Kitt's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. "You're different."
He makes me feel different, too, like I'm not just another woman to mess around with, like I'm special. Sometimes. Then, there are many, many occasions when he makes me feel like I'm falling into a bottomless black hole.
At this moment, I feel like there's no one else. I don't want to hide my body away. He wants to see me, and I want him to as well.
"How am I different?" I ask.
"You're not a game I'm playing, Tex."
Well, that's good to hear. If he were just pushing the limits with me because he had a problem with following the rules, I'd lose it.
"Then, what are you doing? Because this definitely wouldn't be okay with my dad."
"I'm not looking to strip for your dad. Right now, I only care about what you think...what you want."
"You're asking what I want?" Best to not go there. "Are you going to regret this in the morning, Kitt?"
"Regret? No. Will I feel guilty as hell when I look him in the eyes tomorrow? Yes. But remembering one major detail makes it easier."
"What's that?"
"You're an adult, and you'll never be a one-night stand."
Bloody hell. My lungs deflate--in a good way.
If we did this, it'd be the start of something. It's dangerous to think about more with him. It could end so badly for me. I should be smart and think it through. But I can't. When I'm around him, there is no thinking, no logic, and no consequences. It's a bad combination, and I know I should stop.
But with Kitt, I can never stop.
TEXAS
FRIDAY, MAY 8
PARIS, FRANCE
The morning before a show is a chilled one, which is good because I'm so tired that I feel like my eyes are bleeding.
Last night, Kitt and I stayed up until four a.m. We fell asleep on my sofa. No funny business happened. It was nice. Thankfully, we were up in time to get back on the bus. We'll be at a different location in Paris tomorrow, so we checked out of the hotel, and now, we're heading to tonight's venue.
There's a lot to do throughout the day to prepare, especially since Enigma and Filthy Sound like to have a hand in everything, but the mornings are for eating good food and drinking your own body weight in coffee.
As the tour goes on, it'll be harder to get them all up, but I do it every time. While we're all together, it's not always easy to spend quality time when about a hundred things are happening all at once.
I turn the bacon and sausages, bumping along to Kings of Leon. What I really want to listen to is one of Filthy Sound's numbers, but I'm already failing big time in keeping my feelings for Kitt under wraps.
No need to add to it. Desperation doesn't look good on anyone--except for Kitt when he was kissing me in the cage.
Don't think about that, Texas.
Kitt is the first one out of his room, which isn't unusual. I don't think he went back to sleep when we hit the road for all of the thirty minutes.
Lazy musicians this morning. Jimmy used to get up early with me, but since Kitt's been around, he's been sleeping in, no longer feeling bad that I might be alone. It wouldn't have bothered me anyway, but I did appreciate his company.
"I think I'm dying, Tex," Kitt groans.
"Did you, by any chance, drink too much of my minibar?"
Jamming his fists into his eyes, he nods.
He changed his T-shirt. This one is white and plain. It doesn't do much to hide his tattoos, which kind of turns me on. We've not even slept together, and I want him all the time.
With my ex, Xander, it was never like that, and we'd had sex. I was self-conscious with Xander, but I let Kitt maul me in public. He makes me feel sexy with one look. It's unintentional, and he probably does the same to every woman he looks at. It's those come-to-bed deep blue eyes that do it.
Yeah, you really need help.
"You okay, Tex? You've not moved in a while."
"Right," I say, turning so that he doesn't see the colour of my cheeks. My face feels like it's on fire, so no doubt, my cheeks are red. Thank God he doesn't know he just witnessed me imagining having sex with him.
You're tragic. Get a grip.
Nodding my chin toward the coffee pot, I say, "Coffee is ready. Can you pour me one, too, please?"
Caffeine will help clear my dirty thoughts. I hope.
"Oh my God!" I spin around. How could I forget?
He's far too close. For a split second, we're back in the cage, and desire pools between my legs.
Clear head, Tex.
"I'm such an idiot. Today is huge for you. First show on your first tour. How are you feeling?"
He takes a little step closer, and his chest is centimetres from mine. The floor whips away, and I'm free-falling. I want him to kiss me so bad. My lips...yes, my lips ache.
Gulping, he clears his throat. "I'm fine besides a headache. I'm excited and nervous and anxious all at once. I want to be out there now." He's animated, and it makes his whole face light up.
I can't help from getting swept up in his excitement. He comes alive when he talks about music and the band. I love his passion. And I don't just mean his passion for music.
A part of me wonders what he'd do if I came on to him. Like properly. Would he take things further than we've already gone?
"I can't wait to watch you." My voice is too quiet. I sound ridiculous.
"Well, I can't wait for you to watch me."
Okay, where is this going? Because I would really like to watch him.
"Eggs?" I ask, mentally whacking myself with something hard.
Nice one, Texas. Now, you look like a total moron.
Kitt laughs. "Eggs sound good. Your bacon is going to burn soon, by the way."
Gasping, I spin around and take the pan off the heat. There's not a whole lot I can do on tour besides trying to keep them in check, so I want performance day breakfasts to be perfect.
While he's still laughing behind me, I hear Kitt grabbing two mugs for our coffee.
"Is there anything else you need me to do?" he asks.
There's plenty but nothing I can say aloud.
"Nope. I think I'm good. Thanks. You just sit and wait for food."
I turn the heat down, so the food will take a little longer because I don't hear any signs of life coming from the bedrooms above.
Taking my drink, I sit opposite of Kitt at the table, and my phone buzzes with a text.
Darling, wish the boys good luck. XOXO.
It's Jennifer. She could text Dad, but since she hit the big time, she doesn't need him anymore. Having his child was enough to rocket her career to the top. Things she wants to ask him go through me now.
"You going to reply to that?" Kitt asks.
He's read it, too, because my phone is lying on the table, and I didn't bother to pick it up.
"Doesn't really require a reply. Good luck from Jennifer."
Dipping his head, he picks up his mug and correctly chooses to leave the topic of Jennifer alone.
My mother is kind of a sore subject. I wouldn't change my life or the way I grew up. Dad's the best, and he made sure I never felt unwanted, but some real and meaningful interaction with the woman who brought me into this world would have been nice.
Why should I go out of my way when she can't be bothered?
"After-party tonight," he says, grinning.
"Now, that, I'm looking forward to."
He laughs, and his eyes turn lava hot. "Me, too," he rasps.
He's thinking about the cage. Oh my God!
After breakfast, I wait in the bus with Ted while the guys go off to do a final sound check and familiarise themselves with the venue. There's no reason for me to be there quite as early, so I have a quick shower, change, and lie down on my bed.
I'm tired and aching, so a nap is everything right now. Because no one can nap before reading the entire Internet, I scroll through Twitter.
There is tons of support for Filthy Sound. In fact, they're
trending! There's a lot of #MarryMeKitt.
Get in fucking line, darling.
And people are saying they want Cooper's children and to have sex with Milo on the stool he sits on while playing the drums.
When they're in the media more, there's an increase of photos. I hate photos. Kitt will never refuse a fan a picture or autograph, and it always comes back to bite me on the arse, especially when he takes slutty photos with the women he wants to feel up. They never have an issue with his tongue down their throat or his hand inside their bra or on their arse. In fact, they often actively encourage it.
Not that Kitt needs any encouragement.
I bite down on my tongue as I torture myself by flicking through some of them. Kitt's not mine, I'm fully aware of that, but it still hurts every time I see him with someone else. We might have kissed and whatever a couple of times, but that doesn't mean anything, not really. He's done more with countless women, and they're never seen again.
Kitt has called me beautiful before, he's admitted he's attracted to me, we've kissed twice, and we've shared something much more intimate, so I know there's something between us.
Is it just my dad, or is Kitt not that into me?
Nothing would make me change my dad, no chance, but it would be nice if his status didn't matter so much. Peyton couldn't care less. I wish Kitt could say the same.
He's not holding back because of who your dad is. It's who your dad is to him. Still doesn't help you though.
I turn my nose up. So many selfies of women with the Filthy Sound hashtag are flooding Twitter.
Filthy Sound is getting the recognition they deserve, and I love that, but I really wish the women would love them a little less. Jealousy is an ugly emotion but one of the hardest to control. I've learned that a thousand times over since I met Kitt.
I try hard not to let it bother me, but by now, I know it's pointless to push myself. I feel what I feel, and until I stop loving Kitt, I'm going to want to scratch the eyes out of every woman he gropes. Or I'll start drinking the harder stuff more often.
A text from Kitt flashes across the banner, and I'm a little too mad at him to want to look, which is ridiculous and makes me borderline insane.
When are you coming?
That's weird. Right? Isn't that weird?
The show isn't for hours yet, and he knows I planned on getting there closer to the start. I don't see why he needs to know an exact time...unless he wants me there.
He doesn't want you there. He probably needs something.
But he might just want you with him.
I type a quick reply.
Why? What's up?
My heart is in my mouth as I wait. Turns out, I don't do playing it cool well--internally anyway.
I'm bored. Coop's a nightmare. Milo wants to switch up the set.
Okay, that's kind of like he wants me there because he wants to spend time with me. Right? I'll take it. But I'm not getting up yet. Just because I want him above, like, breathing doesn't mean I'm going to let him know that.
Smiling to myself, I reply.
Sorry, busy. I'm in the bath.
It's a small lie. I'm lying down. I'm just not in water.
Naked selfie?
I bite my lip as I read his last message a few times over. Kitt has never seen me naked before. The idea of it makes my body burn and not just from the temperature of my pretend bath.
I'm a good girl, Kitt.
So, be bad.
I consider what to send next when I get another text from him.
Fuck, I'm hard.
Holy...
Is it possible to faint while lying down? Right now, I'm thinking yes.
I press my legs together, but it only heightens the throbbing.
I made him hard. Again. He was hard the night he slammed me against my wall and kissed me like his life depended on it. He was rock solid the night he made us come in the cage.
You're a guy. You're always hard.
I said that because I might want him to tell me it's not because he wants to get laid but because he wants me.
Not true. Are you sending me this pic? I'll send you one first if you're shy.
What?
I sit up so fast that I almost fall back down.
Oh my God. What the hell? Is he serious? Oh, please be serious.
Wait.
Kitt is very anti pissing my dad off, so I'm not convinced he's sending those messages right under my dad's nose. At the Christmas party, he didn't follow me upstairs until after Dad had left to drive Cynthia home from the party.
Coop?
I send the text with trembling fingers and swallow bile. My body is ice cold. I don't want it to be another one of Cooper's jokes, but this has a Cooper prank written all over it.
My phone starts to ring, and it's Kitt. Well, it's his number. I'm not sure if it'll be him on the other end of it. I press Accept and hold the phone to my ear.
I'm nervous. My heart is beating rapidly as I grip the phone so hard that the tendons in my wrist pop up.
"Are you telling me, you want Cooper to send you a pic of his dick?" Kitt hisses.
Sweet mother of...
It was him!
And he sounds pissed.
I open my mouth and quickly close it again. My brain has turned to mush, and I can't think of one thing to say.
"Texas?"
"Um...no."
"Um, no? That's all you have to say?"
Okay, what's happening right now? "No, I mean"--I sigh--"I don't want to see a picture of Cooper's anything. Your last message...I thought maybe he'd taken your phone."
"Why?" he questions. His voice is low, and it echoes, so he must be locked away in a bathroom or somewhere like that.
"I didn't think you'd offer to send me what you actually offered to send me."
"Well, I did." He groans like he's just realised what he was about to do. "Fuck."
In my need to save face because I can't have him rejecting me again, I say, "I know. Forget it, okay? We were just messing around. No harm done."
There's a pause on his end of the line, and I feel the tension growing and taking physical form. My pulse is thudding in my ears. He's annoyed because he thought I wanted Cooper.
"No harm done. Right. When are you coming over here?" he says. He's reserved, and he sounds like he's doing that neck-scratch thing he does when he's uncomfortable.
"Er, I'll get ready and have Ted drive me."
"Fine."
I frown and stand up to grab my leather jacket. "Are you okay?" I almost don't want to ask because I can see it turning into an argument.
He had that tone in his voice. For some reason, I can wind him up in a second.
He clears his throat. "Yes, I'm great. I've got to go. Carl's calling me."
Kitt hangs up the phone.
Carl wasn't calling him. Kitt just lied. He was desperate to get off the phone.
Did he see where this was headed, too?
How did we go from almost sexting to barely talking?
He's so frustrating!
Being around him and all this back and forth and up and down is like being on a terrifying roller coaster ride, and the worst part is, I don't even want to get off--the ride, that is.
KITT
FRIDAY, MAY 8
PARIS, FRANCE
Since my phone call with Texas, I've been frustrated and pissed off. Why did I even go there?
A beautiful girl tells me she's in the bath, and my dick immediately takes control over the situation. I didn't think. There is no fucking bath on the bus! She's making me lose my mind.
She'll be here soon. It's been almost an hour since we spoke on the phone.
What would I have done if she'd sent that photo? It terrifies me how far I might take it when I'm not thinking clearly, which is all the time she's near or when I'm thinking about her.
I need to make it stop.
Tex is off-limits, and that's hot as hell. It's like putting sweets in front of a ki
d, saying not to eat them, and then leaving the room. They won't be able to resist, and I'm not sure I will if she offers herself up.
I'm in my dressing room, sucking down whiskey like it's water.
Milo would be pissed if he saw how much I'd had already. We've got hours before we go on, so I'll sober up in time, but he will definitely have a few things to say about my behaviour.
And he'll be right.
This is our first show. The first damn one! I need to be on top of my game, not have my head screwed over by some unattainable girl. Shit, I can have anyone I want. After the show, there will be plenty of women willing to come back to my dressing room or hotel with me.
Why do I want inside the pants of the one I can't have?
Who am I? Cooper?
I need Texas out of my system. If I could just have one night with her, things could go back to how they were before I started to wonder what she felt like.
You don't believe that.
Closing my eyes, I fist the glass to the point where I feel it could give way.
It can't happen. Get a-fucking-hold of yourself.
Someone knocks on my door.
I down the last of the whiskey, drop the tumbler on the table, and shout, "Yeah?"
Texas walks in, looking like my own brand of perfect. Her hair is in a messy plait to the side, her lips are red, and she's wearing skintight jeans, a plain grey top, and a leather jacket.
I want to push her over the dressing table and hold on to nothing but that hair.
Clearing my throat, I smirk. "So glad you could make it."
She narrows her eyes and puts her hands on her hips, which makes her top stretch over her breasts.
Fuck. Me.
"Shut up. I don't need to be here early. And I hope that was apple juice."
"Of course it was."
Smiling, she shakes her head. "You're terrible, rock star. Are you crippled with nerves yet?"
She closes the door and sits down on the large sofa with a grin. Her legs are stretched out in front of her. I want them wrapped around my neck.
Shut up. Resist. You can't go there. Tonight, you can have any girl you want--more than one if you feel like it.
I might just do that.
"Nope, I'm fine."
"Hmm, all thanks to the whiskey?"
"I've only had a couple."
"Keep it that way. You can get drunk after."
"Plan to. You're still coming to the club, right?"
I don't know why I'm asking. Of course she's still coming. She loves the after-parties almost as much as Coop does.
"Duh. I plan to get so drunk that one of you arseholes will have to carry me to my room."
With the Band Page 8