by Reid, B. B.
When in Rome…
Except, this territory that we’d stumbled upon didn’t have any rules. This was the first time the three of us had been after the same girl. It would help if one of us had even the smallest claim to her, but she didn’t seem to know who she wanted, either. She went on a date with me, kissed Houston, and treated Rich like her white knight.
Braxton wasn’t Rome. She was no-man’s-land.
Sighing, I sent her a text.
What kind of pizza do you like?
It was a lame attempt to get her to talk to me, but I had nothing else to go on. We weren’t friends. Once again, Houston had made that decision for everyone.
Future GF: Not hungry.
It had taken her longer than I liked to respond. My response was short and to the point.
Did I ask?
I imagined her annoyed sigh from my lonely watch under the moon. The buses where our roadies bunked were parked farther away, but I could still hear them enjoying their night.
It must have been nice to live free.
Bound had all of life’s luxuries except one.
Future GF: Cheese…with pineapples.
I groaned as I typed back. You’re definitely not marriage material. Men like meat and girls who like meat.
Future GF: I’ll get over it.
I chuckled under my breath when I read her response. She was quicker to text back that time.
Braxton was a challenging book to crack open, but fuck if those pages weren’t worth it.
I made a quick call to the same pizza place and ordered a cheese pie—reluctantly with pineapples—and then stood outside for the hour it took both orders to arrive. The time quickly passed since I spent it texting Braxton.
Returning to the bus, I dumped all but two of the pizza boxes on our dining table, grabbed one of the beer cases the roadie had procured and started back out the door.
“Wait. Where are you going?” Rich shouted after me. He was sitting alone on the couch, looking sad as fuck. Houston was gone, and I didn’t care where. My guess?
He was brooding in his bunk.
“To the fucking moon.”
I stormed off our bus and headed over to Braxton’s with the pizza and beer balanced while I sent another text.
I’m outside your door. Open up.
She was back to making me wait longer than fucking necessary for a simple, goddamn response.
Bummer, she sent when she finally texted back. You should have called first. No one’s home.
I didn’t bother to respond. Braxton was anything but coy, so I knew she wasn’t opening that door. Setting the case of beer on the ground with the pizzas on top, I headed for the bus where Xavier was bunking. He was busy on a call that had to be personal since it was after midnight.
Lucky me.
Snagging the spare keys to Braxton’s rig, I escaped without him asking questions.
Marching back across the lot, I stopped when I noticed the empty ground. Where the hell was the beer and pizza? There wasn’t a person in sight.
Unlocking the bus, I stormed up the steps, and to my surprise…Braxton wasn’t alone.
She was cozy on the couch with Rich, who had the balls to be eating my pizza and beer on top of ruining my plans.
“So that’s how it is? You let him in and not me?”
“He’s nice without a motive,” she responded with no remorse. “How did you even get in here?”
“Spare key.” I teased her by twirling the cheap ring it was attached to around my finger.
“Boundaries, Loren. You need some.”
“Not interested,” I said as I flopped onto the couch next to Rich and spread my arms along the back, “and it’s too late, so don’t bother trying.”
“It’s never too late to grow up, but I digress. Why are you two here? Isn’t being alone with me forbidden?”
I sighed and scratched the stubble growing under my chin. “Houston leads when we’re in the mood to be led.”
“And it was never our decision to kick you off,” Rich mumbled.
I agreed with a nod even though I knew Rich’s rebellion would pass quicker than a shooting star. He wanted too much for us to be friends again and thought being a doormat was the way to do it.
Braxton perked a brow. “So this is an ‘I Hate Houston’ party? Are you sure you don’t need adult supervision?”
“Yup, you’re the guest of honor, and no, unless you’re feeling frisky.” I winked, but she was too busy staring at the ground with this lost look in her eyes.
“I don’t hate Houston.”
“We figured when we caught you kissing him.” And how could I forget his hand up her shirt? Until this morning, I was the only one who’d copped a feel.
As far as I knew.
I cut my gaze at Rich just as Braxton spoke.
“Jealous?” she shot back.
It turns out I preferred her smug. It sparked my creativity. Sitting three feet from her, I imagined all the ways I’d fuck that look off her face.
“I took you on a date,” I answered her. “That should have at least gotten me to third base. Houston blew through first and second, and all he had to do was make you cry.”
“The only man around who’s made me cry is you.” That shut me up, and she noticed too. “Nothing to say?” she challenged.
“No. I’m not proud of that.”
Braxton didn’t seem impressed by my sincerity. “So what happened, Loren, because nothing’s changed. Did you forget to tell your inflated ego?”
I dug my fingers into the couch to keep from reaching for her neck. Braxton had this innate ability to turn the most forward-thinking guy into a prehistoric caveman. I was a sleeping bear, and she was daring me to wake. Houston and Rich were no different. The latter might have been a nice guy, but he was a liar too. She’d learn that sooner or later if Rich ever made a move this century.
“If you’re looking for someone to be good to you when he’s not inside of you, I’m not your guy. Rich might ask for seconds, but that’s about it. Houston will forget you the moment you’re gone.”
“Why are you telling me this like it matters? First, I’d have to be interested.”
“Your head may not be, your heart is still up for debate, but your pussy cries a river whenever one of us walks by, so save your bullshit for the limp dicks and the simps.”
Her lips parted at my audacity before she caught herself and narrowed her big, brown eyes.
Yeah, I know.
I’m an asshole who’s just leveled up, but it’s like I said before. Braxton brought the shit out of me. She was under my skin and getting deeper by the day. I turned to Rich, who had his head back, eyes closed tight as fuck, and face pinched from wincing. I was fucking this up even worse than Houston. “This rig have cable?”
Opening his eyes, Rich looked at Braxton, then me, and sighed. “It should,” he mumbled.
I stayed silent as he grabbed the remote from the cushion next to him and turned on the TV. The sound immediately filled the bus. I didn’t care what played if it was distracting. Rich channel surfed for a few minutes before settling on a movie that looked like it was just starting. It wasn’t until Gal Gadot popped on the screen that I realized what was playing. Snatching the remote from Rich, I cranked up the volume.
A stunningly sexy woman running around in armored lingerie and knocking douchebags on their asses? Count me in.
It wasn’t nearly as exciting as Braxton claiming to be a fucking sex addict, though. I didn’t buy it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Braxton, the nympho.
Nothing else sounded sweeter.
Or too good to be true.
Rich went to grab three beers from the fridge. They were only slightly chilled, but they would do. Popping the tabs on all three, he handed one to Brax, who surprisingly accepted. He shoved mine into my chest, spilling some on my shirt.
Fuck, I just had this dry cleaned.
We exchanged angry looks, warning eac
h other to back off before focusing on Wonder Woman.
Yeah, I got his beef. I kept screwing up. So sue me.
Luckily, the one useful skill my father taught me was how to clean up a mess.
Rich had already eaten most of the three-meat pie meant for me, so I grabbed the one still closed and lifted the top. I watched Braxton pretend to watch the movie for a moment before I spoke. “Cheese and pineapple,” I announced like I’d baked it myself.
“I told you I wasn’t hungry.” Just then, her stomach growled loud enough to be heard over the movie.
Perfect timing. I wasn’t surprised since I doubted she had much of an appetite before and after the show.
“Your stomach disagrees. Eat up.”
“I don’t need you to tell me when to eat, Loren. I’m perfectly capable of reading my body’s signals without your help.”
On cue, her stomach growled again, only louder this time. Huffing, she leaned forward and snatched one of the slices. After taking a bite, chewing, and swallowing, she tossed me a cheeky smile before rolling her brown eyes.
Grabbing one of the slices from her box instead of mine, I tore off half in one bite as if it would feed me insight into Braxton’s mind. It wasn’t bad. Of course, I was hungry as fuck. I couldn’t recall the last time I ate either. Being on the road could be brutal. There were times when even the most basic human necessities were either optional or forgotten.
We watched the movie mostly in silence. Rich and I made more than a few male appreciation sounds, which disgusted Braxton to no end.
“Do you ever dress up for Halloween?” I asked without preamble, rhyme, or reason.
She cut her gaze toward me. “Where is this going?”
I nodded toward the TV and Gal Godot playing a fierce Amazonian yet clueless demigod. “With the right phone calls, I’m sure we could get you an authentic costume. Then again, I’m thinking of Poison Ivy. Assuming you’re a natural redhead.”
My eyebrows rose as I waited for an answer. Of course, she didn’t take the bait, not that I expected her to, really.
“You’re exhausting,” she said with a shake of her head.
“I prefer riveting.”
“How about pig?”
“You could call me that, but then you’ll still want me to fuck you.” I shrugged.
Our gazes met and held, but she didn’t bother denying it. Falling into bed together was just a matter of when. We were wrong for each other in every facet but one—the chemistry we made could crumble the strongest mountain.
Because I was a gentleman when it suited me, I let her off the hook by focusing on the movie until my eyes started to droop.
The film wasn’t even close to ending. How long was this fucking thing?
I’d need a bed soon, preferably with Braxton in it.
Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention in time to see her yawn for the third time in ten minutes. While she was falling asleep, she must have thought up the perfect punishment for me because she turned on her side, and just before laying her head in Rich’s lap, she paused.
“Is this okay?”
Fucker didn’t even hesitate before nodding. She rewarded him with a sleepy smile, and then her head was on his fucking thigh.
I saw red.
It bloomed on Rich’s cheeks like he was a thirteen-year-old girl.
“Why am I friends with you?” I blurted out of jealousy. I didn’t give two shits about hiding it. “You’re twenty-seven years old, blushing because a girl asked to touch you platonically.” I shook my head in envy disguised as disgust. That should have been me Braxton was lying on. “God, you’re embarrassing.”
“Ignore him,” Braxton mumbled as her eyelids drifted closer together. Any moment now, she’d be out cold. “He’s jealous because you’re sweet, and I like you more.”
Feeling evil as fuck, I smiled at them both.
“Too bad he’s married,” I snitched to Rich’s horror.
Lucky for him, Braxton had fallen asleep.
I was relieved the next morning when I woke up alone. I just wasn’t sure I’d slept alone. All I could vaguely recall was being carried into the bedroom and laid gently on the pillow-top mattress. That and a gentle kiss pressed against my forehead. I just wish I could place a face to the lips.
Following the smell of French toast, I entered the kitchen and caught Loren stealing a slice of bacon from a plate meant for me.
“So, you’re a thief, too.” I shuffled toward the counter and the delicious smell coming from the plate. I could seriously get used to having a chef around. It seemed like a worthwhile investment for a girl who was clueless in the kitchen.
“Morning, baby fawn.”
His gruff greeting told me he hadn’t been awake long either. I wasn’t a morning person, so add what he said to me last night, and I found myself snapping. “Stop calling me that. My name is Braxton, but if you insist, can you at least drop ‘baby’?”
“I’d rather drop Fawn,” he said as cool as a cucumber.
Oh, hell no. I didn’t like my stomach’s positive reaction to that. “Fine. Whatever. It’s a fucking deal.” I thrust out my hand for him to shake and pretended I wouldn’t like being that intimate with him.
He stared at my hand with amusement before his gaze snapped up to meet mine.
And then he kissed me.
The bastard fucking kissed me.
Loren’s kiss wasn’t rough like Houston’s. He wasn’t demanding, but he wasn’t generous either. No, he teased and toyed with my lips, heart, and tongue until I was ready to put my soul on the line. He was a playful kisser, leading me in only to pull away. With just one kiss, he taught me how to please him.
“You taste like cheese, beer, and a bad night, baby.”
In typical Loren fashion, he cruelly shoved me out of the clouds he’d placed me on. I recoiled in horror at the reminder that while Loren looked like a magazine spread, I haven’t even brushed my teeth.
I turned to run for the bathroom and my toothbrush when he grabbed me and spun me back around.
“I came to tell you that we’re back on the road soon. I didn’t mean to kiss you, but I’m not sorry.”
“Don’t do it again,” I forced myself to plead.
“Nah, I’ll definitely do it again.”
“Loren—”
“It won’t be your fault,” he interrupted while pulling me close. “You can’t help that I don’t want to resist you.”
I frowned at Loren while pretending my heart wasn’t shoving shit aside to make room for him. “You almost sound like you’re in love with me,” I tried to joke to break the tension.
Loren didn’t even blink. “If we’re not careful, I will be,” he told me seriously.
My lips repeatedly parted and closed until a sane response came to mind. He’d given me no reason to believe him, and yet…the meadow my brain was telling me I smelled right now urged me to. I still hadn’t figured out this new emotion. Only that Loren triggered it.
I so didn’t need this right now.
“What am I supposed to do with that, Loren? We barely know each other.”
Our second kiss came sooner than later. It was slow and gentle. The kind that lingered long after the culprit was gone.
“Whatever you want,” he whispered against my lips. His head popped up, and then he was giving me a hard look. Stern on Loren was a foreign look, yet so fucking good. “As long as the answer isn’t no.”
“It has to be.” I pulled away, and he let me. “You know my secret.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” he responded, lips curled. He was definitely pissed now, but I sensed it wasn’t at me. “Who the hell told you that you were a nympho? Was it by chance a licensed professional?”
“I’m serious, Loren.” I shook my head when my voice failed me. I could feel shame clawing at my skin. It was still too familiar. “You can’t joke about this.”
“Believe me, no part of me finds this funny. I didn’t take it seriously unt
il I realized that someone put this shit in your head. Give me a name. I want to deal with them.”
I shook my head while looking down at his Derbies. “You didn’t know me then. I crossed too many lines, and I hurt too many people. I was willing to let it destroy me.”
“Show me someone who hasn’t made mistakes when it comes to sex, Braxton. If I could remember their names, I’d tell you a few I wished I’d met when I was sober,” he mumbled.
I didn’t want to laugh, but I did. Inside. “If you had an upbringing like mine, you’d understand. They say it takes a village to raise a child. Mine wasn’t the most forgiving.”
He grabbed me again, holding me by my hips, but it was his eyes that conquered me. Not his hands. “How can I convince you?”
“You can’t.”
“Have you met me?” he shot back, his voice deep and low. When he kissed me again, he tasted like morning dew. I couldn’t get enough. When he finally pulled away, it took us both a moment to catch our breath. “I can run circles around your demons, Braxton. Just let me in, and I’ll handle the rest.”
The romantic I kept in line with a bat and knuckle dusters sighed in appreciation. He was saying all the right things. Naturally, since it was Loren, I was suspicious. “If this is some ploy to sleep with me, I’ll make you sorry.”
“Fuck, you’re sexy.”
It was hard not to fall for his gorgeous smile that lit up my entire life, but I managed. “You won’t think so when I slip orange dye in your shampoo or shave your eyebrows while you sleep.”
Sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he stared at me for a long, long, long time. “Duly noted, baby.”
Denver, as it turns out, was a thirteen-hour drive from Phoenix. Add in the frequent stops, including our current one in some town bordering Colorado, and I wondered if we’d ever reach the city. We didn’t have another show until Friday, which gave us two days to find trouble.
I didn’t know we’d do it in one.
The warning stirred in my gut as I inhaled the air and tried not to fixate on this new turn of events. Houston hated me, Loren had a crush, and…I couldn’t figure out Rich’s angle. A part of me hoped he didn’t have one because I liked being around him a little too much. I didn’t have to keep my guard as high.
