Maddox settles at the table, and I sit across from him. “Surprised you two didn’t want to nap when you got here,” I say.
“You distracted me,” he says, and I eye him playfully, causing him to smirk in a manner that makes my thighs tighten.
I expect him to make another clever comment; however, he doesn’t say anymore before leaning around the table and cupping his hand to his mouth. “Jesus, fuck, Reed,” Maddox shouts. “Are you fucking her against the door or something? I’m starving. Tell her to come back after we’ve eaten.”
I hang my head in my hand and laugh.
Reed slams the door a moment later and comes around the corner with the food in his hands and a grin on his expressive face. He waves the receipt in both our faces, and I see a number written in blue pen on the back.
“You shitbag.” Maddox grins at him. “You haven’t even been home an hour.”
Reed wiggles the receipt tauntingly in front of his nose, then does a dance that is soveryReed.
“Thank fuck I’m sleeping over the garage and don’t have to hear this girl’s fake moans,” I say as I take salads and side dishes out of the bag. “Why didn’t you originally claim the one over the garage?”
“I’m not taking her upstairs,” Reed says, grabbing a slice of pizza. “I’ll rail her fucking brains out over the middle console of that pretty Jeep she’s driving.”
“How romantic,” I tease, rolling my eyes at his glee. Even still, I can’t get mad at him as he sits beside me and softly nudges my side, the smile I grew up being so fond of radiating on his face.
He’s still my little brother, and the sentiment drives deep when I peer across the table at Maddox, whose flirtatious gleam has softened into something resembling sadness.
As if he’s thinking the same thing I am.
CHAPTER FOUR - MADDOX
“ALL RIGHT, RALEIGH, we are back with our special guests today,” the radio DJ, Paul, says into the microphone the next day. “Lead singer, Reed Matthews, and bassist, Mads Tourning, of Young Decay are in the house, and we’re talking to them about the Halloween homecoming run they have coming up this weekend. If you don’t have your tickets, there are a few left for Thursday night’s concert. Friday and Saturday are sold out.” Paul looks between myself and Reed. “How does it feel being home?” he asks.
I’m still trying to wake up.
Despite the espresso Reed’s mother had ready for us once we dragged our asses to breakfast, I’m struggling. It was nice seeing her again. She didn’t seem to care about what I’d said all those months ago.
She took me in like no time had passed.
“It’s great,” Reed says. “We love being home, especially on Halloween.”
“Especially on Halloween,” I agree.
“What’s so special about this holiday?” Paul asks.
“One time a year when the demons get to play, right?” I say.
Reed chuckles. “All the wicked and the witches,” he adds. “Honestly, Halloween was always special for us growing up. I have two younger brothers, an entire family obsessed with horror cult classics—”
“And Tim Burton, as we know about Mads here,” Paul says as his eyes move to me. “Don’t think we didn’t see the Jack and Sally socks when you came in.”
“You should see the artwork on his thigh,” Reed says.
“You have a Jack tat on your leg?” Paul asks.
I huff in amusement. “Something like that,” I reply.
“What’s the story on that?” Paul asks. “Why that movie?”
I wring my hands together and stare at the table, thinking of a reply. “Ah… I mean, Reed and I grew up pretty close. It was a movie his sister put on for their younger siblings around this time of year. I guess… I don’t know. The music was inspiring.”
“It's classic,” Reed agrees.
The DJ’s grin somehow broadens. “You realize you’re going to get a lot of Nightmare memorabilia thrown at the stage this weekend now, right?”
