With the Band (With the Band #1)

by Natasha Preston

  PARIS, FRANCE

  Two things.

  One, tonight has been the best night of my life.

  Two, I think Kitt is bipolar.

  I’m not trying to be a bitch here, but his behaviour swings from one extreme to the next with absolutely no notice and seemingly no reason. I think we’re good and maybe getting somewhere, and then the barriers go up, and he acts like I’m an annoying little sister.

  It’s giving me a headache.

  But the way he kissed me tonight, right in front of one of the most romantic places on earth, has given me hope. We can’t go back to how things were, not after tonight. Right now, we’re good. Kitt is like the most fun and scariest roller coaster ride I’ve been on, and although I know, for the sake of my sanity, I should get off, I can’t.

  He made it impossible for me to give up when he turned on the romance.

  “She’s going to die. So is she. And him,” Kitt says.

  The movie has only just started, but it’s a horror, and the teens will start getting picked off soon. His arm is around me, and I’m tucked into his side. It’s the most natural position we’ve ever been in together.

  “Yeah, and she’s going to be the sole survivor,” I add, curling my arm around his chest. If I’m wrong, I’m going to be pissed off. As much as I love it when a film breaks the rules, I hate it, too. I let myself like the one I think will survive, and when that person dies…

  It’s the reason I have to have someone hold my hand while I watch The Walking Dead. They don’t give a shit who they kill.

  “Are you going to get angry if you’re wrong?” Kitt asks, smirking. He knows me well.

  I lazily bump his shoulder with my head. “Yep.”

  He laughs and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

  See? This is more than friendship.

  “Thought so. You hate to be wrong about this stuff.”

  “Of course. You’d hate to be wrong about something musical.”

  “TV isn’t your career, Tex.”

  Might as well be.

  I squeeze his middle again. I like it, like how he feels. “So, Mr Rock Star, are you happy with the way things are going? All I see on social media is how awesome you guys are.”

  “It’s amazing,” he says against my hair where he places yet another kiss.

  I’m so not getting bored of that anytime soon. It feels too good.

  “I never thought it’d be like this. You know, I was always happy with where we were. Earning enough through music has been my goal. Of course I wanted to sell out stadiums, but as long as I was doing what I loved for a living, I was content. This is so much more than I could’ve imagined.”

  “You deserve it. I love Filthy Sound, and you all work so hard.”

  He kisses my head again.

  Don’t jump him.

  “Thanks. I love it. I really do.”

  “I wish I had something I really loved. I still have no idea what I want to do.” I’m surrounded by people who knew their dream careers from when they were in the bloody womb. In my nineteen years, I still haven’t figured it out.

  Every day, I’m with successful people, and I’m over here, proud that I can watch an entire series on Netflix in a few days. That’s my life.

  I need more.

  But what?

  Unless Netflix is hiring, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I’m good at.

  Maybe Netflix is hiring. You need to check on that.

  “Go find it. You have so many opportunities, more than others, but you’ve not had the opportunity to explore them.”

  “Is this your way of telling me that you don’t want me on the tour?” I joke, making light of something that is so on point that my stomach rolls with discomfort.

  There are people who would kill to be in my situation, and I’ve been wasting the chances I have. I’m in a unique position. There’s not much a phone call couldn’t get me, especially if it came from my dad. That kind of seems like cheating, but people see my name or recognise me, and I am given stuff. It’s a stupid thing to bitch over, but I bet getting whatever I want isn’t nearly as rewarding as earning what I want. Despite Jennifer’s failed attempts at being a mother, she did build a career for herself even though name-dropping my dad had probably helped her along.

  Ugh, I don’t know.

  Plus, the idea of leaving Kitt now makes me want to, like, die or something just as dramatic.

  “Of course it’s not. I want you here, but more than that, we all want you to be happy.”

  “I’m not unhappy.” Not in my daily life, but something is missing. I want to get so passionate that I put in every ounce of everything to make whatever it is a success.

  How do you decide what you want to do?

  “Besides, I have no clue what I’d do. I don’t want to do anything with my degree. What would I do?”

  He bites the inside of his cheek while he thinks. It’s sexy.

  “You’re one of the most caring people I know. Doctor?”

  “No, I wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face if I had to look at people’s parts.”

  He laughs and the arm on the back of the chair creeps down closer to my shoulders. I like that. The movie is forgotten. His focus is on me, and although I know it’s temporary, I’m going to enjoy it.

  “Actress?”

  “Yeah, can’t act.” Although I’m doing a stellar job of acting like I’m not in love with him. In two years, only two people have guessed—Will and Peyton. Though it must be obvious to Kitt now, surely?

  “Singer? You have an amazing voice.”

  “I can sing, but how cliché would that be? Daughter of rock star releases first single. Yeah, no one will see that coming…” I roll my eyes.

  Kitt laughs again. It’s rough and hot as hell, and it does things to my insides that make me want to go to bed—preferably with him, but B.O.B. would do, too.

  “You can’t choose a career based on what people will think.”

  “I know. Honestly, I don’t want a career in music though. I think I prefer music to be something I love, not something I have to work tirelessly for.”

  He gives me a nod because he knows how much work it is even though, to him, it’s more than worth it.

  Lifting one eyebrow, he looks down at my body. “Model?”

  “Looking good all the time really isn’t where my talents lie.”

  “You could not be more wrong there.”

  Is it just me, or did it get seriously hot in here?

  My mouth has gone dry, and I’m unable to form words. Nothing will come out. When he says things like that, he makes me feel nervous. I am usually confident and have no issues with speaking my mind. Around Kitt, I can be so painfully shy sometimes.

  He could reject me, and I wouldn’t have a clue as to how to deal with that.

  “Oh, first one is about to be killed,” I say, glancing back at the screen as the music turns chilling.

  I’m not looking at him, but I can feel his eyes are still on me.

  Keep watching the TV.

  I want to kiss him again so bad that I have to dig my nails into the palms of my hands to refrain from reaching where they shouldn’t. The need pulses through my body. My breathing takes on a new pace—bloody fast—and I feel lightheaded.

  How’s that even possible? You can’t breathe fast and not at all at the same damn time. And I don’t know if it’s the breathing thing or not, but I feel like gravity has upped and fucking left. How does he make me feel like I’m defying the laws of everything?

  Concentrate on the TV. He can’t look at you forever. Even he will know the time has come to look away or risk being a creep.

  Everything is fine. Totally fine.

  It’s so not fucking fine that I want to face-plant on concrete.

  I’m itching to look at him. My skin feels too tight. I need…something.

  He’s so very close. I can feel his breath as his chest moves faster. Is he having the same problems as me? We k
issed not even an hour ago, so I don’t know why I’m so scared.

  Well, I do. It took him five months after the first time to kiss me again or even acknowledge it.

  Maybe I should pretend I need the bathroom and give us both a minute?

  But my legs won’t move. I will them to get up, but every single part of me wants him, anything that he’s willing to give. And that’s exactly why I can’t.

  I won’t be the type of girl who hurts herself for a few stolen moments with a man who doesn’t want more. There will never be anything casual about Kitt to me, so as much as I want to feel his lips, his…well, all of him, I won’t allow myself, not unless I know he’s in this properly.

  Heartbreak won’t look good on me.

  Move your arse right now.

  “Do you want a beer?” I ask, still staring straight ahead.

  All I need to do is get him to snap out of it. He’s the one causing the problem.

  “No, thanks,” he whispers in a husky voice that is just sex.

  Well, shit.

  With my heart thumping, I turn my head against my better judgement. It’s not just his voice that is pure sex tonight. His eyes are burning.

  You need to put a stop to this right now.

  I squirm on the spot and kick my legs up under my butt. I’m aching. My nipples harden and strain against the light padding in my bra.

  His head tilts a fraction, like he’s getting in the optimum position to kiss me. I mimic the action but the other way.

  Dangerous. This is dangerous. Abort. Abort!

  What will you do if this is just a repeat of the last times he kissed you or crossed the line and then switched back to being your bestie?

  Remembering how badly my heart aches for him is all I need.

  “I’ll get those beers,” I say, jumping up like I’ve just been burned.

  He didn’t even want a beer. Tough now.

  Kitt clears his throat, but I don’t look back. I head to the kitchen, determined to get wasted and forget what almost happened back there. Again.

  Ha! The idea that I could forget anything with him is hilarious.

  But I’m making the right decision here. It would have been so easy to kiss him there, but afterward would’ve hurt worse than ever.

  Relationships can’t be this complicated, surely? Definitely not, or no one would bother with it.

  I wrench the minibar open with so much anger and frustration that I almost pull the door clean off. I don’t need a lecture about damaging property from my dad, so I make sure to close it nicely after grabbing two beers. A stronger drink sounds good about now, but there’s nothing strong enough to stop the way my body is throbbing with need for Kitt.

  I’m so sexually frustrated that I could scream.

  When I turn to go back, Kitt is staring at the TV, like his life depends on it—or like it’s porn.

  Okay, things have escalated quickly, like they tend to do with us, and I need to do something to lighten it up. This can’t be how we are around each other. I hate the uncertainty. If we can’t be together, I can accept that, but what I can’t accept is anything less than a best friend because that’s what he’s come to be to me. There’s no one that I feel so comfortable around—present situation excluded—and we can’t lose that because of a kiss and a near miss.

  It’s not worth it.

  New rule: Unless he tells you he wants more with you, don’t go there. No more Eiffel Tower kisses or kisses of any other kind. You’re going to be strong.

  I thump down on the sofa with full force, and he cracks a smile. Handing him a beer, I kick back and hope that he’ll get on board with getting us back to normal. He will want that, too. We’re too close to be distant.

  “Thanks,” he mutters as he finally looks up.

  His cocky smirk is back—thank God—and he looks like my Kitt again.

  That’s all I need right this second. The rest, I can work out—or try to—later.

  “I didn’t open them. Can you do them with your mouth?” I ask.

  He gives me a wink. “I can do anything with my mouth.”

  Yep, he’s definitely normal again.

  “Really, Kitt?” I say dryly.

  “I’ve gotten women off with the first—”

  I slap his arm. “We don’t need to go there.”

  “Prude.”

  Rolling my eyes, I thrust my beer at him. That needs to be opened right the hell now. I’m having horrible, horrible mental images that are making me feel sick.

  How much damage can bleach really do to your eyes?

  Chuckling, he takes the bottle and pops the lid with his teeth. I’d be too scared of breaking one, so I’m never going to attempt it.

  “Here, baby.”

  Baby?

  Swoon.

  KITT

  MONDAY, MAY 11

  GERMANY

  We’re back on the bus, and we have just entered Germany. Soon, we’ll be arriving in Berlin.

  Paris was incredible. The people and the fans have been amazing. I’m in love with the city. It was our first stop on the tour and the first time a kiss has meant so much.

  France will always have my heart.

  So will Texas.

  Right now, Tex is sitting in her rightful place beside me.

  Although we’ve not discussed the kiss at the Eiffel Tower and it’s not happened since, we both know our relationship has changed. I’m okay to take things slow and figure it out though. As much as I’d love to spend every second with my hands all over her, we have to handle this properly, and that means taking our time.

  I need time to get my head straight because it’s all over the place, and it has been for a while.

  I’m not sure if anyone else has noticed anything—Mark certainly hasn’t—because we’ve barely left each other’s side, but no one has uttered a word. Milo has been quiet on the subject, and that’s because he tends to let people figure out their own shit and only steps in to help if asked.

  “Peyton is coming soon, yeah?” Cooper asks Texas. He’s obsessed with the pretty blonde and determined to fuck her, much to Peyton’s disgust.

  Texas glares. “Portugal. Leave her alone.”

  “Hey, I’ll not do anything she doesn’t want.”

  “She doesn’t want anything.”

  “Please, everyone wants some of this.” Coop gestures to his cock, making us all reach over to slap him.

  Dickhead.

  Texas twists her body, blocking him out, making it me and her. She is stunning.

  “What’s the first thing you’re going to do in Germany then?” I ask her.

  “Sleep. I’m tired.”

  Yeah, we didn’t sleep much last night. Nothing happened, not because of lack of wanting, but we stayed up all night, talking about crap and not watching whatever movie came on next. I think it was around five a.m. when we finally fell asleep. She lay on my chest until we woke up a couple of hours later. I could do that every night and never get bored.

  “Me, too,” I whisper.

  Did that sound like an invitation? Like I was asking her to sleep with me again? Because it kind of was.

  Her mouth kicks up at the side, and her eyes turn playful. I start to get hard.

  Do not stand up.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Yep, she definitely took it how it was intended.

  “What are you two whispering about?” Mark asks, sitting down opposite of us.

  Shit.

  Tex is instantly on the lie, and she’ll probably feel horrible about it. “All the room service we’re ordering the second we get to the hotel.”

  I feel a stab of guilt as he looks at me like I’m not a daughter-kissing prick.

  I don’t think I’ve ever told one lie to my grandparents, mostly because they were so open and we had a truth-only rule, much like Mark and Texas. I’m the reason she’s broken it, and that doesn’t feel good.

  But the truth isn’t something Mark would take well. In fact, he’d fuckin
g freak. And rightly so.

  You made him a promise.

  “Is that all you think about?” Mark asks.

  She blinks before replying, “Yes. What are you planning on doing when we get to the hotel?”

  “We have a meeting with Carl.”

  “Ugh, all of us?”

  “No, Enigma. Jodie will be in Berlin this evening. Are you attending that meeting with Filthy Sound?”

  “Absolutely. I’m going to tell her they’ve been terrible and see what happens.”

  She would as well.

  I nudge her leg under the table. It’s the only part of us hidden, so it’s the only physical contact we can have, but I’ll take it. Texas looks up at me through her eyelashes, and my breath catches.

  I’m damn crazy about her, and there’s nothing I can do to change that now.

  Mark laughs. “She’ll believe you over them.”

  “Oh, I know. I can’t wait to get to Berlin.”

  Our trip to Germany is going to be short. It’s two days, and we have shows on both of them, same as France. It’s a similar story on the rest of the tour, except we mostly have one-nighters. There is a lot of traveling in a short space of time, and although I do worry about crashing and burning, this is the best way.

  The album has been released, and we need to hit as many cities in as many countries to get it out there. I want Filthy Sound to explode. I want number ones. I want to make my—our—dream come true.

  We will do it. I don’t give up on something I want.

  Texas will find that out.

  TUESDAY, MAY 12

  BERLIN, GERMANY

  The first show in Berlin was everything we’d hoped for. The crowd was incredible, and the fans backstage were just as passionate about Filthy Sound as we are.

  Carver Harvey, a big name in the industry, is hosting the after-party in his place in Berlin. There’s a club in his cellar. He’s well-known for his extravagance, so it comes as no surprise when I see the gold-plated walls encrusted with diamonds.

  Tex is eyeing it up, like she thinks she’ll get away with chipping one of them out.

  The ceiling is pitch-black with hundreds of lights, making it look like the night’s sky. The bar doubles as a tropical fish tank.

  I wouldn’t even be able to take a wild guess at the cost of it all.