Detour Complete Series

by Kacey Shea

  My mom goes on about the latest news, who is seeing whom, who is getting divorced, what book she’s reading in her club this month. I try to pay attention but it’s distracting not knowing where to sit or what to do while she jabbers about people I hardly remember. I “yes” and “oh, yeah” at all the appropriate places, but my mind wanders to the men down the hall. I wonder what they’re saying, doing, and when I hear the clatter of dishes, the telltale sign of making dinner, I wonder if they’ll leave any food for me.

  “Lexi, I need to tell you something.” Mom’s voice cuts through my thoughts. Her tone is pained. Uncomfortable. I go on alert and stop my pacing in front of the large built-in dresser that holds most of the band’s clothes.

  “What is it, Mom?”

  “It’s your dad.”

  “Don’t call him that.”

  “Baby, don’t do this. He’s your father,” she pleads. I’ve heard it all before.

  “Sperm donor. I don’t have a relationship with him, nor do I want one.”

  “He’s really sick, Lex.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s bad, Lexi. He only has a few weeks.” Her voice wavers and her sobs interrupt for a moment. “I don’t want you to live with regrets.”

  “No. No.” I shake my head and kick the dresser. Fuck. That hurt. “I’m not doing this right now.” I tilt my head because the bottom drawer, the one I just stubbed my toes on, has this tiny bit of fabric sticking out of the corner. Normal. Sloppy. Sure—but for the fact it’s bright pink and almost looks like lace. Much like my . . . Fuckers! I drop to the ground and yank the drawer out to reveal an entire stash of my undies—all my missing panties—shoved into this drawer. Oh, hell no!

  “Mom, I’ve got to go.” I grind out through clenched teeth.

  “Look, I respect your decision. You know I will. I just . . . If you can find a way to speak to him, or to come out here, to forgive him—”

  “Mom. I have to go. I’ll call you later,” I snap, my rage boiling inside.

  “Don’t shut me out, baby girl,” she presses with a whine.

  “I won’t. I really can’t talk now. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I end the call before she hears the anger that seethes through my body. With one hand I shove my phone in my back pocket, and with the other I grab a handful of my pilfered underwear and stomp out of the room.

  “You motherfuckers!” I scream. All eyes are on me when I hit the end of the hall. I hold my undies over my head and march to the table, throwing them down amongst the dirty plates.

  “Shit,” Sean whispers as if I can’t hear the fuckhead.

  “What. The. Fuck.” I meet each of their guilty stares, but my gaze lands back on Trent, along with with my fiercest scowl. “I said, what the fuck is this!” I scream like a lunatic but I don’t care.

  “Your panties?” His stare falls to the table.

  “Like you’re not sure? Hell yes, these are my goddamn panties!” I want to hit someone, kick something. I’m so pissed off I can’t see straight. “Why? Just tell me that!”

  Their eyes dart to each other, and for a second I’m not sure anyone will answer.

  “Because it was funny,” Austin confesses, fighting a smile when he stares at Trent.

  “Funny?” I repeat, at a complete loss.

  Sean stands from the table, his hands up in surrender and a sliver of fear etched in his eyes. “We’re sorry, Lex. We should’ve stopped.” He glances at Trent, so I settle my glare back on the lead man.

  He meets my gaze, nonchalant, and shrugs. “You’re like one of the guys. We pull shit like this all the time. Keeps life interesting.”

  “Interesting? This is entertaining for you? Were you all in on this?” My voice has never been this pitchy but I can’t seem to calm down.

  “Come on, Lexi. You have to admit it’s pretty fucking funny.” Austin chuckles and leans back in his seat. Iz joins in on the laughter but it’s all I can do to not slap the merriment off their stupid faces.

  “You all are assholes! I’ve been buying underwear at every fucking stop.”

  “You can have them back now.” Trent’s lips pull in an apologetic frown.

  I shake my head. “Throw them in the trash. I don’t want them. You sick bastards.” I stomp over to the kitchen and pull the lid off the pan at the stove. All that remains is maybe a spoonful of noodles. Idiots didn’t even save me dinner. I slam down the lid with a clang and take five full breaths before turning to face the table. My voice drops so low I almost frighten myself. “Never. Mess. With. Me. You all better sleep with one eye open.”

  They have the decency to appear scared. They should be.

  “And next time you make dinner, leave me a fucking plate.” I snatch back my notebook and climb into my bunk, pulling the curtain tight and putting my headphones on before I have to listen to one more damn word out of their stupid, immature mouths.

  They want to act like children? Fine. Game fucking on.

  17

  Trent

  The morning sun cracks through the opening in my small bedroom window and forces me to pry my eyes open. I consider rolling over to go back to sleep, but my grumbling stomach and parched mouth push me out of bed and into the kitchen.

  It’s quiet but for the occasional hum from the front of the bus where Danny’s at the wheel, and the heavy breaths of my sleeping bandmates—a soothing, familiar backdrop to life on the road. I love it when I beat everyone else awake, enjoy at least one cup of coffee in solitude, and watch the world blur by before another day begins.

  Filling the filter with grounds, I hit brew and wait not so patiently for the glass jug to fill. The sound of feet hitting the carpet and a grumbled “Morning” from Austin dashes my solo plans, but that’s bus living and thanks to the wing gods, at least I have a room to escape to.

  “You want a cup?” I say over my shoulder, tapping the counter in time with the drip of the brew.

  “Yeah. I’m gonna hit the head first,” he says and then disappears down the hall.

  I fill two mugs and return the pot to the warmer just as his shouts echo from the bathroom.

  “The fuck? Where the fuck are my eyebrows?”

  They say island life can drive a person to madness. Maybe a bus can do the same.

  Sean pokes his head from behind his curtain. “Tell him to shut up. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

  My eyes widen as soon as I meet his irritated stare. Holy shit. His eyebrows.

  “My fucking eyebrows!” Austin continues to holler from the bathroom and I immediately pull out my phone and flip the camera mode to find . . .

  “Shit!” My brows are jacked up, too. Almost as if someone took a razor and went all Edward Scissorhands on them. My left one is cut in a fade that almost resembles a lightning bolt. Sean climbs from his bunk and swipes my phone from my hands, apprehension etched into his brows along with a crescent moon.

  “No fucking way,” he grumbles when he views himself on the screen.

  Austin stomps out of the bathroom as Sean and I lift our chins. Oh, fuck! The two of us almost double over in laughter when we meet his angry expression and the completely absent eyebrows.

  “Who the fuck did this?” he growls.

  “Don’t look at me. Mine are jacked too!” But Sean’s lips are twisting up with a grin as laughter escapes.

  “At least you still have something left!” Austin screams, his brow pulling harder.

  “Dude, your forehead looks like one of those hairless cats!” Sean says.

  “Or a pug. Fuck, you look like a pug!” I add and I can’t stop laughing. Austin’s face pulls tighter and it makes him appear even more ridiculous.

  “I want to know who the fuck did this.”

  “I did.” Our heads snap over to Lexi. She’s in one of those giant sweatshirts again, looking sexy as fuck with a case of bedhead sending her blonde locks every which way. She holds up a pink razor and tilts her head as a ghost of a smile paints her plump lips. “Payback’s a bitch and so am I
if you keep touching my underwear.”

  “Not cool, Lexi! I have to go onstage like this!” Austin whines like a child.

  Sean shakes his head, still chuckling. “Well played. Well played.”

  Her lips pull up into a smile.

  “I’m gonna have to wear a fucking beanie for months.” Austin grabs his cup of coffee and takes a sip. “What about Iz? Did you fuck with him too? Wait, where is he?”

  I walk over to Iz’s bunk, right next to where Lexi stands, and lift the curtain for a peek. Man’s out cold but it’s not surprising. I don’t know what he took last night, but it wasn’t weed. I shake my head and let the curtain fall closed.

  Lexi straightens her spine. “Don’t worry. Iz got a makeover too,” she assures Austin and then meets my gaze. We’re close but I wish we were closer. I take a step and she lifts her chin, an obstinate hardness to her jaw as she glares. It’s her throat that gives her away, though. My eyes zero in on the way her skin moves with the swallow of her nerves.

  Austin continues to mutter complaints, but I can’t shake my gaze from the green irises that dare me to come closer still.

  “I won’t promise.” The words leave my lips in a whisper. Confusion knits her perfectly shaped brows.

  “What?” she retorts. Those lips pout as I take another step and invade the invisible barrier of her personal space.

  God damn, I want to kiss her. Just a little. Just a taste.

  Her eyelids flutter shut when I dip my chin. Maybe she wants me, too.

  I can’t do it, though. Instead, I allow my cheek to brush against hers until my lips are at the shell of her ear. I shouldn’t say a word. I shouldn’t allow myself the indulgence of watching her reaction.

  I’ve never been good at playing by the rules.

  “I won’t promise, and the next time I touch your panties it’s because you beg me to.”

  Her slap comes so fast and unexpected I don’t have a chance to block it. I rub the skin, but the sting holds more surprise than hurt. Austin and Sean’s jabbering ceases and I don’t have to turn around to know they’re watching with rapt attention.

  “I deserved that.” I can’t help but pull my lips up in a grin as I take a step back. I’m not into BDSM, but I’d be down for kinky fuckery with Lexi. Hell, I think this woman could make anything appealing.

  The furrow of her brow lifts. “I’m sorry,” she says but quickly amends, “Not for the eyebrows, but for the face slap.”

  Laughter from the guys joins in with my own. I reach out, grazing my fingers against the soft skin of her forearm for a brief touch. “All is forgiven, Lexi. You know we love you. Even when you go razor blade happy.”

  She rolls those eyes. I knew she would. And I step away before I’m tempted by them more than I already am. I need a shower. A freezing bucket of ice cold shower.

  There’s no show tonight so we roll along the stretches of highway until our driver Danny reaches his max. There are laws regarding how many hours he can drive and I’m glad our label is strict on adherence. We usually butt up shows close together and don’t get much down time, so when we do, we relish the freedom. We roll into a small town south of Richmond and Danny parks before checking in to the motel to sleep. We have the freedom to do the same, but since we have the option of sleeping in the bus, it’s more of a treat to go exploring.

  “There’s a gym down the street. Meet up for dinner?” Sean fist bumps Austin, then me on his way out, a gym bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Maybe we should go work out?” I suggest with little conviction. The idea of spending my free time locked inside four walls with a bunch of sweaty men is not at all pleasing.

  “Dinner is good. Text me.” Austin nods at Sean.

  Iz hustles out soon after with a mumbled good-bye. We’re pretty sure he uses these opportunities to score drugs, but we never ask him where exactly he goes or what he does. In case he ever gets into legal trouble, I want my hands clean.

  “I actually need to take care of a few things,” Austin says, not quite meeting my eyes. He grabs a backpack from inside his bunk and tries to slide past.

  “Hold up.” I grab his arm before he can leave. “Where you sneaking off to?”

  “I’ve just got some things to take care of.”

  “Dude, you’re being shady as fuck.”

  “Am not.” He glances at Lexi, and I do the same. She steps out of the bathroom dressed in a plain black tee and those ripped jeans that leave a man hoping for a flash of skin through the worn threads. An inappropriate game of hide and go seek. When my gaze meets Lexi’s irritated stare I turn back to Austin.

  “You are. Why so secretive?”

  “Can’t a man take a break around here without giving out his damn itinerary!”

  “What is it? A tinder date? A little afternoon delight?” I tease.

  “No!”

  “Probably just gonna rub one out in the McDonald’s across the street,” Lexi says. Her lips pull to one side and her shoulders lift in a shrug.

  “I’ve taken enough harassment for one day!” Austin shouts. He beelines for the exit.

  “We’ll resume this conversation at dinner!” I yell back and he flips us the bird. I turn to Lexi and hold up my hand. “Nice one.”

  She smiles and slaps my palm. “I do what I can.”

  I glance around the empty bus. “Looks like you’re stuck with me. Danny’s coming back to lock up in a few minutes. What should we do?”

  She sighs, her eyes flutter closed, and irritation’s etched on her face when they reopen. “I’m not stuck with anyone, Trent.”

  “You really aren’t, are you?” I study her with my full attention, not only the physical beauty, but her tenacity and drive as well. Everything she is and everything she’s accomplished in a short time and all on her own is more than impressive. My stare holds a little too long and her nervous flick of her lip ring pulls me out of my daydream. She probably wants to ditch me too, but I’m ready to convince her otherwise. “Honestly though, what do you have planned today?”

  She shakes her head and blows out a full breath. “I don’t even know. I haven’t had a day off since I can remember. This tour feels like a vacation most of the time as it is.”

  I clap my hands together and let a smile take over my lips. “That needs to be rectified ASAP. Lexi Marx, I’m going to give you the best afternoon off you’ve ever had.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I just told you I’ve never had one, so the bar is set pretty low.”

  “That’s how I like to start things. Low. And then I move my way up until all your expectations have exploded.”

  My words narrow her hard stare and her hands go to her hips. “I’m not having sex with you, Trent.”

  “Dirty mind.” I reach over and ruffle her hair but she ducks out of my reach before I cause any damage. “I wasn’t even thinking about sex. Fuck. Now I am.” And really, it’s the truth. I don’t even try to disguise the fact I have to adjust myself in my jeans.

  “And that’s my cue. Have a good afternoon, Trent.”

  “Wait. No. Come on, Lex. Give me a chance to wow you. I promise it’ll be fun. Even without acts of sexual gratification.” When her black laced boots stop their retreat I know I have her. “Please.”

  She turns just before descending the steps and considers my face. Her lips twist into a little pout. It’s so fucking cute, but I don’t dare tell her. She’d never agree to spend the day with me then. Instead, I clasp my hands in front of my chest, begging her to consent.

  “Fine. Okay. Show me the grandeur that is . . . Where are we again?”

  I laugh, taking three long strides so I’m right behind her as she walks out of the bus and into the fresh outdoor air. “Fuck, I don’t even know. Let’s go.” I nod and wave for her to follow, and take a few steps toward the main road.

  Her laughter trails behind me. “Then how are you gonna show me around?”

  “Trust me, Lexi. Just trust me.” And my hope is she will.

  �
��You don’t know how happy it makes me that we’ve found something you suck at.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I offer a smile and a wink to the pretty little thing who hands over the ice cream cones, her wide eyes like saucers because she totally recognizes who I am. “Thank you,”—I glance down to her name tag—“Andrea.” I’m glad I have a good hold on the cones because I’m pretty sure she’d have dropped them. Poor thing is fangirling hard. She can’t be much older than eighteen.

  “Come on.” Lexi grabs my elbow and steers me toward the exit. “Stop looking at her. She’s gonna have a heart attack.”

  “I’m aware. Here.” I hand her the chocolate dipped cone and we find an open bench. I lick the plain vanilla in my hand, sweeping my tongue around the entire thing, a closely timed battle against the melting goodness.

  Lexi bites—full on bites—into the top of her cone and I shudder.

  “She should have seen you on the hoverboard. Would’ve blasted your cool exterior out of her impressionable mind for good.” She smiles between messy bites of ice cream mixed with chocolate, and her upper lip gathers some of the cream.

  “I’m fucking tall, okay?” I say in mock outrage. Earlier, we walked around this town until we came across a little rental store. My vote was for a tandem bike, but Lexi wouldn’t have it. We finally agreed on hoverboards, and I tipped the guy really well to forego coming along as a tour guide. Bad move on my part because I could not figure the damn thing out. While I struggled with the stupid device, Lexi rode mocking circles around me all afternoon.

  “Really? Tall? How about severely uncoordinated?” Her smile grows until it takes over her whole face, much as it has all day. A sight I’m growing addicted to by the second, even with ice cream and chocolate smeared across it.

  I’m blaming my inability to master the hoverboard-easy-enough-for-children-my-ass on my long legs. Lame, I know, but I’m sticking with the defense. “No way. I’m full of coordinated talents,” I say and before she can roll her eyes, I stretch my tongue out as far as it will go. I twist it through the ice cream of my cone, swirling it around to lick up the soft sweet treat.