Page 72 of Reverb

“I’m not a musician,” Will said. “That’s you, Stone. But I can handle some of the other shit. Especially the money. You guys didn’t get into this to become millionaires, but you keep saying you don’t want to be fucked over, either. That’s me. I’m here, I’m setting up an office, I’m hiring an assistant. I can help get the studio online and I can help get the record out, and no one gets fucked over.”

“That’s what you want?” I asked.

“That’s what I want,” he said.

My life was strange. Really strange. And suddenly, I was good with it. I didn’t need my shitty father, because I’d had brothers all this time. Three of them, even Neal. And now I had Sienna—if she decided to keep me.

And Will? He wasn’t my brother, not yet. But I’d consider it.

“I’m not taking you to your Little League games,” I said.

Will looked confused. “What?”

“You can’t borrow my car,” I told him. “I’ll sneak you liquor underage, because that’s the duty of any big brother. But do not expect me to clean up your puke. You do that yourself.”

He grinned as I continued.

“If you want to try weed, you come to me,” I said. “I’ll make sure you don’t get ripped off. Same with shrooms, but I draw the line at acid. You’re not doing acid. Don’t talk to me about some girl you’re sappy over, because it’s boring. I’m not the brother you pour your heart out to. But I’m the brother you call at three in the morning because you’re in over your head and you need someone to come get you. That’s when you call me. Otherwise, don’t bother because I don’t answer the phone. Got it?”

Will stared out at the river for a beat. He seemed to be wrestling with his emotions. “Got it,” he said finally. “Okay.”

“Good.” I stood up. “Let’s go get drunk.”

He looked shocked. “Stone, it’s four o’clock in the afternoon.”

I gave him a look. “What did I just say?”

“Yeah, okay.” He stood up quickly. “Right. Why the hell not? Let’s go.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

Sienna

I drifted awake when I heard my door open. I had enough time to realize I was asleep on my sofa, my knees pulled up to my chest, and then I felt big, familiar hands on me, touching me gently. “Sienna,” came Stone’s low voice.

“I’m awake,” I croaked. I had no idea what time it was, but it was dark, the room only lit by the lamp in the corner. My laptop had long ago gone to sleep.

The sofa sagged next to my feet where Stone sat down. I started to get up, protesting that I wasn’t sleeping at all, but he surprised me by wrapping his arms around me and lowering me down. Then he wrapped the rest of his body around me, bringing his knees up. He buried his face against my neck and sighed deeply.

I was pinned in the best possible way, and my body relaxed against his, like it always did. I couldn’t see his face, but I dug my nose against his shoulder and the crook of his neck, scenting him like a puppy. I smelled the distinct scent of a bar and the tang of alcohol.

“You’ve been drinking,” I said.

“A little,” he admitted, his voice a rumble deep against my skin and the sofa cushions.

I inhaled him again, shameless. “I don’t smell cigarettes. Were you smoking?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Yes, you do. I’ve smelled it before.”

“I quit.” He hugged me tighter against him. I loved it when he did that. “Threw out my cigarettes weeks ago. It was a big fucking deal.”

I ran my hand along his arm and squeezed his bicep, because I firmly believed that if you were going to date Stone Zeeland, you should take the pleasure of squeezing his bicep as much as possible.

He’d texted me this afternoon that he was going to meet with Will Hale, and then there had been nothing. I’d imagined a hundred different scenarios over the last few hours. It was possible that Stone would never speak to me again, but somehow I hadn’t thought that was the answer. He was being thrown a huge curveball by his half brother. He needed to process. I could give him a few hours of time.

So I’d worked, and I’d waited, and at some point I’d fallen asleep. Now here he was. It seemed he’d processed the news in his own way.

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