“Everly is fucking hot and nice,” Zeke says, complimenting me.
It’s kind of flattering your favorite band thinks those things of you but not so great when they are your clients.
“She has a fantastic ass,” Eli adds.
“You can’t deny the girl is hot,” Zeke goads Hendrix.
“The mountain air has gone to your brain. She’s a five … tops,” Hendrix grumbles.
That stings. Not that I should care what an asshole like Hendrix Meyer thinks of me, he’s not that great either. His looks may be a ten, but his personality is a two at best.
“I’ve had better,” Hendrix adds.
Zeke and Eli burst out laughing at his comment.
What an ass. How dare he think he can talk about women like that?
“I’ve had better, too,” I yell down from above to them.
Silence ensures then Zeke and Eli step out from under the balcony and look up at me above them. Guilt laces Zeke and Eli’s faces. You can see they’d wish the ground would swallow them up. Then Hendrix steps out, and his cockiness seems to know no bounds as he looks up at me with a smirk falling across his pouty lips.
Screw him.
Whatever he is trying to do will not work.
“Lunch is ready,” I say over the balcony.
“Great! We’ll be right up,” Eli says, flashing me a wide smile.
I turn on my heel and walk into the kitchen to retrieve the steaks from the oven before walking back out and placing them on the table without saying a word as the boys join me.
“This looks delicious, E,” Zeke says enthusiastically as he takes a seat.
“I bet it tastes as good as it smells,” Eli adds.
Hendrix is the last to arrive and sits at the opposite end, as far away from me as he can. Good. Those hazel eyes narrow on me as he asks Zeke to pass the steaks down to him and then the salad. The table falls quiet as we eat our lunch.
“I can’t stand the silence,” Eli says, breaking first. “Everly, we are sorry you heard that earlier. Hendrix is a dick.”
“Speak for yourself, asshole,” Hendrix grumbles at his bandmate.
“Hope you heard the nice stuff we said about you,” Zeke asks, giving me a small smile.
“Suck-ass,” Hendrix spits to his friends.
“Today is not turning out the way I had wanted it to,” I explain, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I was hoping to create a serene environment that will help inspire your writing again. That getting away from negative scenarios might help that,” I explain to them.
“Are you wanting to be our muse?” Hendrix asks, glaring from his end of the table.
“What? No,” I splutter. Where the hell did he get that idea? “I want you guys to heal and create greatness again.”
“How can we be great as a threesome?” Hendrix answers curtly.
“We’ve had some great threesomes,” Zeke interjects a joke trying to ease the tense conversation. Eli high-fives him.
“Everything’s a joke to you guys, isn’t it?” Hendrix turns his venom onto his bandmates.
“It has to be … otherwise, we would all be drowning in darkness like you are,” Zeke bites back.
“And you both think you’re not?” Hendrix questions his friends.
“Maybe we should start fresh tomorrow,” I advise, hoping to steer the conversation back to a place that will not end in a fight.
“Zeke, you pummeled me earlier today because I mentioned Brodie. Look at my face,” Hendrix shouts as he waves his hand over his bruising.
“That’s not fair, Hendrix. You were goading him,” Eli says, jumping into the fight.
Zeke’s shoulders sink with guilt. “I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough sometimes,” Hendrix screams across the table before standing up abruptly, swiping his hand across the table, and scattering his plates all over the floor. They shatter as soon as they hit the wooden floors, the sound echoing through the dining room, making me cringe.
Hendrix’s seat is empty—he’s gone.
The table is stunned by his outburst.
Maybe things are a lot worse than I first thought. I don’t know if Dirty Texas realize how far-gone Hendrix is in his grief. This is going to take a lot more than escaping LA to fix these guys.
“Sorry about him. We’ll clean up his mess. You shouldn’t have to after cooking us a fantastic lunch,” Eli tells me as he gets up and begins cleaning Hendrix’s mess.
Zeke stands, walks over to where I’m sitting, and stares down at me. “Come here,” he says, holding out his arms to me.
I frown at his outstretched arms.
“I promise I’m not being creepy. I feel like after today, you need a hug,” he states, giving me a lopsided smile.
“It’s not really appropriate, Zeke.”
“I know, but sometimes a hug is all you need.” He grins, wiggling his hands for me to enter.
I don’t think he’s going to back down, so I stand and step into his embrace. His muscular arms wrap around me as he pulls me tightly into his hard chest.
“Come on, hug me back. I need one too,” he says as a chuckle vibrates through his chest and against mine.
I go against my instincts and wrap my arms around the hulking man. It’s like being hugged by a giant grizzly bear.
“Now that’s better,” he coos as he holds me.
My muscles relax in his embrace. It feels nice. Maybe I needed this hug more than I thought. But, I’m not about to tell Zeke that because I don’t want to encourage this behavior.
“Look, Hendrix will come around. He’s not always like this,” Zeke explains to me. “You have taken on a lot with us. We’ve grown up with no one giving a shit about us, so when people try to help us, we don’t believe them. It’s hard for us to drop that foster kid mentality sometimes. Eli and I can see you’re a good person. Vanessa and Christian wouldn’t have suggested you for the job if you didn’t have the skills,” he says, tightening his hug. “Eli and I promise we will do better. We want to do better, but we might fight you along the way. Old habits die hard.”
“I don’t want to make you all miserable,” I mumble against his hard chest.
Zeke pulls away and moves one of his hands from my back to my jaw to cup it. “How could we be miserable when you’re around?”
That is the nicest thing I’ve heard today. I look up into Zeke’s ice-blue eyes, and I can see he means it. His thumb slides along my cheek as butterflies begin to lift off in my stomach. You need to back away from this situation immediately, Everly.
“Zeke!” I try to say his name in warning, but it comes out a little huskier than I would have liked.
“You really are beautiful. All the things I would love to do to you,” he states in a gravelly voice, which has my insides tingly with need. “But I won’t. I’m going to respect the boundaries you have set for the month. I want to be a better man … for you.”
“Don’t do it for me, do it for you,” I tell him.
Zeke’s eyes narrow on me. “Fine. I’ll do it for me. Making you fall in love with me will be a bonus,” he says, giving me a wink. As he steps away from me, taking his generous heat with him, it leaves a chill lacing my body.