Rhythm, Chord & Malykhin (20 page)

Gordo looked like he was in church as he threw his hands in the air. "Every human being would have been interested."

"So, my point is, Flabby. That guy more than likes you," he finally finished. “Quit being dumb and worried and all shy and shit because we all know you’re really not, and get on it. ”

I was reeling. My heart felt like it could beat through softened butter. I remembered, I remembered all too well his mouth on my shoulder. On my jaw. Oh God.

"I guess that means, I gotta start saving, huh?" Eliza asked me with a squeeze to the shoulder.

"For what?" I croaked, still thinking more about what he'd said.

"Your wedding, estupid. I'll pay for your motherfucking wedding if you're going to marry Sacha one day." He held up his glass of orange juice in Gordo's direction for a toast. "I like that guy."

I
’d almost forgotten
that Sacha’s mom was supposed to drop by to see her baby boy.

Two days before the end of the Australian leg of the tour, I was completely caught off-guard by the stunning, intense woman who came into the venue while I was helping Julian put together his drum set.

Mrs. Malykhin—if her last name was still that since she and Sacha’s dad were divorced, from what I gathered—was a delicately boned woman with the same color hair as her son. Tall and slim, her carriage was erect. Seriously, if there was someone that looked like an ideal queen it would have been her.

She also seemed to speak the way I imagined royalty would. I could hear her from across the venue as they headed in our direction.

Sacha answered with something I couldn’t hear clearly, but he did reach over and put his hand on her shoulder as the beginning of a smile curved over his mouth.

The “ugh” that came from my side had me turning my head to glance at Julian who was busy setting up his kick drum while I did his cymbals for the first time. As a late birthday present, I’d offered to help him set up from time to time. His attention was on the same people, except his nose was scrunched. When he realized I’d caught his expression he poked at the inside of his cheek with his tongue, his face unapologetic. “His mom is…” he trailed off with a whisper, “a snob.”

“Really?” I whispered back.

“Yeah.” He glanced back over at his band mate and visitor. “You’ll see.””

“You’re scaring me.”

“She’s a famous opera singer,” he quickly explained. “In her mind, Sach is throwing away this amazing talent she gave him and it’s all our fault, and she lets us know that each time she shows up.”

I grimaced and Julian nodded.

He paused before adding quickly, “Don’t call her Mrs. Malykhin.”

Before I could thank him for the warning, the husky female voice called out. “Hello, Julian.”

The TCC member plastered a smile on his face as he walked around the part of the drum set he’d been working on. “Hi, Miss Viktoriya.” He gave me a meaningful side-glance that I took to be a sign. “It’s been a long time.”

Taller close-up than she looked from across the venue, she had to be at least five-ten and definitely didn’t look old enough to have her youngest child be almost thirty, much less have five kids. The elegant woman held out a slim hand in Julian’s direction. He took it and kissed it.

Literally. He kissed her hand. I’d never seen that happen in person, and I suddenly wondered why.

My eyes shot over to Sacha who was standing a few feet behind his mother. He smiled at me, opening his mouth at the same time. “Mom, I want you to meet someone,” he said as he closed the distance between him and me.

Miss Viktoriya turned her entire body to face me. The similarities between mother and son were striking. They had the same cheekbones, the same transparent gray to their irises, and the same kind of extraordinary beauty. All that attention and confidence was now on me, and I lost the fight to not fidget.

But wonderful Sacha must have sensed or seen my anxiety because he cut in. “Mom, this is Gaby. Gaby, this is my mom.”

Damn it. He’d called her by what he knew her as but that didn’t give me a clue whether to call her Miss Viktoriya too or not.

I smiled tightly at the woman and held out my hand in her direction, making it clear—at least I hoped—that I wasn’t going to be kissing her hand like Julian had done, no matter how famous she was. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

Even as she took my palm in hers in a handshake that was absolutely not limp-fish in any way, shape or form, she eyed me up and down discreetly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. I’ve heard so much about you.”

So much about me? What the hell was up with that?

I knew I wasn't exactly at my best, but I'd opted to wear jeans instead of sweats and a formfitting kids’ sweater I'd picked up in Brisbane that had a koala on it with
Australia
written in rainbow letters. Eli had been nice enough to braid my hair after I'd promised to give him Tylenol in return for his headache, like I wouldn't have given it to him regardless.

I glanced expectantly at Sacha who was just standing two feet away by then with a pleased expression on his face, smiling this grand, beaming thing that made my chest shimmer on the inside. We hadn't gotten a chance to talk since the whole kiss-on-the-neck thing the night before. I'd fallen asleep on the ride home and barely made it to my room intact.

"We're going to eat. Do you want to come with us?” he asked me.

“I can’t, I promised Carter I’d help him count merch.”

He nodded but it was his mom that spoke up. “That’s too bad. Maybe next time,” she said but I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or if she really meant it.

"Sach!" Miles started yelling at him from the back door to the venue.

He frowned and said something about being right back while his mom stayed where she was, her attention on me. The second Sacha was far enough away from us, she took a step forward. Her entire demeanor turned serious and tense.

“Is this all you do?” she asked coolly.

“Do you mean sell merchandise?” I made sure to draw the question out so that I could understand what she clearly meant. Apparently Sacha had told her enough about me so that she’d know I sold merch. I eyed Julian but he was busy pretending to mess with his equipment. Coward.

“Yes.”

“Right now it is. I just graduated. I’m not sure what I’m doing.”

Miss Viktoriya hummed, giving me another thorough inspection. “From high school?”

“From college.”

Her ridiculously long eyelashes lowered just a fraction. “What did you study?”

Yeah, I didn’t care for her tone at all, and I felt my own eyes narrowing in her direction. “History.”

The tip of her nose rose a quarter of an inch. “What are you planning on doing with that?”

Why did I feel like I was going through the weirdest, most judgmental job interview ever? Well, if she thought I was going to cower, she had another thing coming. “I have no idea.”

“I see,” she said but it wasn’t exactly in an “I think you’re an idiot” tone, more like… curious. Actually interested. On the other hand, maybe I was imagining it.

Glancing to the side quickly, I spotted Sacha making his way back toward us. Apparently so did she because the next thing I knew, Miss Viktoriya, reigning queen of perfectly powered opera performances, took a step forward and whispered, "My boy has always known what he wants, and he dives into things head first without hesitation. Break his heart, and I will ruin your life."

She left me with those words.

“What did she say to you?” Julian finally spoke up once the opera singer was gone.

I blinked at him, still figuring out what the hell she’d meant. “I think she just threatened me.”

He didn’t look remotely surprised; he simply tipped his chin down. “Makes sense.”

T
hat night
, when he knocked on my door and I asked him for the password, he said, "Gaby should get a gold medal for being alive."

I laughed because I wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not, like most things that came out of his mouth. "Anddd?"

"I have a present for you," he said following a chuckle.

"Seriously, Sassy, you don’t always have to bring something," I told him, opening the door with a smile on my face.

He grinned as he shuffled in, kicking off his shoes as he pushed a yellow bag in my direction. "I saw it when I went to dinner with my mom," he explained before I'd even opened the bag.

"You're spoiling me," I looked up at him briefly before pulling out a small white shirt with a baby kangaroo on it, the words
Call Me Joey
written in lime-green bubble letters. I laughed and threw my arms around Sacha a split second later, aiming for his waist. "Thank you, Sassy."

Sacha squeezed me back, wrapping his arms over the tops of my shoulders. "You're very welcome."

We stayed like that for a moment, then two moments, five moments, eight moments. One of his arms loosened around me before I felt him smooth a hand down my wet hair. "You know you don't have to buy me anything ever,” I said. "I'd let you in even if the only thing you brought was bad breath."

He laughed while rubbing that free hand smoothly over the small of my back. "I know."

"Okay."

His hand slipped an inch up the back of my shirt, fingertips brushing my bare skin at the same time his mouth dipped down to my temple. "I like that you don't expect me to buy you things, that's why I do it."

Something tugged at my brain, making me think of Ronalda and how Sacha would pull her chair out for her, and how she wanted him to sacrifice so much for her. Maybe he did things like that because she demanded it? I pushed the thought away, not wanting to think of her when it was me in this moment with this beautiful man.

"Thank you, anyway." I told him dumbly, breathlessly.

Sacha pulled away just an inch before tipping my head back. He gave me a sly, seductive smile. "You're the easiest person in the world to please,” he breathed, kissing my cheek softly.

The fact that he was kissing my cheek and I was standing there handling it as if it wasn’t a big deal was something I was going to replay later on when the moment was broken and I wasn’t living in it any longer.

"Is that a good thing?"

His smile morphed again, into one that made me think of a secret. "It's a great thing."

S
acha poked
me in the side. "Stay awake."

I didn't even bother covering my yawn as I eyed him sleepily, the television a steady hum in the background. The last time I'd looked at the clock, it showed that it was after three in the morning. Eli had woken me up early to explain that our flights had been cancelled and that we'd be leaving the following afternoon instead.

I wasn’t sure why he hadn’t just told me at a normal hour in the day instead of at the crack of dawn, but then again, I didn't know why my brother did half of the things that he did.

My gray-eyed, self-proclaimed best friend was lying on my bed, shoulders pressed against the headboard while I sat cross-legged next to him, nodding off. "I'm sleepy, but you can stay," I told him with a yawn again.

"Come here," he murmured, patting the empty space between our bodies.

What do you do when a man like Sacha Malykhin wants you to lie down next to him? You do it. Preferably naked, but I was too tired to even think anything more suggestive than that. So I settled for a tired smile and untangled my legs to scoot into the designated spot. I stretched out next to him while he moved to lie flat against the bed, extending his right arm out for me to lie on top of. He curled his arm as soon as I settled in, pulling me over so until I had my head on his chest.

I may have draped my arm over his stomach as nonchalantly as possible.

"You're warm," I mumbled against his black T-shirt. I yawned again and blinked, trying my best to stay awake and enjoy our closeness. “I never told you,” I yawned. “You look just like your mom.”

“You think so?”

I nodded into him. I hadn’t told him what his mom had said. I didn’t see the point. Then there was also the fact that I wasn’t sure what the hell she meant by ruining my life, so… I was going to let it go and blame it on her being a diva. “Girlish features and everything.”

His chest rumbled under my head. “You always know what to say to make me feel like a million bucks.”

“You can thank me for my friendship later.”

He laughed again. “I’ll remember to do that.” It was his turn to yawn. "Sit with me tomorrow?"

"As long as you—," I let out another long yawn, "let me sleep on your legs, and I'll let you nap on mine."

"Deal."

I pressed my forehead closer to his smooth jaw.

Sacha squeezed me to him with a sigh. "Go to sleep, Princess," he said in his quiet voice.

"Okay," I mumbled.

Sacha stroked my arm with his fingers, once, twice, three times. "
Frère Jacques, frère Jacques, dormez-vous? Dormez-vous? Sonnez les matines, sonnez les matines, ding ding dong, ding ding dong
," he sang softly.

I smiled against him, tilting my head up, up, up. "Goodnight, Sassy."

He stroked my arm once more before I felt him shift beneath me, my head tucking deeper into his chest. The moment was sleepy, and warm, and sweet, and it was perfect. He pressed his lips against mine gently just for a moment, and then he kissed my nose.

He’d kissed me.

Even in my nearly delirious state, I recognized that sinking feeling deep

in my chest. No eclipse could overshadow the fact that I was absolutely in love with this guy, and it was the easiest and simplest thing in the world.

"
Y
ou look comfy
," Sacha drawled with a smile. He was sitting on the bench in front of the one I was on, with his bright red hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows. God, he was so cute.

I glanced down at the two men sleeping on me. My brother had his head on my lap, drooling, while Mason had his head on my shoulder, also drooling. Despite the fact that it was two in the afternoon, the pair were apparently exhausted over whatever craziness they'd experienced the night before. All I understood from their rambling babblings was something about a strip club, New Zealand girls and a banana.

I didn't want to know anything more. I could live without becoming scarred for life.

So now they were passed out on top of me, soaking my hoodie and jeans with their saliva, but I didn't have the heart to push them off. The drive to the airport was a little less than an hour, and they were busy taking full advantage of it.

"I've been more comfortable," I smiled at him, thinking about when I'd woken up that morning.

Sacha had been wiggling under me, trying to ease me onto the bed as gently as possible. He'd pressed a kiss on my cheek, told me he had an interview and that he'd see me later, then he blew hot morning breath on my face and left. Only I would think that was charming.

His phone started ringing for the fourth time since we'd gotten into the van, and he sighed. Again. It wasn't my business to ask whom he was avoiding but… the curiosity was fucking killing me. Isaiah, who was sitting next to him, grunted in frustration.

"Answer the phone, man. I'm sick of hearing it ring," he complained softly.

I could see Sacha roll his eyes before pulling out his phone and shifting his position to face forward. I immediately got a little wary of his action. There'd been a handful of times that his parents or his sisters had called while we were together, and he'd answered their calls without a second thought. He didn't care if I heard what was said but his hesitation at answering that call right then, told me there was something he was trying to avoid.

I trusted him. A lot. He hadn't given me a reason to doubt that he cared for me or that he was honest. On the other hand, we had only known each other a little over two months. It had taken Brandon three years to fuck up.

"Flabby," Eliza groaned as his hand started patting around my knee before landing on his face. He wiped at his lips and then touched the spot of drool he'd left on my pants. "Ahh fuck."

As much as I wanted to eavesdrop on the conversation that Sassy was having in front of me, my brother had decided to start yapping right then. What a useless ass.

"Is that drool?" he mumbled.

"No, it's Kool-Aid, dumbass," I snickered, brushing my hand over the short ends of his hair that had just barely began to curl after more than a month.

Eli smiled against my leg, making a noise that sounded like a low, sleepy chuckle. "Drink it later, then." He blinked twice before closing his eyes and going back to sleep.

Gross.

The faint conversation from the seat in front of ours made me stop breathing so I could listen better. What's funny was that everyone else awake in the van had lowered their voices when Sacha started talking. It had only taken me a few weeks to learn that these guys were worse at gossiping than teenage girls. Even though they tried to play off their interest, they ate up anything that caught their attention.

Like the time Isaiah got propositioned by a fan, who offered him five hundred dollars to sleep with her.

Or the time that a fan had asked my brother, Gordo and Miles if he could lick their shoes.

Then there was the time that Mason—

There were a lot of things that had happened that the guys had been all too excited to talk about.

Obviously, there was something about this conversation that caught their attention.

"I already told you… Lizzy, I'm not changing my mind…" Sacha spoke into the receiver.
Lizzy? The fuck?
Before I could ponder it much longer, he kept going. “No, there's no one else. I don't want to get back together because it's my choice. Just like you decided you didn't want to be together, I don't want to pick up where we left off…" I felt like I was being stabbed as he talked. "I care about you. You know that. You mean a lot to me, but that doesn't mean I want to be with you. I'm done explaining this to you over and over again."

I could see his reflection in the glass. His eyes were closed and his forehead was pressed against the cool window. My heart was beating frantically even though I know it shouldn't be. Nothing that Sacha was saying was technically wrong. Technically. It was his choice that he didn't want to get back together with his ex. He did care about her. I mean, they'd been together for a while.

I felt sick. Sacha cared about me too. I knew he did. Every vessel in my blood knew it. But maybe that's why he hadn't put more of a move on me? Because he didn't want to be tied down to anyone? A simple kiss wasn’t a promise ring or anything. It didn’t have to mean anything romantic. And… there was a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. I knew that.

My realization and acceptance from the night before was strangling. I was in love with a man who maybe loved me according to others, but maybe didn't love me the way that I wanted. Maybe he didn’t want a relationship. I had men in my life that loved me in a platonic way. What was one more? And why did I feel betrayed that he still cared about Ariel Number Two? Sacha was a nice guy. Hell, he was the nicest guy I had ever met. It was probably just in his system to care for people, but…

I reached over Eli's big body to grab the backpack he had on his lap, and fished out his expensive studio earphones, plugging them into my phone as quickly as I could as I zoned out the man on the phone. Flicking through the albums I had saved in my library, I chose the one at the top of the list and raised the volume as loud as tolerable.

Closing my eyes, I let my head drop back to the seat and put a hand on each of the guys beside me.