by Alla Kar
When we stepped out of the taxi at the tour bus the doors were wide open. Dad’s SUV was parked right beside it and my stomach felt heavy.
“Why is he here? I thought we weren’t leaving until the morning?” My grip tightened on Paxton’s arm.
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s loo—,”
“Missy!” My back straightened at the sound of my dad’s squeal. Oh, no. “Where in the hell have you been?”
I was ready for Paxton to catch me if I fell but I realized he wasn’t anywhere near me. What the—
“Hello?” Dad snapped his fingers. “I asked you a question, Missy. Where in the hell have you been?”
Ginger came up behind dad with an apologetic smile on her face. Hadn’t she said she’d keep ‘dad busy.’ Way to go, Ginger.
“I went for a walk, Dad. God, I’m not thirteen-years-old.”
He narrowed his brows. “Where is Paxton then? The boys haven’t seen him and he wasn’t upstairs.”
“I don’t know dad. Why don’t you call him and ask.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“Patrick,” Ginger said. “She said she hasn’t seen him. Can we go? I’m starting to get cold.”
Dad glanced back at Ginger and rolled his eyes. “Well, tell Paxton that tomorrow morning we have a signing in Chicago. We’ll be there for a few days.”
I nodded.
He gave me a once over and stalked back to his vehicle with Ginger trailing closely behind. I sent her a mental thank-you. It was the best she was going to get.
Paxton cleared his throat. “That was close,” he said. I couldn’t help but hear the sadness in his voice.
I nodded. “I’m sick of him.”
“You and me both,” Paxton mumbled, running his palms over his face. “Let’s get inside. You look chilly.”
I had gooses bumps but I wasn’t chilly. Something bad was going to happen but the bad thing was that I didn’t care. I had fallen head over heels for Paxton Evers.
And there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Chapter Ten
Missy
Thirteen hours later we were in Chicago.
The roadies had already unloaded the bus and set up by the time Paxton’s alarm woke us up. Paxton grumbled and then sat straight up in my bed. “Someone’s coming up the stairs.”
I squealed and bit my nails as Paxton ran across the room and dove underneath his covers. I closed my eyes and then heard someone clear their throat.
Ginger had a huge smile on her face, and was eyeing Paxton’s clothes next to my bed. “Oh come on, guys. We all know you can do better than this.” She gestured toward the pile of clothes scattered along the floor.
Heat swarmed my cheeks.
“Is there something you need?” Paxton asked, scowling at her over a yawn.
She smiled. “Yes. You’re both needed ready as soon as possible. The signing starts soon and your dad needs to talk to you about something.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “Okay. Thanks, Ginger.”
With a wave, she turned on her heels and disappeared down the stairs. “Want to look at it?”
“By it do you mean what you’re hiding in your boxers, because I think we don’t have time for that right now?”
“You’re getting dirtier and dirtier by the day, Sugar. I’m going to have to think of a new nickname for you.”
I slung the covers off of me and stood up. My legs were bare; the only item of clothing I was wearing was his shirt from last night. “You look good in my shirt, baby.”
I did. “Weren’t we supposed to be looking at something?”
“Your tattoo.” He gestured toward my shoulder. Oh, I had forgotten. Crap! I had gotten a tattoo. I automatically reached back to touch it. At the same time Paxton and I went racing toward the bathroom mirror so we could both look.
Paxton basically tore the fabric from my shoulder but gently peeled back the bandage. Just Feel.
Tears pricked my eyes because I couldn’t believe I’d actually done it. My dad would have flipped but I didn’t care. Paxton trailed his knuckle against the risen skin and slowly bent down to kiss it.
“It looks great. Despite the asshole who gave it to you, he did a great job. The font suits you.”
I agreed but I was too busy tracing over the letters with the tips of my fingers to tear my eyes away. “I love it. It’s perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” he whispered against my cheek. “And you don’t even know it.”
***
I slid on my pink cardigan over a white summer dress to hide my tattoo. I wasn’t ready to ride the ‘I got a tattoo bus’ with dad just yet—or ever.
The band was standing at the back entrance of the mall where they were having the signing. But when I saw Dad standing with Benton my stomach churned.
Oh, no.
Dillon was nudging Paxton’s side but he was staring at me and then he realized what I was looking at. And his posture turned stiff. What was I supposed to do? Dad was obviously going to suggest we go out again and I had no excuse but the truth to tell him.
I’d fallen for Paxton and Benton didn’t even compare. God—this was going to suck!
“Missy!”
Oh, no. My escape plan was half-way in the works when dad waved his hand really big at me. I didn’t want to appear deaf or blind so I waved back at him. “What is it?” I asked from a safe distance.
Dad gave me a pointed look. “Why don’t you come over here with us, Missy?”
I bit my lip.
“Get over here,” Dad snapped out. My eyes held Paxton’s the entire fifty feet I walked toward them. I wanted to walk over and kiss the hell out of him. But we hadn’t talked about how we were going to handle everything. Dad could fire Paxton in a heartbeat.
“It’s nice to see you again, Missy,” Benton said. I forced my gaze away from Paxton’s to Benton in front of me.
He gave me a charming smile and reached out to kiss my knuckles. God, gag! What was this? The 1800’s?
“Benton is going to take you to dinner tonight, and then show you around Chicago since you’ll both be at the same university.”
My mouth was sandpaper. All the profanities that were on the edge of my tongue were stuck.
This wasn’t happening. I couldn’t imagine anything worse happening at that moment. My brain had turned into a tornado inside of my head. Everything was wrong. This was wrong.
“Dad,” I whispered beneath my breath. “I think we need to talk.”
Dad’s upper lip twitched and I knew he was on the verge of exploding. I didn’t care. “I don’t have time to talk, Missy. And you do not either. Because you’re leaving with Benton.”
I could feel Benton staring at the side of my face, but I couldn’t make eye contact. Dad was going to pay for this and it wasn’t going to be a painless death.
I opened my mouth again to say anything I could think of when I caught Paxton’s gaze. He slowly nodded yes and mouthed ‘Go. I trust you.’
What? I slowly shook my head and bit my lip so hard I could taste the blood. Paxton’s jaw clenched. ‘Do it now,’ he mouthed.
And before I could answer he grabbed his guitar and bolted inside. No! I wanted to run after him and beg him to just leave with me. I’d just met him—but the connection was just there and it wasn’t something I wanted to loose.
“Missy!”
My attention shot back to my dad. “Get your things. You’re leaving.” He turned to Benton. “Please have her home by eight, we have to be in Jefferson City by tomorrow morning.”
Eight. What in the hell was I supposed to do with him for nine hours? Dad let the door slam shut which startled me out of my daze.
“You look lovely, Missy,” Benton said.
I glanced over at him and gave a small smile. “Thanks. So, what are we doing today?”
He frowned and ran his hands through his dark hair. “Actually, I wanted to apologize for being such a dick to you the other day.” He shifted his gaze an
d his footing. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
No, you shouldn’t have. “Okay.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Are you dating the guitarist—Patch or whatever his name is?”
My fingers itched to slap that smug look off his face. This was going to be one long day. “No, I’m not but I don’t see anything wrong with him. I mean he’s really hot.”
The tip of Benton’s lip twitched. “Well, we all have our standards now don’t we?”
Oh, I’m going end up whooping this dude’s ass!
“Shall we?” he gestured toward his Escalade.
I couldn’t even announce the name of the restaurant that Benton took me too. Some Italian place that was ‘to die for.’ I couldn’t imagine Paxton talking like that but since Paxton isn’t a super douche, I understood.
He did hold my chair out for me but soon that didn’t matter because he ordered for me.
“I’m glad I like tilapia,” I mumbled beneath my breath.
Benton leaned back against our booth and gave me a long uncomfortable glare that made my skin crawl. “You know, I heard they use to call you ‘Ice Queen’ in high-school?”
What? I put my drink down and stared down at my phone like he hadn’t said anything. “It’s rude to use your phone at the table.”
“It’s rude to bring up hurtful things from people’s past too, isn’t it?” I didn’t look up.
Benton scoffed and slammed his elbow down on the table. “Look at me, Missy. Please.”
God. Looking up, I saw something sad on his face and I froze. God, this wasn’t his fault. He had no idea I was with Paxton unless he took notice at the mall. “I’m sorry,” I said.
I had no idea what to tell him. When my dad went to ask him how the date went I couldn’t have Benton replying with ‘Missy said she has a boyfriend’. Or pissing Benton off and him telling my dad. Then I would have to listen to a three hour long lecture on ‘how to attract a good man,’ and get plucked away from Paxton forever.
Benton smiled, and it looked legit. “Let’s start over.” He gave me his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
I grinned. “Nice to meet you too.”
After we ate lunch which went by very easily, Benton took me to the university. Where we spent the better part of the day getting a tour. They took us around on golf carts from the dining hall to the dorm rooms and then around to some of the classroom buildings.
And I hated it.
My throat felt like fire because I wanted to cry. I wasn’t ready for this. Not everyone jumps right out of high-school and hightails it to college with their path already planned out. I just wanted to take some classes to see what I wanted to do.
Business wasn’t it, I already knew.
Benton hadn’t shut up since we got to the college. He only stopped when the tour guide said something which was also often. I needed silence to think.
“Okay, so are you hungry yet?”
I turned to look at Benton who had his arm wrapped around my shoulders. When had that happened? The tour guide was already gone and we were standing by his SUV.
“Um, sure. Yeah.”
He beamed and it looked a little too heated for talking about food. Opening the door for me he kept close behind me and lingered before shutting it.
“You don’t mind if we order Chinese do you?”
I furrowed my brow and looked at the clock that read six. I had to be back in two hours. Why would we get our food to-go? “Where are we eating this Chinese if we’re ordering it to-go?”
Benton picked at the invisible lint on his button-down shirt. “My apartment. Dad went ahead and got me one for the upcoming semester.”
His apartment. I tugged at the end of my cardigan. This was not a good idea. “Come on, Missy. Just for an hour so we can eat. What kind of date drops his girl off without feeding her, huh?”
Swallowing the nervous lump in my throat hurt like hell. I figured it was a silent warning on what was to come.
I was right.
***
Benton’s apartment was more of a condo in a gated part of the city that looked way too fancy for a college student. But we both knew he wasn’t paying for anything, his dad was.
He insisted on helping me out of his vehicle and holding the Chinese, so I let him. And when we stepped into his apartment my mouth nearly dropped open. If I hadn’t almost expected it to be brilliant I probably would have fainted.
The living room was as big as the top part of the tour bus, and the kitchen to the left was twice that size. “Welcome home,” Benton said. “Since we’re both going to Chicago you’ll be spending time over here too.” He winked at me over his shoulder.
I snorted softly, and ran my fingers over the piano in his apartment. “I didn’t know you played?”
Benton glanced over his shoulder from the kitchen. “Oh, I don’t.”
Then why would you have it? Frowning, I took a seat on the couch and waited awkwardly for him to return. Benton came in a few seconds later with two glasses of what looked like wine. He dropped them off and returned with our Chinese food a second later.
“I’m starving,” he said. I watched as he moved the ottoman and made us a place to eat on his living room floor.
“Is something wrong with the dining room table?” I asked.
Benton smirked. “Not at all. I just thought this would give us a chance to get to know one another better.”
Right. I might have been inexperienced but I knew he really wanted to get to know my lower regions better. Perve!
Biting my lower lip, I crawled and took a seat furthest away from Benton. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until we started eating.
“So, what’s up with you and the guitarist?” he asked over his chopsticks.
I nearly gagged on a noddle and he ended up having to slap my back to help me. “You okay?”
I nodded and straightened my posture. Taking notice that Benton had scooted closer to me. “There isn’t anything going on with us.”
Benton cocked a brow that looked like it had been waxed. I didn’t even know guys got their eyebrows waxed. Which made me think of how naturally perfect Paxton’s were.
“You’re zoning out again.”
Damnit! “I was just wondering why you would think we had a thing for each other.”
Benton narrowed his gaze and something tugged at my head. He looked—almost angry. “Have you been thinking that all day? Because you’ve zoned out several times already and I know you couldn’t tell me one thing we talked about at the university or dinner.”
My mouth opened but I snapped it shut. Because he was completely right. I had no idea what he was saying. His mouth was moving but nothing was coming out.
He rubbed his fingers through his dark hair and then scratched his smooth jaw. Facial hair would have looked amazing on him. Paxton had fac—God, I was doing it again.
“Why don’t you just forget about that for a little while okay? It’s just you and me here now. We’re meant to date, ya know?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Benton sighed, and turned toward me to cup my jaw. “Honey.” Yuck, I hated being called that. I wasn’t a child and he wasn’t fifty. “You have to understand that it’s important to our dads that we date. They’re working on collaborating Fringe and Switch. It’s important.”
Really? Now it all made sense. Dad forcing me to date Benton without a chaperone made sense because it would benefit himself. Bastard! I turned my face away from Benton’s and grabbed the go-phone Paxton got me. I sent a swift text to Paxton right before Benton snatched it from my fingers.
“What is your problem?” he barked out.
My blood ran cold. The angry look on his face had doubled—tripled. And his fingers were digging into my arm. “Let go,” I said.
Benton smiled and shook his head slowly. “Do you know how many girls would kill to be you right now, Missy King? I’m Benton Ferguson, and you’re acting like I’m no better th
an your fuck buddy Paxton on that tour bus.”
My arm was starting to burn, but when I tried to wiggle free he pulled me closer to him. His cologne was overwhelming me and I felt like gagging in his face. “Just let me go and I’ll catch a cab home.”
Paxton was already on his way to get me. My phone vibrated against the floor where Benton had tossed it. “Just let go.”
Benton shook his head, shoved me toward the floor and straddled my waist. No, no, no, no. Panic was setting in and my limbs started to thrash violently. “Settle down, Ice Queen. We’re going to melt some off of you.”
Benton leaned down and forced my mouth open with his own. A scream was in my throat but Benton swallowed it. I thrashed my arms but Benton easily grabbed them and pinned them above my head. His breath smelled like Chinese food causing bile to rise up my throat.
No, no, no, no. Everything was a blur. I took ragged breaths because of Benton’s weight on me. He growled and pressed down harder on me when I kicked my knee up into his back. “Bitch be still. You’d like it if you let me.”
The stars dancing in the corners of my eyes were blinding me but I could see the fork sitting beside us where we had eaten. Benton moaned against my mouth at the same time I bit down as hard as I could on his lip. The moan turned into an agonizing scream that got me a hard right hook.
Oh, more stars. Through dizzy eyes I found the fork with my fingers, reached up and dug it into his thigh. He rolled off of me and howled at the ceiling. But I was up and out of his apartment before he could stop yelling.
The sunlight was blinding me, and I stumbled a few times on the stairs on the way down. The railing was pressed against my stomach as I hung on for dear life. Blood was pouring down my cheeks and hitting my blouse.
Oh, God. My shirt was ripped showing my bra and half of my stomach. When had that happened? Once I hit the pavement I started running as fast as I could.
My phone was back at his apartment and I had nowhere to—
I slammed into someone hard and I wrapped myself in their arms. I was crying too hard to look up and see who it was.
“Sugar. Are you alright? What the fuck happened?”