up conspiracies and fan-fiction level stories.

Especially about us.

“Scotch Tape Hole, The Devil Takes Me, andVertigoare all topping the charts, and this tour you’re on has sold out with more shows being added.”

She stared at Drix, her lashes lowered as though she was waiting for him to respond, waiting for him to pick her up and carry her off.

One thing about Drix most didn’t know, besides Ames, was that he hated being in the spotlight and didn’t talk just to hear himself talk. His enigmatic, rocker vibe wasn’t a facade. He was that mysterious puzzle everyone wanted to figure out. His grumpy silence was catnip to fans and reporters, the world more intrigued and desperate to know him. To have the privilege to peek into the man underneath all the tattoos, piercings, and intensity.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get his silent treatment. He now seemed to be signing more than he actually spoke to others, and he lived to torment and challenge me. Over the last two months, our cues had become so tight, so in sync, he would just look at me and I would know what to do.

I hated it. I tried my best to ignore him, just taking his prompts on stage and avoiding him off. It wasn’t working so well.

The twenty-something blonde reporter shifted in her seat at the silence and intensity of his gaze.

“I was just wondering if you credit yourself for that?”

He tilted his head, his arm pressing more into mine, and I could feel his irritation growing, blooming over into my own veins.

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