I inhaled sharply and plopped myself onto the stool nearby. Fuck, he couldn’t say shit like that when I was leaving in two days.
Rick bit his lip as he cut along the seam on one side, then the other. Thankfully, he couldn’t see the excruciating pain in my heart at the mere thought of our imminent separation. I ruffled my hair with my hands, then slid them down my face.Stop it.We’d promised to enjoy the time we had.
“Here,” Rick said, waking me from my gloomy thoughts.
I sprang to my feet and wiggled back into the sweater, my tentacles fitting perfectly through the holes.
“Great, now you can help me with the eggnog since you have more limbs than me.”
“Rude!” “It was your idea,” he sing-songed as he bumped my hip with his.
“Yeah, but I’ll be making American Christmas cookies.” I lifted my phone to show him the simple recipe I found during the drive.
“Sugar cookies.” He pulled me close and placed a chaste kiss on my cheek.
I leaned into him, soaking up the easy atmosphere and joy being around Rick brought me.
“Last time I made them was with my mom. Well, I decorated them. And very poorly too.”
“We don’t have that tradition, but since I’m in the US for the holidays, I want to spend it like in the movies.” I rummaged in the cabinets and pulled out several bowls, a whisk, and a rolling pin with the tags still on. Had he ever cooked here?
“I planned to follow the script of Home Alone.” Rick retrieved the cookie shapes from the shopping bag and washed them.
“Oh no, I spoiled your plans, Kevin.” I tossed a handful of flour at his back. He turned around and gasped theatrically, dropping the cookie cutters into the sink. “I’ll get you for that.”
I squeaked and ran through the house, Rick’s joyous laughter and the stomp of his feet following me. He caught me eventually, and we tumbled to the floor in a fit of laughter. Fuck, when had I last laughed so much?
Rick nuzzled my neck and kissed along my jaw. We made out like teenagers at a sleepover for the longest time. Only the growling of Rick’s stomach stopped us from moving the party to his bedroom, or the shower. Instead, we returned to the kitchen, lured by the prospect of food.
Two hours later, we sat on the couch with our eggnog and munched on the cookies.
“I have to say—” I paused for dramatic effect as I shook my head. “You can write great songs and rock on stage, but you decorate cookies like a five-year-old.”
Rick burst into a rich chuckle. “Right? They look awful.”
“I love them even more for that.” The way he’d been biting his lip, focusing on decorating his batch, had been the most adorable thing I’d seen in my life. The memory of his muscled body hunched over the tray with his round ass pushed back now lived rent-free in my head.
“Yours look like they’re from a bakery.” Rick lifted one of my creations with a Christmas tree on it.
“I helped Mom decorate cakes at the restaurant. It’s not the same, but years of practice helped I guess.” I swung my legs over his lap and wiggled my toes. “You better come clean and tell me how you pulled it off.” He lifted his thick eyebrows, so I elaborated. “The concert, the band, the organ? All of it in such a short time. Zoe said you convinced them quickly. What did you do?”
“Zoe and Vinny called me nuts, and Jeremy shot me a skeptical look from his place in the corner. But I played them our recording from Orlando and they loved the song, especially the organ parts.” He stroked along my calf to my foot and held my toes; his cool touch on my warm flesh was a balm I relished. At my sound of approval, he kneaded the sole with his thumb and continued talking. “I showed them Penny and Paula’s store and told them I already bought the organ and it would be delivered a day before the concert. I think they could tell how much the song meant to me, cause they were on board the crazy train after that. With them on my side, we approached Frank, our manager. He was always against any changes to the carefully pre-planned set, but when I told him it’s a tease for a new album that I’ve been writing, he relented. Technically, it’s not true since it’s your song, but it worked.”
“You’re such a player.” I chuckled and sucked in a breath when he massaged my tired foot, then moved to the other, his big hands bringing me much needed relief.
“This concert was so different than before. And not only because Linc wasn’t there and you were. That was a huge change, but…” He looked down and shook his head, letting the stray locks from his bun fall around his face.
“Tell me only if you want to.” I stroked my tentacle down his arm, aiming to soothe him. He had my heart, but he didn’t owe me anything and I had no right to his personal secrets.
“I was more lucid.”
“What do you mean?” Had he gotten drunk before concerts before?
“I was barely nineteen when big success hit, so I reveled in the party life and the free drugs on offer. So, of course, I tried everything at least once. But some stuck with me for longer. I only got off coke after Linc was attacked.” He shrugged, looking away. “I just thought you should know.”
“I’m sorry.” I slid my legs off him to pull him to me, wrapping all my upper limbs around him. “How did you get clean?” Watching his frown, I could tell that he wanted to get it off his chest. Had he ever reached out to anyone after his brother had left?
“I got so fucking scared that night and so many questions swam in my head. Like, maybe I would have been able to help? Or I’d hear someone breaking in if I wasn’t so fucking out of it, you know?” Rick took my tentacle and put it over his lap, his fingers tracing lines between the suckers. “So that week, after we canceled the tour, I signed up to a rehab clinic. It was hell. I have no other words to describe it.” He shuddered. “But when I got out after a month, I was determined to be clean for the rest of the tour once we rescheduled the concerts. I thought I got it, that I was on a good path, and everything would be better from then on. And that’s when I found out Linc left the band.”
