With the Band (With the Band #1)

by Natasha Preston

  If there weren’t something wrong with me, some part that must like getting hurt, I’d leave and go home. It would be much easier. But I need to be around him.

  My God, you are so screwed up.

  Even though I know he’s going to be shagging someone else tonight, I still won’t bloody leave. That’s not right. Maybe I should put an SOS call in to Peyton. She’ll have me on the next flight out of Paris.

  We go our separate ways when we’re back at the hotel, and I dial Pey’s number as soon as Ted wiggles the door handle on the other side to make sure it’s definitely locked.

  I have three male rock stars and a bulky bodyguard who’ve had a hand in bringing me up. I shouldn’t be this bad with Kitt.

  How were you raised by four men and still suck with guys?

  You’re a special kind of fail.

  “What have you done now?” Peyton says down the phone.

  “Piss off, bitch. I’ve not even said anything yet!”

  She laughs. “You don’t need to. You’re in close contact with Kitt every day, so something is bound to have gone wrong.”

  “And you immediately think it’s because of me?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you lurve him and because he…” She stalls, not wanting to hurt my feelings.

  Honestly, it’s nothing worse than I’ve had direct from the source a hundred times over.

  “Because he doesn’t like me in that way,” I say.

  “Oh my God, Tex, do you want me to go?”

  “No. I want you to come here.”

  “I wish I could. Portugal, I promise.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  “Are you going to the show tonight?”

  I groan. “Yep.”

  “Are you going to tell me what’s happened with him?”

  Cage, dry-humping. I don’t think so.

  “We kissed, and it’s a big mistake that should’ve never happened.” Apparently.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. Just be prepared to get me shitfaced when you’re here.”

  “Like that wasn’t going to happen anyway.”

  I love her.

  “Anyway, do you need more moral support? Only, I’m on set, and I’m fucking tired. If we don’t wrap this up, I’m going to kill someone.”

  “Wow. Go act your little heart out, and I’ll speak to you soon.”

  “Be careful, Tex,” she says before the line goes dead.

  Her warning is a little late.

  Enigma is kicking things off, like, right now, so I run toward the back entrance. I’m bloody late! My dad might well be past it now, but I’m not missing his performance.

  I stepped outside for a second because my stupid phone wasn’t getting reception, and I had to return Jennifer’s call. Turned out to be nothing besides her asking how it was going.

  A member of security folds his arms over his bodybuilder-style chest as I approach. I expect him to step aside, but he doesn’t.

  “Excuse me,” I say. “I need to get inside.”

  “I’m sure you do. Ticket holders need to use the front or side entrance. If you don’t have a ticket, you’re not getting in.”

  Well, of course I don’t have a bloody ticket. “I’m Texas, Mark Knight’s daughter. Can you let me in, please? I really don’t want to miss the show.”

  Whoa, he does not believe me at all. His overgrown eyebrows rise higher than I ever thought possible.

  “That’s a new one. I’ll give you that. Sorry, love.”

  “What? I’m not making it up. Look, just go get him or anyone else—literally, anyone—and they’ll tell you,” I say, looking past him into the building.

  “I don’t know how you got around here, but you need to leave. Now.”

  “I got around here because our fucking car is right over there,” I snap, pointing to the vehicle he can’t even see in the dark. “Come on, please. I promised my dad I’d watch, and I want to see him before he goes on.”

  “Do you think I was born yesterday?”

  “Right now, I do, yeah,” I reply through gritted teeth. “Why would I make up being Mark’s daughter?”

  “To get inside.”

  I sigh sharply. “I’m not lying. I’m with the band.”

  “Of course you are, darlin’.”

  Fine, he asked for it.

  “Dad!” I scream at the top of my lungs, making the guy jump.

  “What the hell are you playing at?” he shouts as he reaches out for me.

  I jump back and hold my hand up. “Don’t touch me!”

  Cooper pops his head around the door, and I want to kiss him.

  “Tex, you okay? What the fuck are you doing out there?”

  The bouncer’s face drops as he realises he’s made a mistake. He looks like he’s scared for his job. If I were a total bitch, he should be. But I’m not, so I won’t say anything.

  “Excuse me, please,” I say.

  He steps aside, muttering an apology.

  Cooper slings his arm over my shoulder and kisses the side of my head. “He giving you a hard time?”

  “Nah. He just assumed I’m a groupie.”

  “Anytime you want to give that role a try—”

  “I’ll speak to Milo.”

  “Ouch, girl. Why Milo?”

  Because saying Kitt would send me paranoid that Cooper might joke about it. I can’t handle Kitt knowing how I feel about him. I mean, he probably knows, but it’s not been confirmed. I don’t want it to be confirmed.

  My life is one big fucking picnic.

  “Why not Milo?”

  Cooper stops and pulls my arm, twisting me around so that he’s facing me head-on. “I’m much better-looking, and you know it.”

  “Better-looking than who?” Kitt asks from behind me.

  My breath catches. I was not ready for him.

  “Nothing. Good luck out there.” I dash off to Ted, who’s standing down the hall.

  My heart is in my stomach. I can’t be around Kitt.

  TEXAS

  SATURDAY, MAY 9

  PARIS, FRANCE

  I love the part of the after-party when my dad fucks off. It only ever happens if Kitt, Milo, and Cooper are with me because, without them, I would obviously be murdered or whatever other scenarios my dad stresses over.

  It only took five shots to get me drunk. Or was it six? Whatever. I had shots, and I’m buzzing. The atmosphere is awesome, and everyone is being friendly. And, so far, there has been no drama. I think it helps that the only sober people are security and staff.

  I’m at the bar with Kitt, Milo, and Jessica LaRoux, who I’m kind of fangirling over because she’s a mega awesome actress and she has kissed many beautiful leading men. I want to quiz her on them, but you should always be able to relax at an after-party, not have more crazies hounding you.

  She’s probably going to be sleeping with Milo tonight because there have been many, many looks between them. And his hands have been on her all night.

  “So, you want to dance, handsome?” she asks Milo, tilting her head to the side in a sexy and seductive way.

  Smirking, he hands Kitt his drink and backs Jessica up to the dance floor.

  Kitt necks Milo’s whiskey and slams the empty on the side just as Cooper storms over to us.

  “Uh-oh,” I mutter.

  He looks pissed off and frustrated.

  “What happened?” Kitt asks.

  “I’ve just had boring sex.” He scowls.

  “Maybe you’re losing your mojo,” I tease.

  His baby-blue eyes instantly darken, and if I wasn’t a girl, I think I would’ve been floored by now. Beside me, Kitt laughs.

  “That is not it, and if you’re going to say shit like that, I’m going to take you over the bar to prove you wrong.”

  I shrug. “No, thanks. I don’t like boring sex.”

  “Kitt, sort her out.”

  Kitt shakes his head.

  Coop�
�s eyes narrow. “Why not?”

  “Funny.”

  I grin and raise my eyebrows. “See? He’s on my side. Why was this last girl boring then? She just lie there, like a sack of potatoes?”

  “Not exactly. Just didn’t feel right.”

  “You had it in the right hole, yeah?” Kitt asks.

  “Fuck off,” Coop replies. “She was…you know…”

  “A man?” I say.

  “You two are dicks!”

  “Ah, come on. What was wrong with her?” Kitt asks.

  “I’m not one to be rude about people’s bits and pieces, but she was big down there, like no-point-in-doing-it big. Seriously, it was like chucking a sausage down a tunnel.”

  Kitt laughs, but I do not.

  What the fuck is wrong with Cooper?

  “Jesus! I have the worst mental image,” I groan. “You’re a terrible person, Coop.”

  “You both asked me what was wrong with her.”

  “And aren’t we regretting that?” Kitt probably isn’t actually. He’s still laughing.

  They’re going straight to hell.

  “How do you know it’s her and not you? You might be tiny,” I say.

  I know he isn’t, and I don’t mean that I’ve been there, but almost everyone has seen Cooper’s penis. He’s not at all shy.

  “You’re cute, Tex.”

  “You’re a pig, Coop.”

  “Who’s your conquest for the evening?” he asks, ignoring my gibe.

  “Yeah, I’m not like you guys.”

  “Ah, come on. I’ve pulled already. It looks like Milo is about to, and Kitt likes the blonde in the red dress. What about you?”

  Kitt likes some slut in a red dress?

  Gritting my teeth, I look around the room, pretending I’m not affected by Kitt’s perving over someone who is not me. “Not sure yet.”

  “You’re not playing, Tex,” Kitt says.

  He sounds very authoritative, and it’s bloody annoying. How dare he try to dictate what I can and cannot do, like my dad does. I know Dad told them to look out for me, but this is ridiculous.

  Unless he likes you…

  Nope. Don’t go there. It always backfires.

  When we shared those kisses, the cage, every look, and every near miss, I thought something might come of it. I can’t keep giving a piece of myself to him, only to have it thrown back.

  “I think I’ll do whatever I damn please. Thank you very much. Who isn’t a dickhead in here, Cooper?”

  Throwing his arm around my shoulders, he scans the room. “Well…I don’t know many of them. Or I do, and I was drunk the last time.” He flashes a smile. His liver is probably shrivelled. “I think Isaiah is pretty down though.”

  “Hmm,” I murmur, looking Isaiah over. “He’s gorgeous.”

  “Cooper, what are you doing? Mark will have your balls if you introduce her to—”

  “Funny enough, Kitt, I hadn’t planned on telling him,” he replies.

  “You need to stop. I’m not a fucking kid, and if I want to see someone, I will,” I snap.

  Who the bloody hell does he think he is?

  Kitt holds his hands up and turns around. I instantly regret what I said, which pisses me off even more.

  Forcing myself to look away, I say to Cooper, “Introduce me.”

  I don’t really want to do this, but maybe meeting someone new is what I need to finally get over Kitt. To be fair, I’d be bloody over the moon just to stop thinking of him constantly.

  We are never going to happen, and I have to accept that.

  You can’t accept that because you’re so in love with him that you’d rather have your heart pummelled than walk away. You. Need. To. Seek. Help.

  Cooper takes my hand and marches me through the throng of gyrating bodies on the dance floor. I recognise most people here, and I’m a little starstruck by some. Everyone is drinking champagne, and laughter is buzzing off the walls. It seems like Kitt and I are the only ones not jumping with happiness tonight.

  Coop squeezes my hand as we get closer. I know of Isaiah and his band, The Kings. They’re a little more mainstream than Enigma and Filthy Sound, but they’re good. This is my first time meeting him.

  He turns as we approach, and when his amber eyes land on me, he smiles. At least he seems interested. Isaiah is very good-looking. His chiselled jaw and dusty-blond hair are enough to melt hearts and have women lift their skirts. He’s tall and muscular, and he has a killer smile.

  Even though he’s the whole perfect package, I can’t help but compare him to Kitt. I do it with every man.

  And, of course, Kitt never loses.

  “Isaiah, hey, man,” Cooper says, slapping him on the shoulder.

  “Great show tonight,” Isaiah replies.

  “Thanks. This is—”

  “Texas Knight,” Isaiah finishes. “Pleasure.” He leans in and kisses my cheek.

  Bit forward, but Kitt is backward, so it’s a nice change.

  “Hi,” I say before biting my lip.

  He smells good. It’s a woodsy smell I recognise from the vast amount of guitars we have at home and on tour.

  “Gotta go. Milo’s calling me,” Cooper says before ducking out.

  Milo obviously hasn’t called him or anyone. He has his tongue down Jessica’s throat.

  I wince. “Yeah, Coop’s not so subtle.”

  Isaiah laughs, and his voice is deep and sexy. “No, he’s really not. So, how are you finding things on tour?” He frowns. “I’m a dick. Forget I said that. You’ve been on tour since you were in nappies.”

  Who would’ve thought this rock star was actually awkward? It’s endearing.

  My rock stars are cocky little fuckers.

  “It’s better now that I’m of drinking age,” I reply.

  “You didn’t drink underage?”

  “Oh, I did, but since I turned eighteen, my dad’s been a bit more relaxed about leaving me with Kitt, Cooper, and Milo.”

  I’ve no idea why. He’s met them.

  “Your dad is my fucking hero. I grew up listening to his music and miming along at his concerts. And you can never tell him I told you that.”

  I salute. “Your secret will die with me.”

  Isaiah laughs and nods his head toward the bar. “You want to get a drink?”

  I’ve probably had enough, but I really want to spend some time with him. It’s healthy since we seem to have a mutual like for each other so far.

  “I’d love to.”

  He places his hand on my hip as we dodge the people on the dance floor. Kitt is at the bar, too, so this might get a little uncomfortable.

  “What are you having?”

  “Sambuca,” I reply, smirking.

  His light eyebrows rise. “Oh, yeah? Well, it’d be rude to make you take shots on your own.”

  “Plural?” I ask.

  “You only want one?”

  I shake my head.

  Yes, this is exactly what I need. Getting wasted with a beautiful man is about my favourite thing to do.

  “Good,” he replies.

  Isaiah and I clink glasses before downing the first shot.

  “What’s next for the band then?” I ask.

  He steps closer, so we’re in each other’s personal space. “Oh, you’ve heard of me then?”

  Biting my lip, I nod, hoping it looks sexy. It must because Isaiah’s mouth parts, and he presses his chest against mine. His chest is hard and muscular. He towers above me, but he looks good from this angle. My heart isn’t all over the place, like it is with Kitt, but I’m definitely attracted to Isaiah. I mean, I have eyes.

  “I happen to quite like your band,” I say.

  His lips pull up into a crooked smile. “I’ll have to get you backstage next time.”

  “Yes, you will. I’m not a groupie though, Isaiah.”

  Chuckling, he wraps his arms around my waist. “Believe me, I know.”

  “You’re kind of confusing.”

  He looks genui
nely surprised. “I am?”

  “Yes. One minute, you’re shy and borderline awkward, and the next, you’re forward. Which one is the real Isaiah?”

  “You’ll have to spend some time with me and find out.”

  “Mmhmm, but I’ll be gone in the morning.”

  “So, we have, what? Seven hours?”

  “About that. If we don’t sleep.”

  This is moving speed-of-light fast, but it’s a nice change of pace.

  “Texas!” Kitt shouts.

  Isaiah’s eyes light up. “Kitt Daniels. Man, awesome show.”

  Kitt grinds his teeth. “Thanks. We’re leaving in ten, Tex.”

  “Fine. I’ll see you at the hotel in the morning.”

  “Do you really think that’s going to happen?”

  I’m burning with anger. My skin feels hot and tight, and I want to slap him.

  Glaring, I stare him down. He doesn’t budge. His eyes bore into me, and his face is completely blank. I don’t know if he’s jealous or just being a prick.

  Isaiah puts his arm over my shoulders. “It’s cool, man. I’ll make sure she gets back okay.”

  “See? I’m fine with Isaiah.”

  I tug his wrist, and he takes the hint. We walk away from Kitt and head toward a table in the corner.

  Kitt is being fucking ridiculous. My hands are shaking. I’m so angry with him.

  “You good?” Isaiah asks, sitting down on a stool.

  Be fine. Isaiah is gorgeous, too, and you’re having a nice time with him.

  “I am.”

  He smiles and pulls me between his legs. I don’t feel what I feel when I touch Kitt, but I’m not hopelessly in love with Isaiah, so there’s no reason I’d feel the same. Plus, I’m not looking to marry the guy. We’re just having a few drinks together.

  “Glad to hear it. So, if I were to ask you to dance, what are the odds you’ll say yes?”

  “Hmm, I think your odds are pretty good.”

  His eyebrows lift. “Interesting.”

  He takes my hands and puts them around his neck.

  Yep, I’m going to enjoy tonight.

  KITT

  SATURDAY, MAY 9

  PARIS, FRANCE

  I take a swig straight from the bottle I made the bartender give me. I’m past the point of having the patience to wait for single glasses. Texas is pissing me the fuck off.