Revive (A Redemption Novel) Page 4

  “So, you and Taylah, huh?”

  “Me and Taylah?”

  He punches me in the arm. “You were about to fuck her on my kitchen bench.”

  I smirk thinking about it. He’s on the money, if we were alone any longer it probably would’ve happened. She was there. Sexy as hell, and willing. “What does it matter? It’s not like I’m marrying the girl.”

  “Just remember she’s Emerson’s friend,” he says, his voice serious, a complete change from the jokester he was seconds before.

  “And?” We share a brain, I always know what’s coming next, but I’m playing dumb. Purposefully leaving no room for misunderstanding, I want him to spell out whatever his problem is.

  “Have fun but don’t let it get messy.”

  “Messy how?”

  “She’s Emerson’s friend and I don’t want it to be awkward if you fuck her and run.”

  I clench my jaw in frustration, reminiscing about my time away when I didn’t have to explain anything to anyone or worry about anything but myself. Moments like this, I wish I was still there. “While it’s none of your business and hasn’t been for a very long time, have you met Taylah? You think she’s the type to let any guy treat her less than she deserves?”

  “She’d probably cut your dick off.”

  “Exactly. I thank you for your concern, but I’m just going to do us all a favour and not go there. I don’t need to end up in this situation with you.”

  “What situation?”

  “The one where every woman that spends longer than two minutes in my presence is somehow attached to you and your life.”

  “I—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Jagger.” I stand and scan the room, making sure the mess around us is cleared. “Forget I said anything.” With my hands full, I make my way to the door. “Let’s go drink beer.”

  “Drix.”

  “No. Beer. Please.”

  We step outside, one after the other, and the tension follows each of our steps. Emerson and Taylah’s voices become quieter, acknowledging the change between us. The air thickens and I don’t have it in me to make it better and play nice. “I’m just going to chuck all this shit in the bin outside.”

  “Drix,” Jagger calls out after me.

  I flip open the lids of the two bins by the side of the house, separating the shit in my hands between them.

  “Drix,” he repeats, his voice closer.

  “I said drop it, Jagger.”

  “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. It’s your life.”

  Ignoring him, I head back inside. I grab my keys from the coffee table as I hear him call for me again.

  “Hey Sexy, you want to come pick up the pizza with me?” Taylah’s standing there, her hands on her hips, her gaze, all-knowing. The strain between Jagger and I is obvious, and for whatever reason, she’s trying to fix it. “Come on,” she urges. “I didn’t get to show off my singing skills the last time I was in your car.”

  I exhale in defeat. It’s unfair to take it out on her. For the sake of her efforts and not wanting to be the one to fuck up a time where my brother should be happy and proud. I tilt my head to the door, and in complete understanding, she follows.

  I hit the unlock button on my car remote, and we both climb in on either side. Pushing my foot on the brake, I press the keyless ignition and wait for the car to start. From the corner of my eye, I see Taylah fiddling with the car control screen. “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Drive to the pizza store. I got this,” she demands.

  Reversing out of the driveway, I throw a few glances her way as she concentrates intently on whatever it is she’s doing. Soon enough she relaxes into the seat, and Tupac’s “California Love” plays through the car.

  “Is this the right song?”

  She hits pause on her phone. “What? You don’t know girls that like Pac.”

  I open my mouth and close it even quicker. I’m tongue tied, something that seems to happen often around Taylah. I shake my head and try and focus back on the drive.

  Satisfied with my lack of response, she presses play and the well-known music picks back up.

  Words from the first verse fall off her tongue with ease and conviction, like she’s done this a million times. Her upper body starts to move, her movements matching the beat. She’s dancing on the spot, living in this very moment.

  I stop the car at the traffic light, and she twists to face me. She raps the whole second verse, watching me watch her, and never falters. The passenger window begins to slide down, and she starts singing into traffic.

  With her back to me, I smile. Big. Impressed. Relaxed. The knots in my body from earlier begin to loosen, and the whole incident with Jagger is shoved to the back of my mind. The only thing I’m interested in, is what song she’s going to sing and dance to next.

  She’s in her own world, and I’m nothing but a spectator.

  Yep, she’s fucking crazy.

  4

  Hendrix

  As the afternoon turns into the night, Jagger and Emerson’s new place is all complete and ready to be lived in. With all their furniture set up, their kitchen unpacked and everything that makes a house a home in place, the next phase of my brother’s life is ready for the taking.

  When Taylah and I returned with food and beer, the fight between Jagger and I dissipated. Both having time to cool off, the rest of the evening went off without a hitch. Having indulged in dinner, Em and Jagger now sit on the couch, their bodies draped against one another, while Taylah and I sit in separate recliners, facing one another. With the perfect view in front of me, I have been watching her every move; the more the buzz of the beer settles throughout my body, the more obvious I become.

  “Oh my God,” she groans after looking at her phone. “Is that the time? I’m going to have to call it a night.”

  “I’ll drive you home,” I offer.

  “There’s no way you’re driving her home,” Emerson cautions. “Do you know how much we’ve all drank?”

  “Fine, we can catch an Uber together.” Right now, subtlety isn’t my strong suit, and I’m too mesmerised by her to want tonight to end.

  “Why don’t you guys just stay here,” Jagger suggests. “One of you can have Dakota’s bed, and the other can sleep here on the couch.”

  “It’s Sunday tomorrow,” Emerson pipes in, looking at Taylah. “It’s not like you have anything to rush off to.”

  “I have breakfast with my mother.”

  “Which you hate.”

  “Shut up, and stop being so practical.”

  Em claps her hands together and stands up enthusiastically. “It’s settled then. You two figure out which of you is sleeping where, and I’ll get blankets.”

  The living room empties out, Jagger following Em on her quest to make everyone comfortable. As quick as they disappear, Jagger returns with a pillow and some blankets, throwing them all on my lap. “I’ll see you two in the morning.”

  “Thanks,” I call out.

  “Goodnight,” Taylah adds on.

  A quick wave over his head and he’s gone to bed, leaving us alone for the third time today.

  “I’m going to sleep out here and you can take the room.”

  “Sounds good.” She untangles herself and rises from the chair. Off balance, she falls, landing straight back in the chair. “Shit.”

  In less than two steps, I’m crouching beside her, my hand on her knee. “Whoa there, Crazy. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” Her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “It’s been a long day, and alcohol and numb legs aren’t a good combination.”

  “Here, let me walk you to the room.”

  “No. No,” she insists, shaking her head. “I’m fine. Honestly.” She places her hand on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Thank you, though.” We stare at each other for two seconds too long, the alcohol-fuelled daze written on both our faces. I contemplate kissing her, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to kiss me back
. But the way I’m feeling right now, it wouldn’t be enough. She’s a woman every man wants wrapped around his dick, but I’m not fucking her in my niece’s bed and under my brother’s roof.

  Softly, she brings her lips to my cheek. “Night, Sexy.”

  Stuck between stop and go, I watch her sway her ass into the bedroom. At the sound of the door closing, I hang my head and let out the breath I’ve been holding onto since the moment I thought about kissing her.

  Unfolding the blankets, I lay them across the couch and put the pillow in place. Shucking off my jeans, I hang them over the arm of the chair and climb under the covers. With my arms behind my head, I stare at the ceiling, my mind replaying the day.

  A habit I developed after Jagger went to prison, I reminisce on everything. When Dakota got hurt, I spent days and nights agonising over every conversation I had with Jagger and Sasha. Thinking about how I missed what and who he was involved with? I have always believed that if I wasn’t so absorbed in my own feelings about the Jagger and Sasha mess I would have saved my family. Objectively I know my brother would have always done what he saw fit, but it doesn’t mean that guilt doesn’t sit deep in my chest, rising to the surface, teasing me of a life that could’ve been.

  A door creaks open from behind me, the position of the couch makes me unable to see who it is until they walk past me. Long, toned, naked legs pass my head, and I have to stifle the groan that wants to leave my mouth. With no care in the world, she heads to the kitchen wearing nothing but her underwear and loose tank. Wearing lace, maroon underwear that cut across the middle of her arse cheeks, my eyes zoom in on the slight jiggle that happens with every step. She disappears into the kitchen, the sound of running water the only indication someone else is awake.

  Her silhouette comes back into view, the lights that line the street breaking through the blinds, illuminating parts of her body. “No pants.”

  “Shit.” She startles, her eyes finding me. “Give a girl a warning before you scare the hell out of her.”

  “Sorry,” I say unapologetically. “Are you okay?” I ask her, brazenly eyeing her smooth skin.

  “I needed water.”

  “And the uh...?” I flick my gaze up and down, from her head to her toes, wordlessly asking the question.

  “I don’t know about you, but I don’t sleep with jeans.”

  “What if Jagger was out here?” I challenge.

  “I thought about it, but he’s too busy fucking Emerson into the headboard right now. I figured the coast was clear.”

  “And me?” I can’t pinpoint the need to constantly argue with her, but there’s something about her that has me desperate to hear the sharpness of her tongue. Her no bullshit, full of confidence, sassy as fuck mouth.

  “You don’t seem to mind.” She steps closer, her eyes glancing over to my jeans. “How about we pick up where we left off this afternoon.” She takes hold of the edge of the blanket. “I can pull this off and we’ll be matching.”

  I take hold of her wrist and pull her toward me until her face is only a breath away from mine. “You can tease all you want, Crazy, but we all know you can only poke the bear so much before he bites.”

  “Is that a promise or a threat?”

  “I’m just saying, there’s only so many times a grown man can say no.”

  “And there’s only so many times a girl can handle rejection.”

  “You think I’m rejecting you?” I question, amazed she would think anyone would turn her away.

  “I think you’re overthinking this whole thing.”

  “Overthinking, yes. Rejecting you, no. And that’s all on me.” I lower my head and watch my fingertips trace patterns on the length of her thighs, goosebumps following my slow and deliberate movements. “But so you know, if we were anywhere else right now, I would’ve pushed you, me, and your barely covered ass back in that room.”

  “I guess knowing that will have to do then.” Her forefinger and thumb take hold of my chin, as she tips my head up, our eyes now locked with nowhere else to go. She leans in and kisses the corner of my mouth. “Night Drix.”

  I watch her walk away, and into the room, my body missing her immediately. “Night Taylah.”

  Clumsy and deliberate noises come from the kitchen, stirring me in my sleep. A slow and steady hissing noise joins in, and the loud whistle of the kettle ensures there’s no chance of me sleeping any longer. With each waking moment, I try to stretch the stiffness out of my body. Even though I’m grateful for my brother’s hospitality, there’s no way my body can do this again. Reaching over, I grab my phone to check the time. Nine am. Planning out the rest of my day in my head; a long, hot shower and a midday nap in my own comfortable bed are definitely on the cards.

  “Drix, you want breakfast?” Jagger’s voice travels, revealing he’s the one causing a ruckus in the kitchen.

  “Good morning to you too. How did you know I was awake?”

  “I didn’t. I just didn’t care if you were asleep.” He comes into view, skillet in hand, plating the scrambled eggs he’s just cooked. “Are you having breakfast here?”

  “I can’t work out if you’re kicking me out or asking me to stay?”

  “Both. Dakota is getting dropped off here in two minutes to spend the day. Decide what you want to do.” Ever since Jagger and Emerson explained one of the main reasons they moved out of my place, he and I have been in a better place. Our relationship is no longer muddied by the history Sasha and I share, honesty working better, the easy navigation allowing us to put our own personal needs first.

  “I think I’ll leave, I need to get home anyway, and Dakota and I have plans to meet this week after school anyway.”

  “You think she’ll like the set up here?” he asks, insecurity and worry lining his voice. “I really want her to be as comfortable here as she was at your place.”

  Getting up, I grab my jeans from the chair and slide in one leg at a time. I put my phone, wallet, and gum back in my pockets. While buckling up the belt, I walk up to the kitchen bench, close enough to see Jagger perfect Dakota’s breakfast surprise. “Come on man, we both know Dakota is going to love coming here. She loves anywhere you are, you know that.” I swipe off a piece of bacon off the plate.

  “Fuck off, I already offered you some.” He moves the food out of my reach and heads to the oven. He fiddles with the temperature and puts the foil tray in, keeping the already cooked portion of breakfast warm.

  “Seriously bro, that room, and letting her create her own space here…I’ll be surprised if you can wipe the smile off her face.”

  He hands me a glass of orange juice. “Drink this and get the hell out of my house.”

  “With pleasure.” I throw the cool liquid down and hand him back the empty glass. “Let me know how today goes, I’ll talk to you sometime during the week, yeah?”

  “I’ll be down at your office on Wednesday, I’m popping in to see some of the boys.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” As I head to the front door, Taylah steps out of Dakota’s room, fully dressed. Her bag hangs across her body, the strap falling deliciously between her tits, while her arms are held above her head, as she attempts to tame her wild hair into something more manageable. I dip my head in her direction. “Morning.”

  “Morning,” she mutters.

  “You’re awfully cheery this morning,” I joke.

  “I need at least two cups of coffee running in my veins before I’m ready for human interaction.”

  “Well, I’m heading home now, and with how much Jagger loves to talk, I think you’re safe.”

  A gust of wind flies through the house as the front door opens suddenly, Dakota and Sasha bickering in the doorway.

  “Dakota, I don’t care whose house it is, you knock on the door.” All eyes are on them, as they continue to argue, unaware they have an audience.

  “I don’t have to knock at home,” Dakota argues.

  “Because there’s no chance you’re going to walk in on me with somebo
dy else at home.”

  “She’s right you know, nobody wants to be subjected to what I heard last night.” Taylah’s interruption has Jagger holding back a smile, and Sasha scrunching her head in feigned disgust at Taylah standing before her. “Taylah. Hi. I didn’t know you would be here.” Her eyes flick between us, and she serves me a forced smile. “Hendrix.”

  “Sasha,” I respond politely. Unknowingly we’ve all stepped back into the house, easing Sasha and Dakota away from the doorway and into the living room.

  “Hey, T,” Dakota calls out. Like old friends her and Taylah give one another a high five, reminding me that this isn’t the first time everyone has met. “Where’s Emerson?” She continues to walk farther in, stopping and rising on her toes to kiss me on the cheek.

  “Hey kid,” I greet, lowering my head, making it easier for her to reach me. With a spring in her step, she leaves the awkwardness behind, walking straight to Jagger and hugging him hello.

  “Oh, everyone’s here.” Emerson’s presence breaks the ice, as her eyes skate over everyone deciphering each person’s mood. There’s a suffocating silence that follows as we all stand in a self-imposed freeze frame waiting for what’s next.

  “Okay guys, breakfast is almost ready, who’s staying?” Jagger’s voice cuts through the tension and has everybody moving into next gear. Taylah speaks first. “I thank you all for your hospitality, but I need to get an Uber on the ASAP before my mum makes it to my place first and starts going through my things.”

  “My mum does that too.” Dakota rolls her eyes, and a genuine smile spreads across Sasha’s face. I let myself watch her in this unguarded moment, trying to remember the last time I saw her look so relaxed in my presence.

  “It was great seeing you both, again.” She fiddles around with her phone, organising a ride. It’s on the tip of my tongue to offer her a ride home, but the words never form. “Okay, I’m going to get out of everyone’s hair, and wait outside.”

  “Taylah, you know I’ll drive you home. Cancel it,” Emerson orders. Jagger looks at me, his stare telling me what I know I should do, but for some reason don’t.