If Will starts to do that with Kitt, I'll throw him off the bus.
"Suit yourself, but one day, you're gonna get old, and it'll fall off. Or worse, you'll get a girlfriend, and you'll wish you'd screwed around more." Coop picks up his beer and takes a long swig.
"Oh, Jesus, you're going to be one of those sad, dirty old men, screwing your way through the local university in your sixties, aren't you?" I say.
"Texas," Dad scolds.
I roll my eyes.
"Damn right I am!" Coop replies.
Lovely.
"Come on, we all know Coop's future after the band," Kitt says.
Yeah, we do. He'll be exactly what I said, and he'll love every second of it.
"I can't wait," Cooper says, grinning all crazy-like.
I turn away, wishing there were at least one girl with me at this moment. Being around so much testosterone is sometimes like bashing my head against a wall, especially when the younger ones are all about women and not a lot else.
"Are you okay, Texas?" Dad asks. "You've gone quiet. It's unlike you."
"Oh, ha-ha. I'm fine. The guys are grossing me out--as usual."
"Am I doing the right thing, bringing you?"
"And the award for the dumbest question goes to..."
"I'm serious, Texas."
"So am I! I love it here, and you know it. The last place on earth I want to be stuck is at Jennifer's, so stop stressing. Sometimes, I just need a little break from the who's-sleeping-with-how-many talk."
Dad laughs. "We all need a break from Milo and Cooper from time to time."
"Kitt, too. And Jimmy. Actually, you're all pretty gross. Except you. You gave all that up when you impregnated Jennifer."
Milo laughs. "Right, so that woman leaving your hotel room before Christmas was a figment of my imagination, was she?"
Ew. No. I turn my nose up and hold my iffy belly. I so don't want to think about my dad with a woman, or I'll puke.
"Let's please not talk about it. Also, Dad, remember to be careful."
Dad shakes his head, discouraged, but he really has no room at all to say anything. We don't want another mistake landing on his doorstep.
"She was a hottie, too, Mark. High five," Milo says, holding his hand up.
Dad reaches out and high-fives him, and I've suddenly changed my mind about being here.
"Old man's still got it," Kitt adds for my benefit.
I glare at him. Arsehole.
"Yeah, I'll be in my room," I say, leaving them to it.
Of course I know my dad has sex, but I don't ever need to hear it. As long as he wraps it up and keeps them away from me, we're cool. Not that he would ever parade his conquests in front of me. I've only met one woman in my whole nineteen years, and that was by accident.
"Oh, Texy, come back," Cooper says.
"Not a chance in hell!" I shout back, rushing up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
That's not a conversation I'd ever hang around for. I would rather drink acid.
My room is tiny. It just fits a single bed, small wardrobe, and minuscule dressing table. But it's mine, and it's somewhere I can escape to when needed. This is absolutely one of those times. I grab my bag and pull out my iPad. We have Wi-Fi on the bus, but it's temperamental. I hope it's good enough for me to get through a couple of episodes of The Walking Dead on Netflix because I need a distraction.
Plus, I can pretend the zombies are the idiots out there, drinking and talking about my father having sex.
KITT
TUESDAY, MAY 5
DOVER, ENGLAND
We've just entered Dover, and we will soon be at the port.
The fucking bets have started to come in. So far, the first one to catch an object--preferably underwear--will get a grand from the others, and the first one to puke from drinking has to do the windmill at an after-party.
I guarantee both will be Coop.
We're sitting around the table on the lower deck, drinking yet more beer. I was buzzing before the beer, and now, I'm half-cut. It's stupidly early-- 4:03 a.m.--but I'm not at all tired. No one besides the second driver has been to sleep yet, so it's only a matter of time before we crash hard.
Right now, we're hyped up on pre-tour excitement and booze.
Coop punches his arm in the air. "Right. Three grand to the first person to do two in one night."
Obviously, he's referring to having sex with women. It's a game we've played since the start. None of us have any trouble getting laid, but since the band formed, it's been ridiculous. And I mean that in a good way. No matter when I want sex, someone is always more than willing to give me what I need.
I'm living the fucking dream.
"Why three grand?" I ask.
We usually stick to an even thousand.
"Does it fucking matter? You're too much of a pussy to join in."
Lying back against the seat, I give him the middle finger. "I don't want to embarrass you."
Coop's pale eyes darken, and he barks out, "Fuck that! You're in. We'll see who pisses over who."
"You're all disgusting," Texas says before taking a sip of my beer while Mark's in the bathroom.
At nineteen, Tex has been legal to drink for over a year, but Mark seems to get stricter with her, the older she gets. And that has everything to do with the fact that she's now the same age Jennifer was when they had her. And Tex is touring with three guys around the age Mark was when he knocked Jennifer up.
"Help yourself " I mutter, taking the bottle out of her hand.
"You want in on the bet, too, Tex?" Cooper asks.
Fire courses through my veins. I want to bash his face against the table. Tex isn't that kind of girl, and she isn't someone we can mess around with. I feel this primal protectiveness when it comes to her. We owe Mark, and she's the most precious thing in his life.
And you think she's amazing. And since Christmas, you've been constantly hard around her.
"Watch it," Milo says, beating me to the punch.
Coop rolls his eyes, and the corner of his mouth turns into a cocky smirk. "She knows I'm kidding. You're still a virgin, right, Tex?"
Her eyes widen, and she looks to me and Milo for help. She turns her nose up. "Awesome. We're discussing this."
That isn't an admission or a denial. I want to know even though it shouldn't matter to me.
It doesn't matter to you.
Yes, it does. She had a boyfriend for almost a year, so she's probably not still a virgin. Until I know otherwise, I like to think no one's been there.
You want to be there.
"If you want to rectify that problem, we can go to my room," Coop says, wiggling his eyebrows.
This time, Milo doesn't beat me to it. I swing my arm and crack him around the back of his skull.
Fucking idiot.
Texas smiles at Cooper, smug to have me and Milo defending her against him. Deep down, I know Coop would never touch her. None of us would.
Except for me. I've already crossed that line. Actually, I jumped over it, feetfirst.
Now, I can't forget how she tasted, how soft she felt, and the way she reacted to my every touch. I can't stop myself from wanting to do more, to go further and bury myself deep inside her.
Fuck. I'm getting hard.
I sit forward and try to focus on something else.
Mark walks back into the room, and Coop's expression changes instantly. Gone is the hunger to wind her up because he knows he'll be beheaded by her dad. Mark is overprotective of Tex. I get it, and I'd be the same, but sometimes, I look at her, and I can see a strong woman fighting to get out and find her own way.
"Daddy got your tongue?" Milo teases, jabbing Coop in the ribs.
"Fuck off. Are we on for this bet or what? I understand if not. We know I'll win."
Coop is competitive and hates it when he loses. His parents spoiled him, growing up. His Christmas photos look like they were taken in Toys "R" Us. They let him win every game, and now, he has to face off
with me and Milo, people who won't let him win. It makes him hotheaded, which is always amusing.
"Not this again," Mark says, laughing and shaking his head.
Mark and Jimmy never join in, but Will does, sometimes beating his nephew's score, too. The man is an absolute legend, and I have a feeling that one or more of us will end up just like him. Cooper, for sure. Milo doesn't have any aversions to settling down. He just knows he doesn't want to do it while he's young and getting laid multiple times a day by multiple women. He left his high school girlfriend of three years when we started to get big. He's really not an arsehole. They'd both known their relationship was changing, and they had been growing apart. Sometimes, I think he believes he made a mistake, like when I catch him looking at a picture of Lexi, but he's adamant he did the best thing for them both.
"I'm betting on Milo," Texas says. "Dad, you have any money on you?"
We all laugh. Milo grins proudly.
Mark stares at her, dumbfounded. "No, Texas. You're not betting on this shit!"
"And, Tex, really? Don't you already have all the money?" I tease.
Mark is worth billions, and Jennifer is, too. As their only heir, Texas stands to be one of the wealthiest people in the UK.
She narrows those pretty hazel eyes and pouts. Her lips are full, pink, and I'm desperate to see them spread around my cock.
Don't think of that.
"You would think so, but someone doesn't want me to be spoiled." She gives her dad a pointed look.
"How ridiculous," Milo says with exaggerated surprise.
"It is. Like I'm going to be a total bitch whore from hell just because I have access to more money."
"It'll ruin you," Coop says.
She laughs. "It'd ruin you."
Cooper grins like a Cheshire Cat on coke. "Oh, I'd hope so."
I turn away from the idiots I consider family and look out the window. The sun is starting to break the darkness, but it's still hard to see much of anything. Here, I feel content. I love being on tour. The open road is filled with possibility and adventure.
Growing up, I never really went anywhere. After the deaths of my parents when I was a baby, I was raised by my nan and grandad. They're incredible people, and I owe them everything. Because money was tight, we didn't get to travel. They're both my biggest fans, and nothing makes me happier than when they're watching me at a concert. They will be at every one in England when we eventually get back.
"Kitt, you fucking listening, man?" Milo says.
I turn back and shrug just as Mark sits down, making Texas have to scoot closer to me. Her arm touches mine, and the effect it has on me is like she's just palmed my dick through my jeans.
"What?" I say.
"The bet. Are you in?" Coop asks.
"No, thanks."
Coop scoffs. "So, it's just me, Milo, and Will? That's hardly a contest."
"Screw you," Milo says.
It's a good thing Mark doesn't get pissy at bad language around Texas, or he'd be spending all his time chastising us. There are a few banned words--one, in particular, beginning with a C--that only gets brought out when we're in male-only company.
"Do you really think you'd win?" Texas asks when everyone else is busy arguing among themselves. She tilts her head, eyeing me with suspicion.
I cock my eyebrow. What a stupid question. "I know I'd win. Fortunately for them, I'm in this more for the music than the women."
It's the truth, too. I love women, don't get me wrong, but music was my first love, and it's all I've ever wanted to do. Women are just an added bonus. A very happy bonus.
She purses her lips. "They love the music, too. That's their main motivation."
I nod. "I know. But I'd rather work on the next song the morning after, and the boys would rather go again."
She narrows her eyes. "Nice. And you regularly have another go the next morning." Her face pales. "I've heard."
"I'm not a monk, Texas." With a smirk, I add, "Besides, it'd be selfish to keep a body like this to myself."
"Oh, so by having random, meaningless sex, you're pretty much providing a public service."
"Exactly. But one for beautiful women."
"You only hit on the beautiful ones?"
"Who doesn't? If you're looking for a one-night stand, you look for someone you're attracted to."
"Oh...so you've never hit on me because you think I'm ugly?"
Silence.
The whole fucking bus is now silent and watching. Even Mark is amused as he looks on at me while I'm digging my own grave. Saying Texas is ugly is like saying I'm bad in bed. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I'm killer between the sheets.
"Not at all. The reason you've not been in my bed is because your dad would kill me."
"Correct," Mark says.
Texas scoffs. "Cocky much? The reason I've not been in your bed is because you're not my type."
I laugh, loving the banter between us. "Texas, baby, don't tell lies and embarrass yourself." I wink and flash her a smile that makes her try to kill me with one look. "Not your type," I mutter, shaking my head.
"Is it really so hard to believe that someone doesn't want to get in your pants?"
No, of course it isn't, but this is fun. When we're messing around like this, I feel a sense of peace I've never experienced before.
"Yes," I reply.
She scoffs. "You're a pig, Kitt."
"Texy, Texy, Texy, just admit, I'm your type, and we can move on."
She shoots daggers at me from her eyes. "I will as soon as you do."
"Fine. I'm totally my type."
Tex stares on at me with a blank expression.
"Oh, come on! Tex, you're everyone's type."
"See?" she says, throwing her hands up. "That wasn't so hard to admit, was it?"
"And you think I'm cocky..."
"Everyone thinks you're cocky."
I shrug. "Doesn't bother me."
"Helps, I suppose."
"With?"
"Being a rock star," she says, like it's the most obvious thing on the planet. "Anyway, how come you're really not taking Coop's bet?"
I lower my voice and say, "Honest answer, or cocky answer?"
"Know your audience, Kitt."
"Fine," I reply, smiling. "I kind of feel like...I'm not sure of the right word. Sleeping with women for a bet is..."
"Dickheadish," Texas offers.
"Yeah, I guess that's a good word for it. Just doesn't sit right with me anymore. If I'm sleeping with someone, it's because I want or need to get laid, not just because I want to have more than Cooper."
"Wow, you just went up in my estimation."
"Thanks. That doesn't mean I don't sleep with more women than him though."
"And back down you go again," she mutters sarcastically. "I should just be a lesbian. Men are horrible."
"But you don't like women."
Tex has one female friend, and that's it. Peyton is cool though, not like many of the materialistic girls Tex grew up with.
"Ugh, no, I don't. I can't deal with women-hating-on-women shit and who's skinnier or prettier. Maybe I'll just get cats."
"You're allergic to the fur."
"God, Kitt, can't you let me have anything?"
I grin. "I'll let you have something."
"Nice."
"Jager bombs!" Milo shouts, interrupting everyone.
Texas slumps back in her seat, knowing she'll be allowed one shot--and that's only if she bats her eyelashes at her dad for long enough.
Last year, after performances and events, Mark started letting Tex stay out at after-parties with us because she'd turned eighteen. I saw a whole new side of her then. It's what started my downward spiral, which ended with me kissing her like I was dying while dry-fucking her against her bedroom door.
"Daddy," she says, going straight in with the puppy-dog eyes and everything.
"Oh, I don't think so, pumpkin."
Their argument goes on for tw
o rounds until he finally gives in, and she joins us for a few shots.
I wouldn't be able to say no to her either.
And I have a feeling that's going to screw me over.
TEXAS
WEDNESDAY, MAY 6
CALAIS, FRANCE
I wake up after napping for about three hours, and we're in Calais. We still have a little over four hours until we arrive in Paris, but I'm happy to be here. It's early--well, it's 7 a.m., which is early for the entire lack of sleep I had yesterday. Or I should say, this morning.
Rubbing my eyes, I head downstairs to make about a hundred coffees. Kitt and Will are the only ones already up, and they're drinking beer around the table.
Yeah, beer.
"Seriously?" I say, reaching for the coffee.
"Ninety percent of you is caffeine," Kitt says.
"Ninety percent of you is alcohol," I reply. "What's your point?"
They both laugh, and Will cracks open another bottle. They're crazy. By midday, they're going to be dead.
"Have either of you two actually slept?" I ask, putting the beans in the machine and flicking it on.
Oh my God, I need caffeine so bad. My eyes are stinging because I'm so tired.
"Be more specific," Kitt replies, raising his eyebrow.
"Have either of you slept in the last twenty-four hours?"
"That would be a no."
And I see it. They're both glossy-eyed and smiling. They've gone past the point of being tired, but the slight shadows under their eyes tell all. Kitt's beautiful dark blue eyes are marred by a light redness, but he's still perfect.
Over the years, Will's eyes, which were almost black, have lost some of their pigment and lightened. He thinks it's cool and not at all due to the fact that he's aging. Today, they look dark because he's substituted sleep with beer.
As well as his eyes lightening, Will's black hair is starting to grey around the sides. Apparently, it's a sign of a well-lived life. I call it too much alcohol and too many women.
"You do know that you both have to be fully functioning humans today, right? We all have a club to be at tonight--which you need to remove my dad from early, Will. I'm cutting you off after that one, and you're switching to coffee."
"God, she sounds like my mum," Will teases. "And don't worry. I'll have him home nice and early, so you can do whatever it is you do when there's no adult supervision."
With the Band Page 4