“Iri somehow got his foot caught in a hole and twisted his ankle pretty badly. I was getting water nearby and his pain called to me. I don’t know what he thought of me when he first laid eyes on me. My hair was down my back and my beard was a matted mess.” He shakes his head and steps out of the shower, grabbing some towels and passing one to me and Cal before getting his own.
“Anyway, I helped him strap his ankle back at my shack and fed him some homemade hooch to help with the pain. He heard me humming to myself and started talking to me about music.
“It had been a long damn time since I’d last spoken to another person, but he could carry the conversation without me. He told me all about the feelings he got when he heard a song he liked, about his mother’s terrible singing.” Micah’s still smiling at the memory as we towel off.
“Anyway, at some point, I started talking back. He stayed with me for hours until he was steady enough on his foot to tackle the walk back.”
“What happened after that?” I ask as Cal comes up behind me and brushes my hair before wrapping me in a robe that’s about five sizes too big. He grunts to himself as he rolls up the sleeves a good half dozen times until they’re not hanging down to my knees.
“Somehow, he persuaded me to come back with him. He put it like I was helping him, that he needed the support to make it back to his car. Anyway, neither of us could drive since I didn’t know how and Iri couldn’t use one leg, so he called his mom to come and pick us up.” He shakes his head. “She’s one scary lady. Wouldn’t take no for an answer when I said I was gonna head back to my shack. So, yeah, that was how I wound up with Iri.” Micah snorts. “It’s also the last time his mom threatened to set him up with anyone.”
I can’t wrap my head around Micah’s story. Of him somehow winding up in this world and surviving alone in the forest for who knows how long.
Micah and Cal both quickly shove on some comfy clothes and lead me through to the living room, where Cal wraps me in a blanket before jumping up to make some hot chocolate. Soon, I’m so wrapped up I can barely move my arms.
“How did you get from there to starting the band?” I ask.
Micah seats me in front of him and pulls me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I didn’t cope too well with being outside the forest. Too many people. It was all too loud, you know? But music was always something that seemed to make sense to me. I started writing songs and Iri had been fucking around, teaching himself to play bass for a couple of years. He suggested we go to some open mic nights. Being on stage was like magic, like everything faded away and I could breathe again. Then we moved on to being session musicians, filling in where other bands needed us.” He leans close until his chin is resting on top of my head and I feel damn cozy and protected. “After a few years like that, we decided to start our own band.”
“And so Orpheus Underground was born?”
He chuckles and the vibrations travel directly through my chest. “Not quite. We took a while to find our rhythm. Tried a bunch of different drummers, even more lead guitarists. We spent about five years trialing different musicians. Then, one day, we were holding auditions and these two young kids came in together.” He presses a kiss just below my ear. “They were so fucking young, but they both seemed mature as hell. I was old as fuck, this ex-feral Nephilim who’d just about taught himself how to speak to others. And Cal was almost as big as he is now. He strode in, barely acknowledged us and smacked the shit out of the drums before striding out again.”
I snort at the image. I can just see it now. A self-possessed teenage Cal doing whatever he pleased and not giving a shit about their reaction or adulation.
“He sure made a strong first impression,” Micah adds.
“And Dorian?” I’m just as eager to hear about their first impressions of him, considering my own were of a spoilt asshole fuckboy.
“Dorian was... defensive. He was nineteen, and he had a shit ton of attitude.”
“He was a little asshole,” Cal says, returning with a tray of hot chocolate and what look like half a dozen pillows tucked under his arms. He places them around me, like he’s forming a protective pillow wall around me. Surveying his handiwork, he tsks and shifts three of the pillows so he can scoot closer to me. Once our thighs are touching, he passes me a mug and wraps his huge hand around my thigh, apparently satisfied.
“Seriously talented, though,” Micah adds.
“Always has been,” Cal says. “Even when we were kids. Other kids would mess around all summer, playing soccer and shit. We’d spend every free moment we had jamming together.”
“What did your parents think when you joined the band? Were they supportive?” I ask him.
Cal nods. “Always.”
“They’re the best, seriously,” Micah adds. “You’ll see when you meet them.”
“Might have to introduce you in doses,” Cal says. “Don’t want them to scare you off.”
My insides melt at the casual way they both talk about introducing me to his family, like it’s already a done deal and like things between us are going to stretch on way beyond us leaving this cabin to go on tour. I take a sip of hot chocolate and sink deeper into Micah’s chest, resting my other hand on Cal’s fingers, which are still wrapped around my thigh.
“Do you think Dorian’s ever going to join us?” I ask, glancing around like he might appear from out of nowhere.
“He’s probably busy kicking his own ass,” Cal grumbles before pressing a kiss to my temple.
“I am fine, you know,” I tell him. “I got wet, but I’m not made of paper. But I didn’t disintegrate.”
Cal grunts and heads for the door. “I’ll go fetch him. Threaten to kick his ass for him if he doesn’t come in here with us.”
I smile and snuggle deeper into Micah’s chest. Having them take care of me like this is a revelation. I’m not going to milk it though... or at least, not too much.
Chapter 25
