With the Band (With the Band #1)

You need help!

“Want to grab some drinks, and I’ll get the junk food?” I say. “We have to meet with Carl at seven p.m. though, and after that, you guys are on the radio. You can’t be drunk for that.”

“Noted. Five beers, max.”

Five? I’d be on the floor after three.

I give him a smile. At least there are only six beers here, so all I need to do is drink two. “I’m cutting you off at three,” I say. “Jodie will not be happy if I let you get drunk before the interview.”

“And you’re her assistant manager now?”

“No, I’m just helping. I’m good at organising your lazy arses.”

“You are.”

He steps into my personal space – and I would gladly share more of it with him in bed, too. His eyes are serious, and they’re already dragging truths out of me.

“But do you enjoy it, Tex?”

I shrug. “I guess I do. I’m good at it, and it’s nice to feel useful while I’m here. When I was in full-time education, I didn’t feel like a freeloader. Now, I’m an adult and trying to work out what the hell it is I want to do with my life. I’d feel like a bum if I wasn’t contributing.”

Kitt frowns. He wants to tell me I shouldn’t feel that way, but he can’t because it’s true. There are plenty of people who would be happy to live off their daddy’s money forever. I’m not one of them. I mean, I already have a lot of it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to earn my own or do something more than be his daughter to deserve it.

“You know I’m right. Please do what I say, so I don’t feel like the early Jennifer.”

My mother followed Enigma around, so she could sleep with my dad and get drunk off his money.

I won’t be a groupie. I won’t be a groupie.

Obviously, I’m not talking about my dad here because vom, but you know what I mean.

“You’re nothing like her. You could never do what she did.”

“You know, I’m not even angry about her leaving me. Well, I am, but I can understand her being too young and not ready, but not once has she apologised or even tried to talk to me about it. Who does that? I’d be totally happy if she just acknowledged our past.”

“She’s probably scared to. I can’t imagine it’s something she’s proud of.”

“I hope not. I’m her daughter though. Shouldn’t she love me more than she wants to save face?”

He shrugs and takes a swig of beer. I watch his lips circle the bottle.

Stop perving. You can’t do it subtly.

I force myself to look away because I really am horrible at admiring Kitt’s form without staring.

“Why don’t you bring it up to her?”

Oh no. No, no. “That’s never going to happen. I think I would rather chop off a limb with a rusty saw. I’ve never done touchy-feely with Jennifer, and we don’t talk. She’s not someone I can talk to, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable opening up about how she made me feel over the years. Besides, it’s over now. I’m all grown-up.”

“It’s not over. You might be older now, but it’s not something that’ll disappear. It’s a conversation you should have with her.”

“Maybe.”

He smirks. “You’re not going to, are you?”

“Not unless hell freezes over.”

“Chicken.”

I shove his shoulder in good spirit. “Bugger off!”

“Only trying to help. You only get one mum, Tex.”

Cringing inwardly, I put my beer down and twist to face him. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

“No, it’s okay. It was a long time ago, and I’m all right.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Don’t. Neither of us has had nearly enough alcohol for this conversation. You meant nothing by it, and neither did I. My parents died, and growing up without them was hard, but I have the best grandparents. I didn’t miss out, and I’m not messed up, so please don’t stress. Although, if you’re feeling bad, I know one way you can make it up to me.”

I lift my eyebrow, waiting, and Kitt grins. His eyes are lit with mischief.

“You could take your top off. No one is unhappy after seeing tits.”

“And here I was, thinking we were having a deep and meaningful conversation.”

“There’s nothing shallow or meaningless about your breasts.”

Yep, moment over. It was nice while it lasted.

I don’t know how he can change between Serious Kitt and Jokey-Slutty Kitt in a nanosecond. And he only does it around me—that I’ve noticed anyway. I don’t tend to watch him when he’s flirting with other women because it makes me feel sick.

“Yeah, thanks. Drink your beer, and then we should get Milo and Cooper before the meeting.” My voice is icy, and although I want to be better at concealing how I feel, I don’t really care this time.

“What’s up your arse?” he asks. “It was only a joke.”

“Why is everything a joke to you?”

Oh my God, Texas, shut the fuck up! What are you doing? Christ, sometimes, you have no filter between your brain and mouth.