Chapter 22

After Ronin told me all about the call with his mom, and Bibi coming over to stay with Ciara, we headed out to the recording studio with Lennie.

Our phones blew up with messages from other friends, musicians and the like that had heard about what had happened, offering their support. It meant a lot.

It was overwhelming, but in a good way.

Just like when Ronin took hold of my hand as we left the house. And he hadn”t let go of it since. Not when our bodyguards stared at us, and not during the entire car ride to the studio. I don”t know if we were followed by the paps. I”m sure we were, but I didn”t care to know. I was so overloaded at this point that pounding out a whole bunch of songs on my drum kit was just what I needed. No matter what, I could always count on sessions to help me figure shit out.

Jesse was already at the studio and greeted us at the front door. When he saw my hand in Ro’s, he paused and gave us a quick grin. But his eyes told a different story. And for a moment, I felt guilty. I couldn”t imagine how devastated I’d be if I’d told Ronan how I felt and he didn”t feel the same. I totally got why Jesse”s band had broken up. If I had to work day in and day out with the man I was in love with, but could never have, I wasn”t sure I could make it either.

Jesse motioned for us to come inside. And wow, the new recording studio was even bigger and brighter than our old one. All our instruments were already in place, ready to go. Everything was organized in such a manner that it hardly needed fine tuning at all. And given that Jesse was a musician too, it made sense.

“I’m gonna do some work and sit with Ace. Let me know if you guys need anything.”

We thanked him and headed into the recording booth.

Brodie and Holls were already seated, strumming their guitars to a new tune. When they spotted us, they smiled and waved us over. Ronin still hadn’t let go of my hand and it made me giddy.

“Well, well, if it isn”t the Wayward Lane love birds,” Brodie quipped.

“Shut up and play,” I grumbled, suddenly self-conscious.

Until Ronin brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it, then led me over to my drum kit. Only then, when I was seated, did he let go of me. Even still, when he wandered over to pick up his bass, the look he gave me told me that as soon as we were done here, we were heading home.

To his bedroom. Wait, ours now.

And that bed? We were gonna wreck it. Hard. So much for going slow…

“Given that you and Ronin are fucking now, I figured you’d be in a much better mood. Bored already?” Holloway teased.

I rolled my eyes. “Not all of us need to kiss and tell.”

“Oh, but you do need to tell,” Brodie chuckled. “We gave you all the deets when we got sexy with our men. Now it”s your turn.”

“There”s nothing to tell. Yet,” Ronin declared. “Except hot as fuck handjobs in the shower.”

“Ro!” I bit out, feeling hot all over.

I was barely able to comprehend coming all over my best friend, never mind telling other people about it.

“Since when are you shy when it comes to bragging about sex?” Holls snickered and pointed at me. “This from the guy who fucked twins while we watched.”

“Okay, all right,” I conceded. “But that was different. That was hook ups. This is?—”

I looked at Ronin for help. What we had together was more than fucking. And I didn’t want to share that with anyone. Not even Brodie and Holls.

“Say no more,” Brodie relented, and his expression turned serious. “I’m happy for you guys. Don’t fuck this up.”

“We won’t.”

I hoped. I was worried I would fuck up for sure. Ever since rehab, I felt the weight of other people’s expectations, or rather, my interpretation of them. I didn’t want to screw up my life again. My relationship with Ronin least of all.

“It’s all well in hand,” Ronin replied with a sinful smile.

I squirmed on my stool, willing myself not to get aroused right now in front of the guys.

“Sounds like,” Holls replied with a cheeky grin and then shook his had. “Okay, no more joking around. Now that I’ve finally finished working on ‘Running Start’, let’s see how it sounds.”

I glanced at the sheet music and read it through to the end. We pulled on our headphones and started to play.

Holls did the intro with a guitar solo, Ronin and Brodie joining in, then finally, me. Unlike our rock anthems, which were heavy on drums, this one was slower, softer.

I let myself get carried away by the music, listening to Brodie and Holls sing about running away from their feelings. Holls had written the song about his boyfriend, Dawson, but I felt myself and Ronin in every note. This song was going to be a hit with our fans. I could picture the crowd singing along with us.

As someone who once believed that I’d never fall in love, if I could relate to it, chances are the fans would too. I wasn”t big on rock ballads in general. I preferred our high intensity, hard rock songs. But something about this one, at this time, got to me.

Finally admitting to Ronan how I felt about him, there was no way I could put my emotions back in that bottle again.

Then I remembered Ronin’s poetry. Had he written about me? I was feeling pretty inspired myself, even though I’d never tried my hand at songwriting. I was an intuitive musician, not a writer. And, to my mind, I was the least talented musician among us. But days like today, when we got in our groove, when our harmony hit just right, even I could admit that I had a talent that I hadn”t fully appreciated or accepted.

Drummers always sit at the back of the stage, in our own world. There’s a synergy that singers and guitar players have with their fans that drummers don’t. We can’t touch the audience like the rest of the band. That”s not to say that we’re not appreciated or important. It’s just a different thing.

On tour, between sets, I’d bang out a drum solo for the crowd. Those were the times when my nerves hit. Because it was just me. No voices, no guitars, nothing but my sticks and my dreams. Fans loved it, and it gave me a chance to make that connection with the crowd. One that was important. Without a human touch, music is just waves of atoms. It has no meaning and no energy.

Just like my life without Ronin. No energy, no color, no life.

We got to the end of the song, but I was so caught up in staring at Ronin singing—to me, with me—that I forgot there were other people watching us.

Until Jesse knocked on the glass partition. He held up his hand, stopping us. Then he opened the door, and we slipped off our headphones.

“Sounds great, but Faise, your voice is too soft. You need to focus on your diaphragm. We want to bring up the vibration level.”

I nodded. Singing was not my strong suit either. Some drummers were good at both, a few were great, but me, not so much. And being distracted by Ronin wasn’t helping matters.

“Okay, let’s try it again,” I said.

This time, I closed my eyes, shutting off everything outside of my own voice, the words rolling out of me. In that moment, there was no frustration, no uncertainty. Just the heady feelings that were tumbling around inside me like a tornado picking up speed.

Jesse was right. When we hit the chorus this time, shit, the four of us were magic. I got the same feeling that I did when I was on stage, chills running through my body, the incredible rightness of the moment giving me a high that nothing, no drug could ever give me. It was difficult to explain, but when you felt it, you knew.

When we reached the end of the song, I opened my eyes to find the guys staring at me with shocked expressions.

“What?” I asked, removing my headphones. “Not good?”

“Not good? Shit, Faise, you’ve been holding back on us,” Brodie stated.

I waved him off, but he shook his head.

“I’m serious! Holy fuck. Holls? Ro?”

“I heard it too.” Holls nodded and smiled at me.

Ronin got up, bass still in hand, and walked around my kit. He leaned down and kissed me, teasing me with his tongue.

“Why have you been hiding all this time?” he whispered to me.

“What?” I looked up at him, smiling against his lips. “I’ve always been right here in front of you.”

“No. Not like this. You’re so fucking incredible when you let go. When you believe in yourself. I can’t even?—”

Ronin stopped talking and took my lips again, the kiss deeper, longer. I was drunk on him.

“Uh, guys,” Holloway interrupted.

Ronin leaned back and turned to him. “Now we”re ready to play.”

I wasn’t. I had a boner that wouldn’t calm and a heart that was close to bursting wide open at any moment. This was going to be our fastest recording session in history because Ronin and I needed to be alone.

“Jesus, it’s fucking hot in here.” Brodie pulled at his t-shirt and gave us his usual smirk. “All right, let’s do two more songs. Then, I need to go home to my husband.”

“Fucking right,” Holls agreed and fanned himself.

Amen to that.