“No offense taken,” I say.
Carter leads us into a guest bedroom off the foyer. It holds a few instruments, a desk, random trinkets. She points to the cozy looking window bench with a bookshelf built into the wall next to it. “My dad helped put that in.” Noting my shock, she adds, “He’s in construction. Most of the big projects we did in this house, he had a hand in. As hard as Hayden tries, he’s just not handy.”
She leads us to their primary bedroom, then to the other end of the house that is open to a gorgeous office space. It’s surrounded by windows that allow so much natural lighting. It’s filled with tripods and light reflectors. “This is my studio space here. That was important when we moved in that I had room for my work, and Hayden had room downstairs for his.” She darts her eyes at us, an optimistic look in them. “Hopefully he’ll be getting more use of it now.”
I take it as a good sign that Reid got so lost in their studio time today that he forgot about meeting me for dinner. The others seem inclined to agree.
Carter continues on with the tour, the four of us chatting along the way. I learn that Scar and Carter met on tour with the band and became fast friends from it. Jane fits in seamlessly with the two of them, having so much history with the guys and grateful when more girls were around for her to talk to.
It’d be easy to feel left out, the three of them having experienced so much together already. But they include me every chance they get, asking me about myself, my job, Reid, how I moved to LA.
By the time we walk downstairs to see the basement, I feel a part of their little group.
The house is nice, but not over the top. Every room isbathed in warm colors, walls covered in art. “Do you have any of your photos hanging?” Jane asks Carter.
She shakes her head with a sheepish smile. “If it were up to Hayden, they’d be everywhere. But I don’t know…that feels strange to me.”
“Don’t hide your art,” Scar says.
“I’m not.” Carter looks around the open-concept basement. “But I’d rather cover the wall in photos that mean something to us as a couple. Not just my own personal portfolio.”
We peak into the studio, but it’s covered with the guys’ equipment. None of us want to disturb any of it, so we quickly back out.
“Let’s go see if the guys figured out the food,” Carter says.
My stomach growls, having been waiting for Reid to get back to start making dinner. We head back upstairs toward the living room, where the guys have all gathered to watch whatever hockey game plays on the TV.
A gentle hand stops me in my tracks. Jane jerks her head, and I step to the side with her. “Sorry, I just wanted to pull you aside quickly.”
Anxiety swells in my stomach. “Sure, what’s up?”
She picks at her manicured nails, shifting in her heels. “I just wanted to let you know that I didn’t know that Reid hadn’t told you about our history, and I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable at all when we were over the other week.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” Reid and I have moved past it, and Jane is a part of this family. Now I am, too, I guess. We’re going to be around each other, and I don’t want any weird energy between us.
She smiles warmly. “I really would like for you to showme your favorite beach spots sometimes. I need someplace to unwind after work.”
“What’s this about needing to unwind?” Nikolai sidles up next to Jane, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She flushes while batting him away.
“None of your business.”
He nips at her ear. “Everything about you is my business.”
Well, I’m going to excuse myself from that. Reid beckons me over to where he’s sitting on one of the orange, velvet couches. I immediately snuggle into his side. “You good?” he asks.
I smile up at him, listening to the chatter of his family grow louder as everyone gathers in the living together. “Yeah. I’m good.”
39
Reid
Once the girls are back from their tour of the place, I see my opening. I knew this had to happen one day, and now’s as good a time as any.
Scar hovers near the perimeter of the kitchen, Walker’s arm wrapped around her waist. She’s a petite woman, but next to my best friend, she appears even smaller.
She’s never looked frail before, but she does now. Despite that though, she still has the cool, aloof look on her face as she watches everyone. And when she notices me approaching, it grows harder.
“Mind if we chat for a minute?” I ask her.
