Page 37 of Flames and Flowers
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Early in the New Year, Ash announced that we needed a bigger place for the three of us, and he was right. We decided to get it settled before we left on tour.
We decided to give up my apartment, rent out the condo, and move into their house on Isabella Island. It was way more private there, anyway, the perfect place to disappear together when we weren’t on the road.
By the time we played our first live Players show in February, opening for Dirty at a small, local concert, we’d done all of the above but not yet told anyone, officially. Dylan and Amber knew; they lived right next door to us on the island. But we still had to tell our band.
Honestly, they probably knew, too.
Xander knew what he saw at the album release party, though he hadn’t asked me or Ash a single question about it after the fact. Courteney didn’t ask Danica about it either, so either Xander was so deeply committed to avoiding drama in the band that he’d kept his mouth shut, or he’d told her and they were both sitting on it. Same with Summer; Ronan either didn’t tell her what he saw that night, or more likely, she’d swallowed it, trusting us to talk about it when we were ready.
I could see it in their eyes when we were in rehearsals or meetings, or just drinking at a party. The loaded looks. The questions. The curiosity they were all tamping down.
Maybe Brody had advised them to tamp it down.
It was almost amusing, wondering which one of them was gonna blow first. Ash even made a bet with me about it. He figured it would be Summer. I suspected it would be Courteney.
But still, no one said a thing. They were trying so hard to be patient with us.
Because they respected us.
They loved us, too.
We knew we’d have to sit them all down, the whole Players family, and come clean before the tour. And make it clear to everyone we weren’t asking for their blessing, that there was no question mark on this. Our relationship wasn’t up for discussion or a vote. We were already together. And now, we were giving our relationship a chance to grow.
We didn’t need any drama in the band about it.
While our friends and our bandmates may never understand what we had together, they didn’t have to. They just had to support us and continue to love us as we were, if they were going to be part of our lives.
We were part of one another’s now, inextricably.
We’d made heartfelt promises to one another, over and over again. We’d whispered it to each other in the night, kissed it onto one another’s flesh. Had long, soul baring conversations about it for hours on end.
We were finallyus.
We’d even gotten tattooed again, together.
We did it in March, exactly one year after Danica got herAshleytattoo and he and I got ourDirtytattoos. So nowAshleyandDanicawere on my skin, just as permanently as they were in my heart; I’d had their names tattooed on my ribs.
Ash already had a tattoo for Danica, so he got one that saidMattyabove his heart.
Danica already had a tattoo for Ash above her heart, so she got one on the back of her neck that saidMatthew. She was the only person for miles around who ever called me Matthew, other than maybe my accountant. My parents used to call me Matthew so it wasn’t really my favorite, historically. But Danica had this adorable way of rolling her eyes and saying, “Oh, Matthew,” when I’d done something ridiculous.
Interestingly enough, she also rolled her eyes in an altogether different way and saidOh, Matthewwhen we were in bed together. Usually when my tongue was up her pussy.
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The day after we got our tattoos, Ash and Danica woke me up in the morning. They were laughing and seemed to be arguing. They piled on top of me, way too excited about something.
Maybe because today wasthe day.
We were telling the band about us.
We were finally going public, and then we were going on tour. We were leaving at the end of the week.
“Come on, he deserves it,” Danica kept saying.
I mumbled something unintelligible along the lines ofFuck me or let me keep sleeping.
