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I let out a breath, my cheeks blowing out. “She’s gonna kill you.”
“Shit.”
Rae slows her pace, her brows furrowed as she reaches for her phone, and I watch as she swipes her thumb across the screen. Her gaze narrows, and in an instant, her slow pace comes to a dead stop as she looks over something—a text, maybe.
Her head snaps up, her feral stare locking onto Dylan’s.
“YOU DIDN’T!”
“Oh fuck,” he mutters beside me.
“Run,” I say, knowing that look all too well. “Fucking run, bro.”
Dylan shoves his guitar at me, and I barely manage to catch it before he takes off at a sprint. “I’m sorry,” he throws over his shoulder as Rae bolts after him.
His killer hangover slows him down, and in seconds, she has him pinned on the couch, sitting on his chest, and using her thighs to keep his arms locked at his side. “How many times . . .” she says, grabbing a cushion and whacking him with it. “Do I have to tell you,” whack, “that my friends are off limits?” She thumps him again before shoving the cushion against his face and trying to suffocate him. “I swear, you assholes never fucking change.”
Rock laughs as Jett watches, clearly having no idea what’s going on, but all I feel is intense jealousy. I’d give anything to have that carefree nature with Rae again. It used to be me she tried to suffocate with cushions, but that was another life, one so far away that I don’t think I can ever get back.
Remembering that Rae is tiny, Dylan grabs her, and in the space of a second, he has her pinned on the couch. “Don’t make me fart on you, Raleigh Stone,” Dylan warns.
“You wouldn’t,” she shrieks.
“I thought last night would have been a clear indicator that I never matured anywhere past the age of nineteen,” Dylan says, and honestly, I’ve never heard a truer statement come from his mouth. “You know damn well that I’ll do it.”
“Okay, fine,” she says. “Let me up.”
Dylan relents and allows her the chance to get up, and when they’re both back on their feet, she meets his stare. “I hate you.”
“You love me,” he says, hooking his arm over her shoulder and yanking her into his side. “How are you feeling this morning? Bet you’re regretting that last shot of tequila right about now.”
Rae scoffs. “I’m regretting the last five shots of tequila.”
A throat clears across the room, and I glance toward the door to see Lenny and Marley making their way into the studio. “Are we spending the day fucking around or are we actually going to do some work today?” Lenny demands. “Last day of rehearsals before we jet off to Europe, and I need to know that you all have this shit down.”
“We’ve had it down since we were sixteen,” Rock says.
Lenny shakes his head, clearly not in the mood this morning, and he focuses his attention on Rae. “Raleigh, you’re with me,” he snaps before striding into the attached office with Marley hastily chasing behind.
Rae glances at Dylan and gives him a knowing look. “Showtime.”
“You’re gonna kill it,” he tells her, and with that, Rae traipses after Lenny, walking into the office and closing the door behind her.
“Woah,” Jett says, gaping after her. “Who the fuck was that? Is she the new marketing chick?”
“Sure is,” Rock says proudly.
Jett whistles low in appreciation. “Fuck me. I call dibs. Bet I can have her bent over that desk by the end of the day,” he says with a cocky laugh that has my teeth grinding. “She looks like a wild one. Bet she’s a screamer.”
Fucking silence.
Eyes become shifty. Dylan looks at me. I look at Rock. They look at each other and back to me again. Dylan subtly shakes his head, warning me not to do anything, but Rock is nodding, warning me that if I don’t put this fucker in his place now, then he will. And while I was happy to let it slide yesterday, today he’s taken it way too far.
As if knowing he’s lost this one, Dylan sighs and makes his way back toward the stage as I turn toward Jett and put Dylan’s guitar down. I take two purposeful strides toward him, and just as his brows furrow, I grip his shoulder with one hand and use the other to sucker punch him right in the gut.
He goes down like a sack of shit. “What the fuck was that for?” Jett roars, clutching his stomach in agony.
“Do you have any idea who the fuck that was?” I demand as his eyes water with pain, looking up at me from the ground. He shakes his head, and I don’t waste a second filling him in. “Raleigh Stone. Axel’s little sister, and the woman that every fucking song I’ve ever written has been about, so watch your fucking mouth when you speak about her.”
