I take a deep breath and then another. This will probably go a lot better over the phone.
“Er, yeah, she’s here,” Kitt replies to Dad.
“Does he want to talk to me?” I ask.
“Texas, are you okay?” Dad asks. He must have snatched the phone from Kitt.
“Hey, Dad. I’m doing great. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
Silence stretches for long seconds, and he finally clears his throat. “I don’t know what to say, Texas.”
“Nothing. You don’t have to say a thing. I’m happy, Dad.”
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow. I’ll come to Jennifer’s. There are things I need to discuss with her, too.”
That sounds like fun. Not.
“All right, we’ll be home.”
“Home?” he repeats in a low voice.
My heart takes a nosedive. “Not home, home. Her home.”
“See you tomorrow, love.”
He hangs up, and apparently, I’m done talking to Kitt as well.
You are definitely done talking for one day.
TEXAS
SATURDAY, AUGUST 1
NOTTING HILL, ENGLAND
Jennifer is throwing me a party—a party for taking my top off in front of a camera—and I finally see why she handed me over to Dad. I mean, I appreciate it and all, and it’s thanks to her that I’ve found something I love doing, but it’s a bit weird since she’s my mum.
Peyton and her mum are still back in England, so her support right now has never been so appreciated. Dad will be coming here. He wants to speak to Jennifer, and I don’t think it’s going to be for a general catch-up.
Jennifer has a full set of serving staff on hand and three chefs. Three. For thirty people! I made her keep it small because I don’t want a party, but the staff is overkill.
Whatever happened to ordering in pizza and everyone helping themselves to drinks?
Heaven forbid a guest of hers has to pour liquid in a glass. Can’t have that now.
But this is how she does things, so I can deal.
Peyton is sitting on my bed, swirling neat Jack Daniel’s around in a tumbler, and I’ve been watching her be off in her own world for the last ten minutes.
“So…what’s wrong with you?” I ask. She goes to shake her head, but I add, “And don’t tell me you’re fine.”
“Ugh. I guess it’s being back home. I miss it. I miss people who are real and genuine. Maybe it’s just me, but everyone in that industry seems to be out for themselves.”
“I thought you made good friends with a couple of your costars?”
“I have, and they’re both great, but one has been killed off, so I rarely see her, and Marissa’s dating this new guy, so she’s been busy.”
“You don’t want to date anyone?”
She shrugs and then takes a huge gulp of whiskey, scrunching her nose up as it burns. “I’m open to it, but I’ve not met anyone that I want to take things further with. It’s not about having a boyfriend though. I just want strong relationships, like I had here.”
“Have, bitch. I’m not going anywhere.”
Laughing, she blows me a kiss. “I know you’re not. Wish you lived in LA.”
Me, too.
“Are you planning on staying there after the next season is wrapped up?”
“No, we’ll definitely move back. But that’s eight months away.”
“Eight months isn’t long.”
“It’s not. I’m being stupid.”
“You’re not. Hey, maybe I can come out there for a few weeks here and there. We could hang out when you’re off, and I could celebrity-stalk while you film. Win-win.”
“Make it happen! Now, let’s go downstairs. We’re being rude.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re out of JD.”
“And you finished your wine. I want some of that now, so move it, Tex!”
Downstairs is buzzing with activity. Everyone is chatting and laughing. Soft music is playing in the background. Classy fairy lights make gorgeous decoration to Jennifer’s stunning house. It couldn’t be more different from the after-parties I went to with Kitt, Milo, and Coop. This party isn’t me, but the people here wouldn’t like rock, shots, and dirty dancing.
Dirty dancing in a cage.
I tug the collar of my top.
“Rosè, Tex?”
“Please,” I reply to Peyton.
It’d better be ice cold because I’m feeling hot. I miss the way Kitt makes me feel and the things he does to me. I miss everything.
Don’t think about it. You. Are. Fine.
“Texas! There you are. Derek is here, and he has some exiting news!”
“They want me?”
She squeals. “You’re going to be the face of Whitney Blake’s clothing line! She loves your look.”
“That’s amazing!” I wonder if Mum knows that Whitney slept with Dad.
“Tex, that’s awesome. We need to celebrate again!” Peyton hands me my wine. “To my supermodel best friend.”
I nudge her arm. “Thanks, loser.”
Jennifer laughs. “I’m very proud of you.”
I kind of am, too. Soon, I’ll be earning my own money. When I buy something, I’ll know it’s because of me. I never understood how good that felt before. I raise my glass with Jennifer and Peyton.
An hour later, the party is in full swing. There’s about twenty more people than I expected, but I don’t care.
Jennifer is tipsy and telling everyone who will listen—which is everyone since they seem to want to please her—about how proud she is and how well I’m already doing in the industry. It’s a little embarrassing, yes, but this has never happened before. The parental pride has always come from dad. I like this from Mum.
There, I admitted it. I like it when my mum’s proud, and I want a relationship with her. Dad has always been enough, but having them both is indescribable.
Peyton slaps my arm, takes my wine glass, and nods to the door. My eyes widen when I see Dad strolling inside, followed by Kitt.
Dad’s eyes settle on me, and he points to the door. “I think you should get in the car now, Texas. We’re leaving.”
My face falls.
Jennifer stands forward, between me and Dad. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Mark?” she hushes sharply.
“What the hell am I doing? What the hell are you doing? She’s a teenager, and you’re her fucking mother! What were you thinking?”
I catch a glimpse of Jennifer rolling her eyes. “Oh, calm down. You’re making a much bigger deal out of this. It’s just skin.”
“Our daughter’s skin,” he spits through gritted teeth. “How could you allow it to happen?”
“Texas is her own person, Mark. When are you going to wake up and realise she’s not a child anymore?”
“Oh, so the passage to adulthood is exposing yourself to every fucker who wants to look?”
I flinch. That’s not how it was.
“You’re so close-minded,” Jennifer says. “It’s not seedy. She can make her own decisions, and she decided to take part in a classy photo shoot. The pictures are extremely tasteful, and this will do wonders for her career.”
“Enough,” I snap. “I think we should all calm down for a second.”
“That isn’t a fucking career my daughter is going to have!” Dad roars.
I step back and silently clap my hands together. “We’re not calming down then,” I mutter.
Kitt is the only one who notices me, and his eyes tighten. He has about as much right to a say in my life as my father does.
How dare they barge in here and cause a scene. I fist my hands. “I said, enough!” I shout at the top of my lungs.
Three pairs of shocked eyes watch me, and I’m sure there are many more, but everyone else is behind me.
“Seriously, stop it. I can do whatever I want, and I don’t need anyone’s permission. And I certainly don’t need to be told how to live my life.”
“I think you’re missing the point, Mark. She grew up,” Jennifer says, narrowing her eyes until they’re tiny slits. “She isn’t your little girl anymore. Our daughter is nineteen. She is an adult whether you like it or not.”
Dad doesn’t like that. His jaw twitches as he grinds his teeth together. It’s always just been us. He’s protected me from everything, even my mum. I step forward, not able to bear how hard it is for him. I’m the only child he’s ever going to have. He pretty much raised me single-handedly while fighting to be the best musician he could be, giving us both a great life.
“Dad, I love you, and I love how you brought me up, but…”
“Yeah,” he rasps as he wraps me in a big bear hug. He’s shaking, and the desperation in his embrace breaks my heart. “I get it, Texas. I keep screwing up, don’t I?”
“You’re not screwing up. But you have to take a step back. Even if you don’t agree with my choices, you have to accept them. Just like I have to accept that you slept with my new boss!”
Jennifer ushers people back into the kitchen, so I’m alone with Dad and Kitt.
Dad takes a step back. “I don’t follow…”
“Whitney Blake. I’m going to be the face of her new clothing line.” I bite my lip as it finally sinks in. Shit! I’m the face of Whitney fucking Blake’s clothing line!
Dad’s stunned. His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh. Well, er…I guess congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you.”
He smiles. “So, modelling, huh?”
I shrug. “Turns out, I like it. Plus, when they’re not looking, you can grab some awesome clothes.”
Rolling his eyes, he straightens his back. “Do you think you’ll do…you know…”
“More topless? I don’t think so. I wouldn’t be comfortable flashing any more flesh than what I have done already.”
“Okay.” He dips his head. “I need a stiff drink, and I suppose I should speak to your mother.”
“Yes, you should apologise for letting yourself into her home and yelling at her. She’s been good to me, Dad. She’s helped.”
“I hear you.” He looks at Kitt and then heads into the kitchen with everyone else.
Kitt sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “I screwed up by not keeping in touch, Tex, and I’m sorry.”
Folding my arms over my chest, I stand my ground. The second we shared that first kiss I’d given him the power to rip my heart into tiny pieces, so this time around, he’s going to have to get through iron gates and steel walls.
“Can we do this tomorrow, please? This is my party, and I’d like to enjoy it without crying.”
Kitt blows out a breath, and his eyes flash with pain. “I want to stay and celebrate with you.”
“We’ve never had any trouble partying together.”
His lip kicks up into an adorably sexy smirk. “No, we certainly haven’t. Will you do a shot with me?”
I’ve missed this. “I thought you’d never ask.”
KITT
SUNDAY, AUGUST 2
NOTTING HILL, ENGLAND
Jennifer let us stay the night. Like we were fucking leaving anyway. Mark and I slept on the sofas in the living room. Texas was fun last night. Something’s changed with her. She was more assertive and confident. Those aren’t things she’s particularly struggled with in the past, but now, she’s as strong as iron.
It looks good on her.
But then everything—and nothing at all—does.
It’s 5:34 a.m., and I can’t sleep. Mark is awake, too, but so far, he’s not let on. I want to go and find Tex, but waking her is never a good idea. Kind of how you never slash your own leg and then run into a lion’s den. For weeks, I’ve missed her more than I care to think about, and now, she’s so close that I can feel her presence.
Last night, she acted like our relationship never happened. We were friends.
Today, I need to fix that.
“Can’t sleep either?” Mark says, breaking the thirty-minute silence.
I sit up. “No. Do you think she’ll come home today?”
“She doesn’t have a choice.”
“Except that, at nineteen, she does.”
Almost twenty. Mark needs to let her go.
He sighs, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I know.” His voice is a scratchy groan. “I don’t have to like it.”
“You don’t, but if you don’t want to ruin your relationship with her, you’ll do it with a smile.”
“When the fuck did you grow up?”
Laughing, I look up to the ceiling. “About the time I fell in love with her.”
He smiles. “Do you think she’s really thought this modelling thing through?”
“Yes, I’m not a baby,” Texas says, folding her arms.
Mark and I both jump at her sudden presence.
Jesus, she’s beautiful. Even when she’s angry. Especially when she’s angry.
“I’m sure about my career, and I know things will change for me, again, but I’m prepared for that. This is my choice,” she says.
“Do you think you’ll be able to deal with the extra attention better than you did with these ridiculous baby rumours?” I ask.
“I dealt with that fine. You know that’s not why I left.”
“Bullshit,” Mark says, standing up. “When someone is talking about the person you love, it gets to you. Maybe not right away, but it does.”
“You speaking from experience there, Dad?”
Yeah, is he?
“There was a big fallout after Jennifer headed back to work, and you came with me. Your mother and I will never be together, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel anything for her back then. I hated people talking about it.”
No one speaks for ten long seconds.
Mark clears his throat. “From those first articles that said you’d probably end up damaged, I vowed to make—”
“Dad, stop. We can’t keep going over old ground. It doesn’t matter what anyone has said about any of us. Their opinions don’t matter. I just need us to be okay.”
Does that stretch to me and her, too? Because I sure as hell can’t do this without her.
Apparently, I’m a pathetic twat alone.
“She’s right. We need to draw a line in the past right now and move forward,” I say.
“And what does forward look like?” Mark asks.
I have no idea what she wants, so I look at Texas. The ball is completely in her court.
She sighs. “No more arguing. I want things to go back to normal.”
Normal before or after we got together?
I take a breath, trying not to get my hopes up. “Does that mean you’re coming to Australia?”
She shrugs. “I’m not sure yet.”
“You want to stay here?” I ask in disbelief. Fucking hell, a month ago, she couldn’t stand the idea of living with Jennifer, and now, she wants to make it permanent.
“I’m not sure, Kitt.”
“What will you do here?” Mark asks.
“Well, there’s that campaign for Whitney, for one. I have a job now. I can’t chase rock stars around the world for the rest of my life.”
She could. She doesn’t want to. I love that she wants to do her own thing. I’d never want her to be unfulfilled, but I hate that the thing she wants will take her even farther away from me. She’ll have shoots, and I’ll have tours. It’s just another excuse for her to say we won’t work.
“You don’t need to worry about me. I won’t be removing anything in front of a camera again. You guys can go do whatever publicity you’ve got before Australia.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Yeah, not happening,” I say. “Cut the bitchiness, Tex. It doesn’t suit you.”
She grin
ds her teeth and straightens her back. “You can leave, Kitt. We’re done here.”
“You know what? I will go,” I snap, getting up and pushing past her on my way to the door. I don’t need this.
But shit. I do.
I freeze.
She wants me to leave her, to walk out, so she doesn’t have to admit that breaking up with me was bullshit.
Don’t leave. This is a mistake. She’s testing you. Show her you’re forever.
Mark is shaking his head at her when I get back in the living room.
“What are you doing?” she asks. Her voice is full of hate.
It kinda turns me on.
I smirk. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy, sweetheart, so be as pissy as you want. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll leave,” she snips as she walks away into the kitchen.
I give Mark a look. “Has she always been this…diva?”
“No, but I think we helped with that.”
“Should I follow her?”
He shrugs. “Usually, I would say yes…”
I groan, and despite what my gut tells me, I follow her into the kitchen. There’s no time to let her cool down. She’s leaning against the island with her arms folded again. Thankfully, the island is nowhere near the knives.
“Shout at me, Tex. Get it all out, so we can move past this.”
“You think that’ll make it all better? Do you honestly think me telling you what a dick you were will take back every night I cried myself to sleep, every time I needed to speak to you and you weren’t there, every day I thought I was going to go crazy from not seeing you?”
“Tex,” I whisper.
Fucking hell, she’s killing me.
“Don’t,” she turns around, wiping her eyes. “I can’t go there with you again, Kitt.”
“What?” I feel like I’m free-falling. “You can’t give up.”
“Me?” She spins back around, and her tear-stained face rips me apart. “I’m not the one who gave up, Kitt. You are! You told me we’d be fine, and then you stopped calling. You promised you’d call, and you broke that promise. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”
My God, she is impossible sometimes.
“I tried, Texas. This wasn’t like any other tour I’d done. This is our tour. It’s so much more involved. We’ve had appearances of some sort every day, performances at night, and travel in between. You know that.”
With the Band (With the Band #1) Page 33
