Tempest of Change Page 7

  Sunday November 1st

  ∞

  Oh God, I’d forgotten how embarrassing it is to wake up to your friend’s morning wood. I definitely need to start kicking these guys out of bed at night. Ugh. It’s only a matter of time before they wake up and this becomes even more awkward than it already is.

  I try to slowly extract myself from between them, only for Jared’s leg to capture mine as he snuggles closer, his morning problem pressing harder against my thigh.

  “It’s too early,” he grumbles.

  “I wouldn’t have taken you for a snuggler,” I tease, lightly pushing on his shoulder.

  “There are lots of things you don’t know about me Pixie,” he responds sleepily without loosening his grip.

  “Ugh,” Ian groans behind me. “If we have to be awake, can’t we do it in silence?” I snicker, trying free my leg from Jared’s.

  “You can have quiet time as soon as you let me up,” I say, managing to get free and roll onto my stomach. Ian mutters but shifts away from me. Grabbing the opportunity, I pull my knees up under me and start scooting backwards down the bed.

  “No more sleeping in my bed if you’re going to trap me!” I warn.

  Jared grabs my abandoned pillow and covers his head. “You said no snoring. Nothing about snuggling.”

  I huff a laugh and almost fall off the foot of the bed. The two of them clearly don’t plan on getting up, so I might as well take the opportunity and commandeer first use of the bathroom.

  Locking the door, I turn on the shower and glance in the mirror. Ugh, my hair is a disaster. Damn, I’ll have to wash my hair later. Samil never did get around to telling me how to take care of my new tattoo, but I can’t imagine dousing the plastic in soapy water is good for it. Once the water warms up, I jump in for a quick shower, careful to not get my back wet.

  Reality presses in on me as I remember why we’d never had that conversation. My Mom was gone. I hadn’t expected anything from my Father; after all I’d only seen him a handful of times since waking up from the “incident”. But Mom had been there the whole time, even though we’d never developed the bond I’d hoped for. My chest tightens at the idea that she could just throw me away. A sob breaks through my lips and I slid to the floor, trying to hold back the tears.

  “Emmy!” Ian shouts, pounding on the door. “Are you ok in there?”

  I take a deep breath and try to pull myself together.

  “I’m ok,” I call, but it barely comes out as a whisper. Clearing my throat, I try again. “I’m good; I’ll be out in a few minutes.” I manage to pull myself off the floor and stick my face back in the spray to wash away the tears. I turn off the water, grab a towel, and quickly dry myself off. Grabbing the fluffy black and pink skull robe off the hook, I slip it on, tying the belt tight before opening the door.

  Ian’s waiting on the other side. His back is to me, as he leans against the wall. His fingers tapping steadily against his thigh.

  “Hey, Ian,” I say, and he spins to face me. His ocean blue eyes widening as he takes in my robe, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

  “It’s all yours.” I say, trying to play off what happened. Jared groans from the bed, shifting around to look at us.

  “Jesus, Pixie, why are you wearing a robe? What happened to your clothes?” He grumbles.

  I raise an eyebrow in response. “You do realize you invaded my room. Go find another bedroom if you have a problem with the view,” I snark, moving around Ian to my closet.

  “Emmy…” Ian starts, but his words drop off as I step inside and grab the door handle.

  “Go take a shower, Ian. Sorry I don’t have any clean clothes that will fit you guys.” I pull the door shut and flip on the light. Meh, I don’t really care what I wear today, so I grab some lingerie and the first dress off the rack. Once I’ve got my bra and underwear on, I pause. Damn it, I still need to find out how to take care of the tattoo. I look at the dress I’d grabbed and frown. Not going with a high collared look today. Thinking for a minute, I grab another dress, this time a body hugging black spaghetti strapped maxi dress with a low back. That should work. Except I’ll need help putting it on if I don't want to accidentally pull off the wrapping covering my tattoo.

  I open the door and check the room. Ian’s nowhere to be found, but the water running in the bathroom confirms where he’s at. Jared’s still in bed, lying on his stomach now, a pillow over his head. I cross the room and grab the pillow, whacking him in the back with it.

  “Wake up and make yourself useful.” I demand with a grin. Groaning, he turns and looks at me, his eyes practically popping out of his head.

  “You are killing me, Pixie,” he groans. “What happened to your robe? Where’s your modesty?”

  “Must have lost it with my memory,” I quip, tossing my dress at him. “Help me put this on. I still don’t know how to take care of my tattoo. But I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t pull off the wrap till one of you explains it to me.”

  Grumbling, Jared sits up, his loose blue black hair falling around his bare shoulders. When the hell had he taken off his shirt? I turn around and put my arms up so I don’t get caught staring at his chest. I hear him stand up behind me, and then the dress is over my head, the straps hitting my shoulders. He makes sure the fabric is past the tattoo before letting go and allowing it to fall to my ankles. I wait till I hear him settle back on the bed before turning around. Jared lays there staring at me, with the blanket pulled up to his waist.

  “Thanks a bunch!” I grin, heading for the door.

  “Aren’t you going to do something about your hair?” He asks with a smirk.

  “Well, Ian’s still monopolizing the bathroom, so I might as well see if Samil is up to helping with the tattoo now.” Turning to the desk, I pull my hair back and twist it up into a messy bun. Grabbing a pen from the drawer, I shove it through the bun. “Better now?” I ask. Without waiting for a reply, I slip out of the door and downstairs to the kitchen.

  I find Samil sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping coffee with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His magenta hair is still damp and swept back from his face, showing off the tattoo on the side of his head. How had I forgotten to ask about that?

  “Good morning, Em. Hope you don’t mind, I did some laundry. I’ve got the clothes in the dryer right now.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. Use whatever you need.” I wave off his concern and head to the fridge, trying not to look back at him. Ok, maybe I should have cut Jared some slack when I walked out in my lingerie. Knowing Samil isn’t wearing anything under that towel, had my heart racing and I can feel the heat in my cheeks.

  “And good morning to you too,” I say, pulling a coke from the fridge. Just ignore it, it’s perfectly normal for the guys to wander around the house mostly naked. Ugh, I need to think about something else.

  “So, Samil, what am I supposed to be doing to take care of this tattoo?” The buzzer from the dryer goes off, thank god.

  “Here, I’ll show, just give me a couple minutes,” Samil says, standing and offering me his stool before disappearing from the room. He’s back in ten minutes, fully dressed and carrying the bag from the shop. Moving behind me his energy brushes again my skin as he carefully removes the wrap. He grabs a clean towel from the drawer, and gets it damp in the sink before using it to gently wiping my back clean and patting it dry. Putting the towel aside, he pulls a tube of ointment out of the bag and lightly covers the tattoo. His warm hands against my skin, sending shivers up my spine. Finally he steps back and the feel of his energy slowly recedes.

  “I’ll walk you through it on mine now,” he says, pulling his shirt off and grabbing another stool. “You’ll probably want to keep your hair up today so it doesn’t stick to the ointment.” I nod, keeping my eyes focused on my coke. Why did he have to be so hot? It’s totally distracting. Not fair. I take another sip before standing up and grabbing the towel.

  “So first you want to lightly clean it off,” Samil explain
s. “It would be better to clean it with soap and water, but with the placement, we’ll need help with that.” I follow his instructions, trying to ignore the brush of his energy as I clean the tattoo. “Now lightly pat it dry and then apply the ointment.” Applying the ointment, I try not to notice the smooth feel of his skin.

  “So where are Bast and Clayton?” I ask, looking for a distraction.

  “They ran next door for some clean clothes” Samil replies. “They should be back soon.” I set the ointment down on the counter and step back.

  “Do you need help with your shirt?”

  “Nah, I’ll leave it off for now,” he says with a shrug and I sit back down. “So, are you ready to talk about last night?”

  “What’s there to talk about?” I reply, staring at the Coke can. “I’ll see what the lawyer says tomorrow and go from there.”

  “You know we’ll be here for you Em,” he says quietly. “We’ve already talked about it, and we can rotate spending the night here with you.” I glance over at him, but he’s staring into his coffee cup, his mood unreadable. What a wonderful picture we must make, both of us staring awkwardly at our drinks.

  “That would be great, actually,” I reply, nudging his shoulder till he looks over. I flash him a smile and continue. “It was bad enough being here knowing she was out cold due to the sleeping pills. Being totally alone would be awful, even with the security system.”

  “You know we would stay over any time you want,” Samil assures, taking my free hand in his and returning my smile. “We’ll talk about it later today and firm up the details.”

  “Talk about what?” Ian asks, popping into the kitchen and heading to the coffee maker.

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” I reply, sticking out my tongue. “You should have gotten down here faster.” Ian nods agreeably and grabs a stool at the counter table with us, as Jared ambles in. His hair pulled back in its usual ponytail.

  “Morning. Who do we have to thank for the clean clothes?” Jared asks, pulling out the orange juice and pouring himself a glass. “Pixie doesn’t strike me as the domestic type.”

  I snort, and stick my tongue out at him. “You got that right.”

  “No worries,” Samil replies. “I was doing my own anyways. You can be on laundry duty next time.” Oh crap. I need to learn how to do laundry. Or hire someone to do it like Mom did. Had she cancelled the cleaning service that had been coming over twice a week to take care of that, as well as everything else around the house? Ugh, this is going to be a nightmare.

  “What are you thinking on so hard, Pixie?” Jared asks, and I snap back to myself, glancing over. He’s leaning back against the counter watching me intently.

  “Laundry,” I shrug. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m meeting with the lawyer tomorrow. There are probably a million things I’ve never had to worry about, that I’ll have to take care of now.” I rub my forehead to ease the headache that’s starting to build at the thought of being on my own. Part of me wonders why they didn't just let me go off to college and live in the dorms instead of bringing me here and then dumping me. At least if I’d been in the dorms, I’d have already gotten used to a life on my own.

  “No more deep thoughts today,” Ian says, rubbing my lower back. “You’ve got us to help you with anything you need.” I open my eyes and smile at him, surprised to see Clayton and Sebastian had joined us at some point while I was zoning out.

  “I know, and thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

  “Well, you don’t need to think about that, Trouble,” Clayton rumbles, coming forward and spinning me on the stool to wrap me in a warm hug. “We’ll always be here for you.” He drops a kiss on my forehead before stepping back.

  “Before I space out and forget,” I start, glancing at Samil who nods encouragingly, “I wanted you all to know that you’re welcome here anytime. Think of the rooms you picked out as yours, to use whenever you like.”

  “Hey, Ian and I haven’t picked rooms,” Jared points out.

  “Well you can’t have mine, so you better hop to it,” I wrinkle my nose and stick my tongue out at him. The twins exchange looks and grin.

  “We’re on it, just as soon as we finish down here. Since we got interrupted yesterday, we didn’t get to give you your birthday kisses.” I raise an eyebrow and notice that all the guys are smiling at me. “Ian and I are going first,” Jared continues, as Ian swings my stool to face him. My eyes widen as he leans in and his lips lightly brush each of my cheeks, my forehead, and then the tip of my nose.

  “Happy Birthday, Emmy!” He smiles before getting up and letting Jared takes his place. Jared’s stubble brushes my skin, his lips more firm as he repeats the pattern of kisses. He smirks as he steps back to stand with Ian near the doorway. Then my stool is turning again, and Clayton lifts me up so our faces are level. I squeal, wrapping my arms and legs around him in surprise.

  “You couldn’t have just bent down?” I ask, playfully hitting his shoulder. Shaking his head, he grins at me, brown eyes twinkling.

  “Where would the fun be in that? These are birthday kisses after all!” He makes a big show of each kiss, complete with lip smacking noises to accompany them. Giggling uncontrollably, I try to dodge.

  “Hold still Trouble. You don’t want me to miss and kiss your eyeball.” I snort a laugh but stop moving so he can land his last two kisses. “Happy Birthday.”

  “My turn,” Sebastian cheers, moving in behind me. “Pass me the Sprite.” Somehow Sebastian manages to catch hold under my knees as I unwind my legs from Clayton. I end up cradled in Sebastian’s arms bridal style. The glow around him practically crackles in my vision for a moment before fading as he pressed his lips on my cheeks, forehead and nose. “Happy Birthday, Sprite!” He sings and winks at me. “She’s all yours, Samil.” He says with a grin as he places me in Samil’s lap.

  I look at Samil, but instead of bestowing kisses, he just watches me with his head tilted to the side. The indigo and violet of his aura swirl forward until it fills my vision.

  “Well?” I finally ask, raising an eyebrow. “Where are my kisses?” His smile is so brief; I almost think I imagine it. Then he’s leaning forward, and his warm lips drop kisses in the now familiar pattern. The lingering presence of each of their different energy rushes over my skin and I know without a doubt, whatever happens next we can handle it together. My guys won’t abandon me.

  “Happy Birthday, Em.”

  ∞

  We spend the rest of the day hanging around the house, discussing who would stay over when. Sometimes a couple of the guys would disappear for an hour, and return with bags or boxes that quickly disappear upstairs. At some point the numbness begins to creep back in.

  “We should get a TV for in here,” Sebastian says, detouring me from the kitchen and pulling me into one of the back rooms. I glance around the unfamiliar room, taking in the dark wood paneling and shiny leather couches in the seating area. A pool table dominates the center of the room. Clearly another area decorated for Father, since I can’t imagine Mom ever playing pool.

  I shrug. “Sure, we could do that.” I reply, not really caring one way or the other. I’d forgotten about the lack of TVs in my life till the boys pointed it out, and I didn’t have any memories of them to miss.

  “It’s going to be awesome,” Sebastian grins, pulling me further into the room. “We’ll ditch the ugly painting.” He motions to the far wall. “And hang a 80” flat screen in its place. Add some consoles and a Blu Ray, and you’ll be in the 21st century finally.”

  I laugh at his enthusiasm. “Sure, that sounds good.”

  Grabbing me around the waist, he falls backwards down on the closest sofa, dragging me down on top of him.

  “Ugh, we’ll need some new sofas too. These are fucking uncomfortable.” he grouches, and I laugh. “Your parents sure liked uncomfortable furniture.”

  “Maybe they were trying to discourage visitors?” I shrug. It wasn’t something I‘d ev
er given any thought to. “But who knows. I certainly don’t.” Sebastian tightens his hold on me.

  “Their loss Sprite, not yours. You’ve always been amazing in my eyes.” I smile up at him and he grins, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “And now you don’t need to worry about them at all!” He tickles me, and I scream squirming away and rolling off the sofa onto the floor.

  Monday November 2nd

  ∞

  The school day passes in a blur. I go through the motions, trying to pretend everything is ok.

  The twins headed home eventually late Sunday night, but Samil, Sebastian, and Clayton stayed over, breaking in their rooms at my Mom’s, or maybe it was my house now. They were up bright and early this morning. Someone had made breakfast and they managed to fill the kitchen with laughter. Sebastian drove us to school, and escorted me to art class.

  The reality of the lawyer meeting settled in on me at lunch time, although the guys did their best to try and distract me from my nerves. I had no idea what was going to happen at the meeting, and truth be told, I was terrified. They filled the hour with stories about the bones they managed to break over the years, climbing trees and playing hockey. By the end, they had me laughing at the image of Sebastian trying to talk them into letting him go swimming with them by wearing a full body suit made of trash bags to keep his cast dry.

  After lunch, I ditched Fashion Construction and spent the last two hours hiding out in the library, shutting off my brain with a mystery novel.

  Sebastian and Samil found me shortly after the bell announced the end of our day.

  “You ready to get out of here, Sprite?”

  “Yup, let’s get this over with,” I reply, shouldering my bag and following them into the hall. Sebastian loops his arm around my shoulder as we enter the crowded corridor.

  “Need anything from your locker, Em?” Samil asks, glancing back at us.

  “Nope, I took care of that before study hall,” I tell them. No way was I letting them get a look into my locker. While there hadn’t been anything major since the glitter bomb, I wasn’t going to chance them finding any new notes. I barely used the locker anyways, let the morons leave all the notes they wanted.