With the Band

by Natasha Preston

Oh God.

  He pins us both to the spot with a look of pure rage. "Sit. Down. Now."

  We take a seat on the sofas with the table between, safer with a buffer. Kitt puts his hands out on the wooden surface and holds eye contact with my dad. Kitt's spine is straight, and he looks like a picture of calm.

  How is he so composed? My back is hunched, and my arms are holding myself together.

  On a sigh, Dad drops his arms on the table. "We need to have a chat." His voice is eerily cool for the situation.

  It's the same voice he used on me when I accidentally put hair dye in this ho's shampoo bottle. She was trying to be his groupie, and...well, we all know how that ends. He was anything but calm when we got back to the hotel suite. And just to clear things up, I was twelve at the time.

  "I want to know what was going through your head?" Dad asks. His question is for me.

  I gape at him. He wants to know what I was thinking about when Kitt was taking me against the tour bus?

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kitt's eyes widen, as if he can read my mind.

  "He means, why did you do it, Tex?" Kitt says quickly, shooting me a what-the-fuck-are-you-on look.

  Wow. Okay, close call. I shrug. "I-I don't know."

  Dad swallows hard and says through gritted teeth, "You don't know what you were thinking when you gave your virginity away to a musician up against the side of a fucking bus?"

  Oh...okay, next problem, not technically a virgin. Now, I get to either tell my daddy that I'd slept with my ex a year ago after I told him I hadn't or let him think that I'm such a classy bird that I got my cherry popped in a public place. Decisions, decisions...

  "Um, Dad, that wasn't my first time."

  Definitely better not to be the first-time bus whore.

  I watch his face turn red. Maybe it is better to be the first-time bus whore.

  He turns to Kitt. "How long has this been going on?" he growls.

  Oh, shit, he thinks my first time was with Kitt.

  Yeah, don't you correct that.

  It might as well have been. It's the first time I needed it, the first orgasm through sex, the first time it meant so much more than a physical act.

  Kitt's midnight-blue eyes briefly flick to me, and I silently beg him to go along with it. I know I'm not a slut. It's not like I've had the whole fucking band or anything, but I don't want my dad to look even more disappointed in me than he already does.

  "A few weeks," Kitt says.

  Wow. Yeah, it's not even been a month yet. How is that even possible?

  "What exactly is going on?" Dad's eyes are wide.

  I've known him long enough to know it's from fear as well as anger. In his head, he's seeing me crying after a coke and whore addiction story has broken about Kitt.

  I shake my head because I, too, am scared--only, not about Kitt.

  I clear my throat. "Well, we..." Are in love and had wild sex against your band's tour bus. "We just..."

  "So, you have sex? So, you're just sleeping together?" He stands up so quickly that I almost don't see it. "My daughter is your fuck buddy?" he spits as he clenches his fists.

  Okay, I made it worse.

  He's jumped to conclusions.

  Because you took too long telling him everything Kitt is to you.

  Kitt stands, holding his hands up in surrender. If this situation wasn't majorly awkward and making me want to throw myself out of said bus anyway, my dad just uttered the phrase fuck buddy.

  "No. It's not like that," Kitt replies, frowning. He looks genuinely disgusted that anyone would label us with that title.

  "You're not together, but you're not fuck buddies," Dad says.

  I bite back a laugh, earning a glare from Kitt. "Dad, please."

  He turns to me. "This isn't how I brought you up, Texas."

  "Am I supposed to die a virgin? Jesus, Dad, I've seen your band bring God knows how many women back to their rooms. I've even walked in on Will doing one of them in the dressing room! You really expect me to believe in no sex before marriage?"

  He clenches his jaw when he knows I'm right. Dad might have done everything for me, raised me pretty much on his own, but I certainly haven't had a normal upbringing. Not that I minded. I've loved our life, and I'm sure, after years of therapy, I'll be able to forget Will and the redhead going at it on the counter.

  He sighs and shakes his head. "I still wanted more for you, Texas. This isn't how it's supposed to be. And you should have been married before. And thirty."

  "I'm sorry, Dad." Apologies are better, surely.

  He paces, clenching his fists over and over. "So am I, Texas. Shit, who was I kidding when I thought it would be a great idea to raise a child on the road?"

  I don't like where this is going. "There's nothing wrong with how you've raised me. I've seen most of the world. How many people can say that?" And I've met Guns N' Roses.

  "And look where that's led? You shouldn't have been around this lifestyle," he growls.

  "Oh, please. Look at all those other celebrities' kids. I think I've turned out pretty damn well, thank you." At least our sex tape wasn't released, and from the angle of the CCTV camera, you can't even see what we were doing once he slammed me against the side of the bus. Our clothes didn't come off until after that.

  Winner right here.

  "Look, we're not explaining this properly, and people are jumping to the wrong conclusions," Kitt says. He's the voice of reason when Dad and I aren't thinking about what's spurting from our mouths.

  Dad freezes. "Then, please explain, Kitt!"

  I look up between them. This isn't the calmish conversation it started as, and it's certainly not going how I want it to go. "Can we all sit back down first?"

  They both glance down at me, but after a heartbeat, they do sit.

  Kitt takes a breath and places his hands back on the table. I want to put mine over the top and show solidarity. Maybe it will show Dad what I'm having a rubbish time explaining, that Kitt and I are not messing around and that we sure as hell aren't casual.

  "Paris is when I truly realised why certain things were bothering me--Texas looking at other men, for example. She started to get to me, piss me off, in ways she shouldn't have been able to."

  I give him a look, but he's focused on my dad. Charming.

  "We argued, and to make it up to her, I took her to the Eiffel Tower at night. Ted was with us," he adds before Dad can blow up on that one. "It's where I understood why things had changed. I realised I like her way more than I ever intended to."

  Dad's eyes cut to me, and I sit up straight. There is so much judgement in his gaze, and I can't blame him for an ounce of it.

  "You've been together since Paris?" he spits, his face turning red with rage.

  I tap my knees under the table. "Yes. I've liked him for a lot longer than that, Dad, and I swear, this isn't some casual thing. We haven't jumped into this."

  "That's not what it sounds like from Kitt's perspective. He said himself that he started to feel differently in Paris, and that's when you two started...this. That was...what? Nineteen days ago? Am I right, Kitt? Isn't that when you started to feel differently about my child?"

  Kitt grits his teeth when I'm referred to as a child, but he lets it go. "Partly. I've always been close to Tex, but I never realised what that meant until Paris. I understand how this looks, Mark, but I'm crazy about her. We're together exclusively, and there's not one woman on earth I would risk losing her over."

  Is it possible for your heart to explode? Like properly explode?

  I almost have to fan myself. His words are too much. They make me ache in the best possible way. I can never get enough of hearing how much I mean to him, especially after wanting him for so long.

  "I feel the same, Dad. We both appreciate that this will take some adjusting for you, and we owe you a huge apology for the way you found out. We probably need to have a few conversations about things we've discussed in the past, but I'm happy with Kitt, like lottery-w
in happy. So, please, can you try to be happy for us?"

  Dad's mouth straightens into a grim line that makes him look harsh. It's not a great sign of things to come, but I'm not giving up on this. Whatever happens and whatever rubbish Kitt and I have to go through, it will work out because it has to. Dad will never be able to stay angry with me forever.

  If he flies off the handle now, I know it'll only be temporary. He doesn't know me and Kitt together. All he knows is that I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve when it comes to the people I truly care about, and Kitt has a terrible track record with women.

  It's easy to see why Dad's not doing cartwheels over this.

  He rubs eyes that match mine. "I think, for the remainder of the tour, you should go back to London and stay with your mum."

  My mouth drops in shock. What the hell? Did those words just leave his mouth?

  Kitt leans forward. "Mark, can't we talk this through a little more?"

  Yes! I like his idea. I don't want to stay with Jennifer, The Oven. I love it on tour, and I want to be where Kitt is. I have to be where he is.

  "I don't think talking is going to achieve anything, Kitt," Dad spits through his teeth. He thumps his fists on the table.

  Dad looks angry. His face is red, and his eyes are shooting daggers at the man I love.

  Bloody perfect.

  What did you expect? He saw you getting fucked against a bus!

  "Dad, please," I beg. My eyes fill with tears.

  He's never tried to send me to Jennifer before. Not once in my entire existence has he ever asked for help in raising me or dealing with a particular issue--even puberty. We kind of found our own way through it together, often having some very awkward conversations along with a tampon demonstration in a glass of water that I would love to erase from my memory. We've worked through every single issue without her, and now, when I'm nineteen, he wants Jennifer to take over for a while.

  "Dad, I don't need parenting anymore."

  His face hardens, and his jaw twitches. "You obviously need something, Texas, because the old you would never have lied to me or had sex in a public place!"

  I turn my head, unable to stand the look of disappointment. "I'm sorry, okay? We didn't want to lie, but we needed to figure out what this was, and there's no way we could've done that if you knew. I'm not asking you to be okay with this right away, but can you look at this from our perspective?"

  "No."

  Well, great.

  "Mark, you are the one person Texas would do just about anything to avoid hurting. This hasn't been easy for either of us, but she's struggled with this more than I think she's even told me." He looks at me and smiles, giving me strength and trying to keep me calm when he can see I'm starting to freak out over being shipped back to England with my mother.

  Keeping something so big from my dad has been tougher than I thought. At first, it was fun. I loved the secrecy, and honestly, I was over the moon to be with him, but the guilt came thick and fast.

  "But we did it because we were serious about each other. We know we planned to tell you and everyone else when we got back to England before leaving for America. I'm so in love with her, Mark. I won't ever hurt her. I'd die first."

  Heart goes boom.

  This time, because he makes me feel so loved, I could choke, and I cover his hand with mine. Dad immediately hones in on it, and the vein on his forehead protrudes. I don't care. This is unity. We are not asking for permission because we don't need it.

  Oh God, I think I'm going to pass out from the pressure. I've never stood up to Dad like this before. I'm sure the pride will come after the paralysing fear has gone.

  Kitt's thumb curls around my index finger.

  God, I love him. "Please, Dad. I don't want to go. We can't leave things like this, and you know it. We've never even gone to sleep without sorting our issues out, so I really don't see what going back to England will achieve."

  Every time I had a problem or Dad was stressing over the best thing for me, we'd talk it out because, together, we could get through anything. He was there every night I cried over my ex, and I was there when he struggled with a UK tour while I was taking my GCSE exams. Between rehearsals and appearances and performances, he was there with my textbooks, quizzing me and telling me I'd rock it.

  "I'm sorry that we didn't tell you straight away when we figured out where this was going, but I was scared. Kitt doesn't want to disappoint you either, and it was hard for us to know that we would. You've said, there is nothing we can't get past, so I'm asking you to honour that because you and me both need our relationship to be solid. Please, Dad. I can't lose you."

  "Texas," Dad says, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

  "Come on, Mark. You know she doesn't want to go, and I know you don't want her to. Don't punish everyone for no reason. Don't do this because of me."

  "It's not because of you. It's because of you two. How am I supposed to trust you around each other now?"

  Maybe because you've just threatened to ship me off to my damn mother's house, and I would do anything to avoid an unscheduled visit.

  "We'll earn your trust back, I swear," I say.

  "I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious about her, however long it takes."

  "You really want a girlfriend at this point in your life?" he asks Kitt, trying to psych him out.

  Kitt squeezes my hand. "I didn't. This wasn't in the plan, you know that, but I can't help it. She changed everything for me, and there's nothing I want more than to make her as happy as she makes me."

  Jesus.

  I'm breathless and inappropriately turned on for the current situation.

  Dad's eyes narrow, like he's unsure if he believes Kitt or not. He wants to because he wouldn't ever want me to end up heartbroken, but he doesn't like this at all.

  "Dad, please. I...I love him, too. I feel the same as he does. And I love you. I need you both. Please, don't do this, Dad. Please."

  "We'll see how it goes. If I still feel that I can't trust you in a couple of days, you're going to go to your mum's, Texas. I can't concentrate on this tour if you two are..."

  His face pales, and I know what he's thinking. No one wants to know their teenage daughter is having sex.

  "You can trust us." I'm not sure what he does not trust us with. Restraining? Like that's going to happen. Does he want us to keep things quiet still?

  "I need to go and see Carl." He storms out of the room, slamming the door.

  If he hadn't threatened shipping me off to Jennifer's, I would have made some sarcastic comment about him just leaving us alone.

  "I'm sorry, Tex," Kitt says on a sigh. "I'd hoped that would've gone better."

  "Well, he didn't cut any part of you off, and he's not booked me on the next plane to London, so it wasn't that bad."

  "I suppose. God, I hate the way he looked at me. He's done so much for me, and now, he hates me."

  "He doesn't hate you. He'll come around." I lay my head on his shoulder. "We just have to show him that we're not messing around here. It'll be fine."

  "Yeah, I know," he whispers against my head. "Promise me something?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Don't give up on us. Now that I know what it's like, I can't go back to before you."

  "You'll never have to go back to before me. Not ever."

  TEXAS

  FRIDAY, MAY 29

  COPENHAGEN, DENMARK

  Everyone has gone to bed, but I can't sleep. I watch the rain hit the window and drizzle down the glass. Today has been one of the crappiest so far. Dad hasn't looked at me since our conversation, and Kitt has kept a respectful distance.

  "What are you doing up?"

  My heart jumps at the sound of Kitt's sleep-filled voice.

  "Couldn't drift off," I reply, not even bothering to look at him.

  He sits down on the other side of the table and takes a sip from my freshly made coffee. The only thing he's wearing is a pair of sweatpants. I want to leap ov
er the table dividing us, run my tongue over his chest and the sexy tattoo that runs over his right bicep and shoulder, and then have more wild sex--this time, in the bus.

  "He'll calm down in couple of days. Guess seeing your daughter getting screwed against your tour bus kinda pisses you off."

  I manage a smile. "You put it so tastefully. Technically, he didn't see anything though."

  He shrugs one of his muscular shoulders. "I still think it's hot. Hank's sending me a copy."

  My jaw falls on the table, and Kitt laughs.

  "Uh-oh. If Mark catches you two porn stars out here..." Cooper says with the biggest, toothiest smile I have ever seen. He's loving this, of course.

  "Not very good porn stars. You couldn't see anything," I reply, giving him the finger.

  "Speak for yourself. I saw a lot," Kitt says, making me want to punch him.

  I ignore him and focus on Coop. "No one would pay for porn you can't see."

  "Unfortunately--or not--you could hear everything."

  What the hell? My eyes pop out of my head.

  Coop bursts out laughing. "Kidding!"

  "I hate you, Cooper," I snap.

  "Good thing really. Don't think your dad would have liked hearing you beg me to go harder," Kitt jokes.

  I throw a pen at him, wishing it were a bloody knife. It was all I had. He's still holding my coffee.

  "Hmm, maybe if you weren't such a little girl in bed, I wouldn't have to tell you how to do it."

  "Ou," Coop says, laughing again. "That had to hurt, man."

  Kitt raises his eyebrows. "Not really. I remember her moaning my name, and I still have the scratch marks on my shoulders to prove there was nothing girlie about it."

  Coop smirks in my direction, and I want to throw them both out the window.

  "Loved it, did ya?" Coop asks me.

  "She did," Kitt confirms.

  Do I even need to be present for this conversation? I hold my hand out. "Coffee."

  Kitt's smirk rivals Cooper's as he hands me my drink back.

  "You both suck," I say.

  Coop sits beside me. "Hmm...but do you?"

  I have nothing left to throw besides my coffee, but if I'm going to have to deal with them, I need it. Turns out I didn't need anything to throw because Kitt chucks the pen I launched at him at Coop.

  Ha.

  Coop easily catches it, shaking his head and laughing. "So, what are you two doing now?"

  "Sitting at the table with you," I reply.

  "We're doing nothing, mate, so get your head out of the gutter."