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With the Band (With the Band #1)

Page 29

by Natasha Preston

“Whatever would we talk about anyway?”

  “You’re not cute when you do that.” She links my arm, and I laugh.

  My phone vibrates again. I need to look at it, or catching up tomorrow is going to be impossible. Peyton grabs it out of my hand and slips it into her bag.

  Okay. “What the hell?”

  She frowns. “Well, you’re enjoying yourself. No need to check this.”

  “It’s blowing up, Pey. I want to make sure everything’s okay.”

  “Everything is fine,” she says far too fast.

  Something is wrong. Her pale eyes are shifty, and she can’t look directly at me.

  “Peyton Esmeralda Best!”

  Coop’s head flies in her direction. He’s sitting with Kitt now at our table. “Your middle name is Esmeralda?”

  “Fuck off,” she snaps at him. “Enjoy yourself, Tex. Worry about this tomorrow.”

  Kitt gets up and holds his hand out. With a sigh, she hands it over. My heart is in my throat as I watch him unlock my phone. Peyton is being weird for a reason, and it has Kitt concerned. That means, I’m worried.

  What’s going on?

  “What?” I ask, feeling ice settle in my stomach.

  “Fuck’s sake!” Kitt spits through gritted teeth. His jaw twitches where he’s clenching it so hard.

  “Show me,” I demand.

  Taking a breath, he hands me the phone.

  “What the hell is this?” I whisper, shaking my head.

  Kitt cups my cheek. “It’s not true, baby. I swear to you.”

  “Yeah, I know that. Why can’t people leave us alone?”

  “What’s going on?” Cooper peers over my shoulder.

  “Some girl is claiming she’s pregnant with Kitt’s baby,” I explain. “Apparently, it happened after that concert in February.” That explains the weird questions when we left the premiere.

  I look at the woman in question and gulp. She looks familiar. Kitt did sleep with her that night. Well, he went home with her, so I assume they didn’t drink tea and play Monopoly.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Texas, so don’t go there. I’m always careful. No exceptions. Right from the start, Mark warned us what could happen, so I’ve always checked condoms afterward, too. Her baby isn’t mine.”

  “He’s right, Texy,” Coop says. “None of us would risk this shit. The woman clearly wants her fifteen minutes.”

  Kitt’s eyes are wild. He’s petrified that I won’t believe him, but I do. This sort of thing happens too often. I’ve been through it with Will and my dad, too. Kitt would never risk getting someone pregnant. Dad definitely would’ve scared them half to death and made sure they knew to be overly cautious.

  “Okay.” I hand my phone back to Peyton and pull Kitt toward me. “This is no surprise. Some women do this. Next week, I’ll be having an affair or something equally ridiculous.”

  He slides his hands around my back. “So, you’re okay? We’re okay?”

  “We’re better than okay. Neither of us can control what people say, but we can control what we believe. I trust you over anyone else, and I don’t care what anyone says about all this.”

  “You mean, your dad?”

  “He’ll know she’s lying, too.”

  He bends his head and kisses me. He’s tense still, and I know it’s because he hates things being written about him. He stresses so much, worrying that I’ll eventually believe a rumour. I used to care what was written about me, but over time, it has become the norm. People will always have an opinion, and they will always say things to get attention or make themselves feel better. What I won’t do is ever lower myself to a point where I believe lying strangers over the people I love and trust.

  “Can we get out of here? I want you to myself,” he murmurs against my lips.

  “Definitely. I have some making up to do, remember?”

  He smirks. “As if I’d forget.”

  KITT

  WEDNESDAY, JUNE 24

  NEW YORK

  The last ten days have been hell. Half the world is behind me, and the other half thinks I’m a bastard for denying my child. People who don’t know me or the women hell-bent on destroying my life are judging and picking sides.

  Lindsay, my publicist, has released a statement, denying that I’m the father, and she’s advised me not to mention it at all. She’s also made it very clear that I’m not to be questioned on it during interviews or any other appearances. The woman is a legend, and as hard as this is, she’s been making it a lot easier.

  Texas has been hounded with messages of support, sympathy, or abuse. She is the true innocent person and the only one I give a fuck about. When someone says something about her, I feel like going fucking postal.

  I hold her close as we walk out of the airport. Cameras click, and the flashes coming from so many make me wince. Texas looks up, and her eyes are wide. She’s scared. There are more people here than what we were exposed to in England.

  Ted and Hank pull closer, and Lars steps behind us. We have four other guys here, too, and they closely shadow Enigma, Milo, and Coop.

  I’m bumped to the side as security fights to keep the crowd at bay. I clamp my arm around Texas and pull her in front of me.

  Her name is being screamed almost as loudly as mine. It would seem that not everyone is here to shout shit though. There’s a lot of, “I love you,” in there as well.

  But it’s too much. I’m not naive. I know how things can get, but this is insanity. I step in line with her.

  Texas smiles as she wraps her arm around me. She doesn’t care what they say. I don’t care.

  You do care. You care that they’re saying shit about the woman you love.

  “Kitt, can I have an autograph?”

  “Can we get a picture?”

  “We love you!”

  “You’re a disgrace.”

  “How does it feel to know your boy fucks other women?”

  I tighten my grip on Tex. She heard that, but it doesn’t show. Her smile never falters as we push our way through the suffocating crowd. Ted’s arms come out as a group beside us lunges forward. I’m jolted to the side, and Texas slips through my arm, crashing to the floor.

  Fuck.

  I taste bitter anger on my tongue as I bend down to get her. Ted is already there, and Tex is pushing herself up. Laughing, she shakes her head.

  How can she laugh?

  Ted practically elbows everyone else in our way. Mark takes charge of Tex and hauls her into the car. I’m left a few steps behind, feeling like shit. I stumble forward with ice in my stomach. Milo claps my back as I get in the limo.

  What the fuck am I going to do?

  Closing my eyes, I rub my hand over my face, trying to formulate a plan. It’d be nearly impossible to get everyone to believe that I’m telling the truth and to respect our personal fucking space. I’m public property now.

  Texas scoots over and pulls my arm down.

  “I’m so sorry, Tex.”

  “I fell over myself, Kitt. I’ve fallen over nothing at all plenty of times. That’s no one’s fault but Dad’s and Jennifer’s dodgy genes.”

  Mark looks over but doesn’t bite. I can’t tell if he’s pissed or not. He’s always watching, always judging whether I stack up or not. I usually think I do all right, but today, I failed.

  I fucking let her fall!

  “Kitt, please, don’t beat yourself up over this.”

  Her hand reaches out, and I grip her wrist.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  And it’s all your fault.

  “Oh.” She looks down at her grazed palm and winces. “Damn, I didn’t even feel it.”

  “There a first aid box in here, mate?” Ted asks the driver.

  “Kitt, there’s barely even cut. You look like I’ve just sliced my head down to the skull.”

  All I can see is a thin string of red trickling from the graze. The blood sitting in the open skin has already started to clot, and it’s not seeped out past a few
millimetres, but I’m the reason it happened. She’s right. It’s a small cut that probably doesn’t even hurt, but she’s my girl, I love her, and it kills me that I’ve caused her to bleed. No one wants to see someone they love even have a headache.

  I feel everyone’s eyes on me, waiting for a reaction, trying to work out why this is so hard for me. Even Mark is dealing fine, and she’s his daughter. But this isn’t his fault.

  “You’re okay?” I ask.

  “I’m fine. I’ve had worse.”

  That’s not the point. This shouldn’t have happened at all. It wouldn’t have if there weren’t so many people.

  That fucking lying whore and her rumours.

  She’s going to ruin your relationship.

  She’s not. I won’t let Tex go.

  I’ve never felt anything so strong as what I feel for her. Texas changed the game for me, and I don’t ever want to go back to the person I was before her. She’s made me into the person I was always supposed to be. She was made to be mine. We’re two halves of a whole, and the thought of living my life without her by my side makes my skin burn in rage. I’m fucking terrified that she’ll decide she’s enough. She’s done this public property thing longer, since birth, but I’ve changed things for her, too.

  Everything about Filthy Sound is hot news right now. We’ve exploded onto the scene. Last week, Cooper coughing on-screen for a morning show sparked a Twitter meltdown of fucking well-wishing and swooning. I’ve turned Texas from daughter of a rock star to girlfriend of one, and that is a lot juicer.

  “Can we just get to the hotel, please?” I snap as I tug her closer.

  Get ahold of yourself.

  Texas sighs into my chest and holds out her hand, so Ted can tend to the cut that rips through my heart.

  It’s a fucking graze, you moron. She. Is. Fine.

  We ride the rest of the way in silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, but no one feels particularly chatty, not even Cooper.

  Thankfully, the hotel is free of any gatherings outside, and we head straight inside and up to our rooms.

  I had Texas’s rooms cancelled for the rest of the tour, as we’ll be sharing. Mark wasn’t happy, but Texas is very good at getting around him. Once the door is closed behind us, I finally feel the tension evaporate.

  “Are we going to talk about what happened, Kitt? You completely overreacted back there. Accidents happen, especially when I’m not looking where I’m going!”

  “We were pushed, Tex. That’s why you fell.”

  “I’d already corrected myself by then. I tripped a second later.”

  “And you wouldn’t have done that if it wasn’t for me.”

  She rolls her pretty hazel eyes that I love so much. “And it wouldn’t have happened if I’d taken Milo’s offer of a piggyback or been born to different people. Don’t be ridiculous, Kitt. I’m supposed to be the mindfuck one, remember?”

  I smirk. “Oh, you still are. And you know what fucks me up even more?”

  “Go on…”

  “These goddamn shorts.” I trace the line where leather meets skin.

  Laughing, she wraps her arms around my neck. “I don’t even like them. I like the effect they have on you.”

  She smiles, and her eyes sparkle in a flirtatious way that makes my dick harden.

  “All of you has that effect on me. It only takes a look. Fuck, waking up and smelling your scent before I even see you makes me rock solid.”

  Her breathing is thick and heavy, and her eyes gloss over with lust.

  Fuck. I pounce.

  TEXAS

  SATURDAY, JUNE 27

  ONTARIO, CANADA

  It’s been four days since the incident at the airport. Kitt shouted at a lot of people, and now, he has even more big, burly men with us. The photo of me tripping and making a twat out of myself is all over the web. If I become a meme, I’m going to lose it.

  I try to stay positive because, really, there’s nothing we can do, and I won’t let anyone else dictate a thing in my life, but Kitt isn’t okay. I hate the stress lines around his eyes, the permanent clench of his jaw, and the dullness in his eyes. I also stay positive because the way things have exploded is my fault. There wouldn’t be half of the problems we’d been having if Kitt wasn’t in a relationship.

  When Kitt is seen with me, it becomes about our relationship and then about how I’m handling the news. He went to the shows in Tennessee and Illinois alone, and the crowds were mostly about him and the band. I’d stayed at the hotel with Ted.

  I’m the trigger, but I can also defuse the bomb.

  So, I know what I need to do. But the very idea makes my heart ache so hard that it leaves me breathless. Not only would I be away from Kitt and my dad, but I’d also be pretty much alone. I don’t like being alone. I’d do it for him though. I see how crazy worried he is every time I have to go out in public.

  He has to leave for sound check in ten minutes, and he’s pacing our hotel suite.

  “Kitt!”

  “I’ll have Ted bring someone else along with Lars and Hank for you.”

  “Kitt!” I snap. “Will you stop?”

  He’s turned into a version of my dad. And I think he might be worse. He won’t let up on anything, and he’s obsessed with making sure I’m never hurt again. Seriously, I only tripped and grazed my hand, but he acts like I was knocked unconscious.

  “How can I stop? You were hurt!”

  “I tripped.”

  “Because of the crowd, Texas.”

  Oh my God, we have this argument on repeat.

  “There is always a crowd and always will be.” I step forward. “Kitt, you have to get past this. My life will never be normal, and I’m fine with that. Why aren’t you?”

  “Because you were hurt!” he shouts. “You don’t know how bad that fucking feels. I wanted to kill every bastard who’d hurt you.”

  I rub my forehead. No one hurt me, but he’s not getting that.

  “Kitt, I’m going home.”

  His head rears back, as if I hit him. “You’re fucking, what?”

  “Please, hear me out before you turn swear-y.”

  “You’re not running. We have nothing to be ashamed of!”

  “I’m not ashamed of you. I believe you when you say you’ve not done something, Kitt, and I’m on your side. But can you honestly say that you’re enjoying the tour right now? Whenever we step outside, you’re practically paralysed by fear of something happening to me. You should be living life to the fullest. Filthy Sound is everywhere right now, and that’s what you have to focus on. Forget that woman because her lies will come out by her own choice or through DNA. Enjoy this, Kitt. Please, please go back to a few weeks ago when you were having the time of your life.”

  He steps closer, pressing his forehead to mine. He’s determined and a bit pissed off. His eyes are burning a hole in mine. “The time of my life has you in it.”

  “I’m not going anywhere—well, except to England. But I’ll be waiting for you when you get back. You have a month in the States and Canada, and then you’re home for a while before Australia. It’s not like you don’t have time off coming up. This is how it works for a lot of people. Not everyone can drop everything and tour.”

  “I don’t give a fuck how other people do things. I won’t have you being chased away because of some fame-hungry bitch.”

  “She’s not chasing me away. I’m choosing to do the best thing for you and the band. We can’t be selfish, Kitt. This affects everyone.”

  He pushes away and stalks back and forth, his chest expanding in long, hard breaths. I hate to see him like this, but I keep myself locked in place, not sure if it’s best to leave him when he looks like he’s about to go off.

  Kitt has never been the best at handling his emotions or even understanding them half of the time.

  Soon after we first met, it was the anniversary of his parents’ deaths, and he spent the whole night ignoring Milo’s and Cooper’s pleas to stop drinking and go with
one of them to talk. He told everyone he was fine, and he ended up puking on himself outside the club before passing out.

  He was supposed to be okay, like he’s supposed to be okay now. When he can’t control something, he spirals.

  He reaches for the mini bar, and I know what’s coming next. His coping mechanism has always been to drink. It’s effective until it wears off.

  “Do you think that will help?”

  “Yep,” he grinds out through his teeth. The muscles in his arms look like stone as he grabs a tiny bottle of Jack Daniels.

  “Stop.”

  Spinning around, he steps toward me, and his eyes darken. And he erupts. “What the fuck do you want me to do, Texas? I’m trying. I’m trying to make things better. I’m trying to be strong for you. I’m trying to give you a fucking normal relationship, but obviously, I can’t fucking do it, so just tell me what I’m supposed to do here!”

  With my stomach tossing over, I pad closer, keeping my eyes fixed on his. Midnight blue softens, the closer I get, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders.

  “Kitt, I love that you’re so passionate and that you think from here,” I say, placing my hand over his thumping heart. “But, sometimes, you have to think with your head. It will never be as magnificent or soul-searing, but on occasion, it’s the only thing to do. You can’t always lead with your heart. There has to be balance.”

  My throat seals closed, and tears prick my eyelids. “I know you, and I know you understand why I have to go home. The more you fight it, the more it hurts us. It’s a month, and as much as I don’t want to be apart from you for a second, you’re worth it. You were worth the two-year wait, and you’re worth this. I love you so much, and I need you to have the best tour experience you can. If that means I can’t be an active part of it, that’s okay with me because I know I’ll get everything when it’s over.”

  “Tex, babe,” he rasps, slamming his chest against mine.

  My arm is crushed between us, but I don’t care. In his embrace, I feel strong—strong enough to leave for him. He can’t do the right thing—he’d never be able to send me home—but I can.

  “I know. Our forever will start when you get back.”

 

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