There was a pause on Kensie’s end. She may have exaggerated things a little for her parents, but she didn’t want them to think she was ungrateful. “I kind of hate it.” It felt good to finally admit it to her father. Like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
“How long have you felt this way?”
“Umm…three years.”
Another pause, this time on her dad’s end. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“Because I didn’t want you to think I was ungrateful.”
“Kensington, sweetheart, I know you. I would never think that. What’s the name of this company you’re interested in? I’ll make a few calls.”
“I appreciate that, Daddy, I do, but no, thank you. I want to do this on my own. I need to know I got this job on my own merit, not because of whose daughter I am.”
“Kensington?”
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled, nibbling on her lip, as she waited for the lecture about how lucky she is to have a father who could help, but it never came.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of you, kiddo.”
A wave a relief washed through her. She was jumping and squealing all over again. “Thank you, Daddy. I won’t let you down. I promise. Love you.”
“Love you too, baby girl. We’ll see you Sunday.”
Kensie had only been home five minutes when Jam came bursting into her room. “Get dressed,” she demanded, throwing a wad of black fabric onto her lap.
“What’s this?” Kensie asked, inspecting the bundle. Confused, she looked at her friend, then back down to the black crop top with the words Team Lithium etched on the front.
“Check out the back.” Kensie recognized the look on Jam’s face from a mile away. Her lips were contorted into a mischievous grin and her eyes twinkled with sin. It was the same look she’d given her when she convinced her to buy that damned red dress—a look she shot Kensie whenever they were about to get into trouble. On the back, dead center, written in big, bold, block letters, was CT. Kensie chewed on her bottom lip, shaking her head at her friend as she absently traced the letters with her fingers. She couldn’t deny how much she missed him, and she did need to tell him about her interview. “I thought you’d like it.”
“I’m going to have to burn this when I move, you know that, right?”
Jam rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored the mention of her moving. “It’s our new uniform.”
Kensie was so caught off guard by the intrusion she hadn’t realized Jamie was wearing an identical t-shirt to the one in her hands. The only difference was the name on the back.
“Are you wearing Vans?” Kensie wrinkled her nose. “I think you’re taking this grunge thing a little too far.”
“When in Rome.” Jam shrugged. “Anyway, get dressed. I already called the Uber.”
“Uber? Where are we going and why do we need to be dressed like Mary-Kate and Ashley?”
“Just get dressed. I’ll explain in the car.”
“Fine,” she huffed, “I’ll be ready in five.”
Kensie changed into the shirt, skinny jeans, and her white high-top Chuck Taylor All Stars. She studied herself in the mirror for a moment. The girl staring back at her looked the same. She had the same long, brown hair, same slender frame, same deep-set, coffee eyes, but underneath the clothes, she felt different. She felt alive.
“Time’s up, Roth! The car’s here,” Jam yelled from the other room.
“Coming.” Kensie grabbed her phone, credit card, and ID and slid them into her back pocket.
“Let’s go, slow poke, I’m not risking my Uber rating for you.”
“I got ready in five minutes, so screw you and your Uber rating.” Kensie stuck out her tongue. They jogged down the four flights of stairs to meet the waiting car. As the driver pulled into traffic, Jam finally explained where they were headed. “We’re meeting the guys at the Rabbit Hole. They have a show tonight.”
“But it’s only five thirty,” Kensie whined. She did her best to subdue the pang of disappointment swelling in her chest. She was hoping for some alone time with Carter, but now it seemed as if she’d have to ignore the aching between her legs until the end of the night.
“Yes, but they’ve got to set up and do sound check and whatever else happens before a show.”
“So, what’s with the clothes?” Kensie asked, gesturing between them.
“Oh, right. They needed help with the merch table. Javi’s brother normally does it but his kid is sick, so they commissioned us to hawk their stuff.”
Kensie eyed her friend. It was still strange seeing Jamie so…monogamous. The old Jamie was a notorious commitment phobe, but the person sitting next to her was a proper girlfriend. A better one than Kensie, at that. “So, what’s the deal with you and Ryder anyway?”
“The sex is outstanding, and he makes me laugh. Despite my best efforts, he loves me and I am head over heels in love with him.”
“I’m really happy for you, Jam. You deserve it.”
“What about you and CT?”
“It’s just fun. I’m sowing my wild oats or whatever.” Kensie grabbed Jamie’s hand, her gaze focused out the window. Downtown Seattle passed by in a whirl of swirling colors and lights. “I know this is crazy and out of character and fucked up, but I’m not ready to let him go, not yet. It’s selfish, but it’s the truth. I won’t make excuses for my behavior, I just feel like I need to do this.”
“Just be careful, okay? Protect your heart.”
Kensie chuckled at the absurdity. She knew firsthand the hurt that betrayal caused, and if her heart ended up shattered, she’d have no one to blame but herself.
The driver pulled to a stop in front of the bar. It looked different in the daylight, less intimidating. The first time they came here, Kensie had been completely out of her depth and she’d stuck out like a sore thumb. Now, she felt almost as if she belonged.
Javi stood in front of the bar smoking a funny-smelling cigarette. He smiled and waved them over as he flicked the roach onto the ground. “My saviors,” he declared, draping an arm around each of their shoulders.
“How’s it hanging?” Jam asked.
“Low and to the left,” he joked, ushering them into the bar.
The place buzzed with activity as the staff geared up for a busy Friday night. Bartenders sliced lemons and poured buckets of ice into the drink well behind the bar while Tee, the bouncer from before, carried cases of booze up from the basement.
Javi directed the girls to a table set up just to the right side of the stage. Ryder was there, arranging CDs, t-shirts, hats, and stickers, all emblazoned with the band logo.
As they neared, Jam slipped out from under Javi’s arm and jumped on her boyfriend. Ryder brought her legs up around his waist and his mouth found hers instantly. They didn’t speak a word before he turned and carried her off towards the back of the bar.
“Sound check is in thirty minutes, Ry,” Javi called just before they disappeared. He shook his head incredulously, looking towards the stage. “I suppose you’re looking for him?”
Kensie’s gaze shifted from the bassist and up to the stage where Carter stood, staring directly at her, and a slow, sexy grin crept across his face. Kensie’s breath hitched at the sight of him. Goose bumps dotted her flesh, her body reacting to him from a single look. His loose-fitting tank provided her with a full view of the ornate tattoos that covered his arms and chest. His muscular frame oozed sex as he hopped off the stage and jogged over to where she was standing with Javi.
Carter pushed his friend’s arm from around Kensie and pulled her protectively to his side. “You got it bad, bro, worse than Ry.” Javi held his hands up in surrender.
“I’ve already got enough competition for this one.” Carter grinned down at her. She rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the side with as much force as she could muster. “Ouch, what was that for?” he asked, rubbing the spot where she’d hit him.
“For being an asshole. I can’t believe I was act
ually excited to see you,” she teased, pulling away from him. She didn’t get very far before he pulled her back, pressing his lips to hers. His tongue slid in and out of her mouth with long, wet strokes. She didn’t care that they were making out in front of a room full of people. She’d been waiting for this moment for two weeks.
“Sound check is in thirty minutes, bro,” Javi interrupted, prying them apart. “You’ve still got work to do.” He pointed to the stage where Carter’s drum kit lay scattered in a million pieces.
“Fuck,” he whispered against her lips. “I just want to be inside you already.” He kissed her again, then reluctantly tore his mouth from hers. Kensie expected him to get back to work, but he lingered, his hands exploring her body. His fingers slid down her arms, around her thighs, and back to her butt. “Your ass is perfect,” he groaned before continuing his expedition up to her lower back and then around to her stomach. His eyes shone with lust as he tugged the hem of her crop top. “I love seeing you in my shit. It’s such a fucking turn-on.”
Kensie blushed. He was always so possessive, so intense, all-consuming. She wanted him inside of her just as badly as he wanted to be there.
“I should get back,” he mused, tugging on her shirt one last time.
“Oh wait, I almost forgot.” She jumped up and down, excited to share the news with him. He was the reason she took the leap of faith in the first place and she couldn’t wait to tell him.
“What?” he chuckled.
“They called!” she squealed, throwing her hands up. “I’ve got an interview with Safe Haven!”
“I told you they would.” He beamed at her.
“C,” Javi’s voice was a little more forceful this time, “down to twenty-five minutes, man.”
Carter pressed his lips to hers one last time. “Congratulations, Kensington,” he whispered sweetly before flipping off his friend and heading back up to the stage.
Kensie was grinning like an idiot, but she couldn’t help herself. “So,” she said turning to Javi, “what is it exactly that I’m supposed to be doing?”
“Mostly, just sit here and take people’s money. Shirts are twenty, hats are fifteen, CDs are ten, and the stickers are free,” he explained. “They’re kind of like our business card, hand as many out as you can.” Kensie picked up one of the stickers. It was a simple black and white design with the band’s logo. Their website and social media information were written in red along the bottom.
“The shirts are organized by size back here,” he continued, pointing to a smaller table set up behind them. There were also two other boxes under the table that contained extra hats and CDs. “Once they’re gone, they’re gone, but they can check out the website for more gear. The address is on the stickers.”
“Wow, this is pretty legit,” Kensie said, taking a seat behind the table.
“Yeah, it was your boy’s idea,” Javi replied, taking the seat next to her. “Between shows and selling t-shirts and shit on our website, we’re able to work on our music full-time.”
“That’s actually pretty impressive. I had no idea you guys were that successful.”
“Things really started taking off for us last year. That’s when I quit my job. Best day of my fucking life.”
“I bet,” Kensie mused. Hopefully with a little luck and a whole lot of fairy dust she’d soon know the feeling. Kensie looked back to the stage. Carter stood with his back to them, piecing together his instruments. It was finally starting to look more like a drum set and less like a jumbled mess of parts on the stage. She watched, fascinated by the way he moved, the care he took, his attention to detail. He wasn’t the slacker she’d originally mistaken him for. The more she learned about him, the more she wanted to know. He was a mystery. Part of her wanted to keep it that way. It’d be easier when the time came for her to say goodbye.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” Javi stood, greeting an older gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair. He, like everyone else in the bar, was covered in tattoos.
“Looks like you boys upgraded your sales team.” He smiled, nodding at Kensie.
“Oh nah, man, my nephew is sick, so Los stayed home with him. This is Kensie, she’s CT’s girl. Kensie, meet Dave, he owns the place.”
“Hi, nice to meet you. I…uh…Carter and I are just friends so…yeah,” she stammered like an idiot. She silently prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her.
Dave chuckled, “Well either way, welcome to the Rabbit Hole family.”
“Thank you.”
“Carter, huh?” Javi asked as Dave retreated.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” she defended herself. “We are friends.”
“You sure he knows about the whole ‘friends’ thing?”
Kensie glanced over to the stage. A brunette in tiny black spandex shorts and halter top had made her way up to where Carter worked. He was so focused on finishing his drum that he didn’t notice her. Kensie’s heart raced as she watched the woman run her fingers through his hair. He turned and smiled politely, mouthing something that Kensie couldn’t make out. Whatever it was, it caused the woman to throw her head back in laughter. A flirty, obnoxious kind of laugh that Kensie heard loud and clear. “I think he’s got it,” she said bitterly, nodding in their general direction
“Tiff? That’s nothing. She’s not somebody you need to worry about.”
“Who is she to him?” Kensie’s focus stayed glued to the stage. She couldn’t help herself. She was a glutton for punishment. Carter had gone back to building his drum but Tiff remained rooted to her spot.
Javi sighed, “Nobody.”
“For nobody,” she said, meeting his eyes, “she sure seems to touch him a lot.” Javi rubbed his temple. She could practically see his wheels turning as he tried to think of some way to cover for his friend. “The truth, please.”
“She’s a last call.”
“You’re going to have to translate. I don’t speak fuckboy.”
Javi chuckled, shaking his head. “You know, like, it’s the end of the night and there’s no potential…”
“And?” Kensie was only half-listening. Her attention was back on the stage, back on Carter and Tiff. What kind of name is Tiff, anyway?
“So, like… Dios, Kensie, this sounds worse than it is, okay?”
“Just spit it out.” Tiff’s hands were now on Carter’s chest and Kensie’s face probably resembled a strawberry. She felt like a cartoon character whose head was about to pop off at any moment.
“You call a girl like Tiff to come through, no questions asked, no expectations, just sex.”
“So, basically like me?”
“No, not like you. Look, there are groupies and then there are girlfriends. Groupies are for everybody, but girlfriends are off-limits. That’s a groupie,” he explained, pointing to Tiff. “She’s up there practically begging him to fuck her and he’s barely paying her any attention. You’re his girl. He’s obsessed with you. It’s borderline creepy. Honestly, you should probably be worried.”
“Okay, so first, that’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard. Second, I’m not his girlfriend.”
He looked at her as if she was being deliberately obtuse. “Maybe not officially, but you’re nowhere near groupie status. He’s different with you.”
“How?”
“Well for one, he almost ripped my arm off when he saw it wrapped around your shoulder, even though he knows I’d never cross that line.” Kensie stayed silent. Carter being a possessive asshole was nothing new to her. “You know how he spent his morning?” Silence. “He had his sister come over at the ass crack of dawn to teach him how to make breakfast, to teach him how to make you breakfast. That ho…er…that girl or woman…whatever, couldn’t even fucking tell you what our kitchen looks like.”
That should have made her smile. It probably would have had she not looked back to the stage. She would have been elated had she not seen that bitch with her hand down the front of Carter’s pants. Furious didn’t even cover it. This
was the exact reason she and Carter would never work. She had more than enough trust issues to deal with without adding the entire harem of women Lithium Springs had at their beck and call. She walked as fast as her legs would carry her towards the back of the bar.
“Kensie!” Carter yelled from the stage, but she kept going. She needed to find Jam and get the fuck out of there—fast. “Kensington, wait a minute.”
“It’s fine, Carter, you can do whatever you want. I just need some air,” she threw over her shoulder, her tone clipped. She kept moving forward, searching for the back exit.
“That wasn’t what it looked like…I should have shut her down from the beginning. I was just trying to be polite, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer.” Kensie ignored him. She knew the door was just ahead. She just had to keep going. “Kensington.” She kept moving until, finally, she spotted her target. She pushed the door open and let it shut in his face. She didn’t know where she was going, she didn’t have a plan, but she needed a minute to regroup. “Kensie, will you stop and talk to me,” he yelled, pulling her arm.
“I need a fucking minute,” she snapped. She did her best to yank out of his grasp, but his grip was firm. He dragged her to him, her back to his front, and wrapped both his arms around her shoulders.
“No, not until you talk to me. I don’t want this to fuck up our night. Who knows when we’ll get another one.” Kensie didn’t trust herself to speak. She knew her voice would betray her. The silence seemed to drag on. Carter loosened his hold on her just enough to spin her around so that they faced each other. “Come on, Friend, I need to know we’re good.”
“It’s fine, Carter. I’m being irrational. I don’t have the right to be jealous.” She sighed, refusing to meet his gaze.
Carter grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his stormy blue eyes. “You can have whatever you want, Kensington.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’ll give you a minute, if that’s what you really need.”
She nodded and watched as he retreated to the bar. What she needed was to end this madness. She was in way over her head. A relationship with him was never supposed to be an option. It was supposed to be sex. She didn’t think he wanted anything else from her. She could handle it when it was just sex, but this—tonight—was the first time she realized that maybe there could be more and that scared her to death.
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