Since my phone call with Texas, I’ve been frustrated and pissed off. Why did I even go there?
A beautiful girl tells me she’s in the bath, and my dick immediately takes control over the situation. I didn’t think. There is no fucking bath on the bus! She’s making me lose my mind.
She’ll be here soon. It’s been almost an hour since we spoke on the phone.
What would I have done if she’d sent that photo? It terrifies me how far I might take it when I’m not thinking clearly, which is all the time she’s near or when I’m thinking about her.
I need to make it stop.
Tex is off-limits, and that’s hot as hell. It’s like putting sweets in front of a kid, saying not to eat them, and then leaving the room. They won’t be able to resist, and I’m not sure I will if she offers herself up.
I’m in my dressing room, sucking down whiskey like it’s water.
Milo would be pissed if he saw how much I’d had already. We’ve got hours before we go on, so I’ll sober up in time, but he will definitely have a few things to say about my behaviour.
And he’ll be right.
This is our first show. The first damn one! I need to be on top of my game, not have my head screwed over by some unattainable girl. Shit, I can have anyone I want. After the show, there will be plenty of women willing to come back to my dressing room or hotel with me.
Why do I want inside the pants of the one I can’t have?
Who am I? Cooper?
I need Texas out of my system. If I could just have one night with her, things could go back to how they were before I started to wonder what she felt like.
You don’t believe that.
Closing my eyes, I fist the glass to the point where I feel it could give way.
It can’t happen. Get a-fucking-hold of yourself.
Someone knocks on my door.
I down the last of the whiskey, drop the tumbler on the table, and shout, “Yeah?”
Texas walks in, looking like my own brand of perfect. Her hair is in a messy plait to the side, her lips are red, and she’s wearing skintight jeans, a plain grey top, and a leather jacket.
I want to push her over the dressing table and hold on to nothing but that hair.
Clearing my throat, I smirk. “So glad you could make it.”
She narrows her eyes and puts her hands on her hips, which makes her top stretch over her breasts.
Fuck. Me.
“Shut up. I don’t need to be here early. And I hope that was apple juice.”
“Of course it was.”
Smiling, she shakes her head. “You’re terrible, rock star. Are you crippled with nerves yet?”
She closes the door and sits down on the large sofa with a grin. Her legs are stretched out in front of her. I want them wrapped around my neck.
Shut up. Resist. You can’t go there. Tonight, you can have any girl you want—more than one if you feel like it.
I might just do that.
“Nope, I’m fine.”
“Hmm, all thanks to the whiskey?”
“I’ve only had a couple.”
“Keep it that way. You can get drunk after.”
“Plan to. You’re still coming to the club, right?”
I don’t know why I’m asking. Of course she’s still coming. She loves the after-parties almost as much as Coop does.
“Duh. I plan to get so drunk that one of you arseholes will have to carry me to my room.”
“I might be busy,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows so that she knows what I mean, not that she wouldn’t. “I’ll be sure to let Milo and Coop know.”
Ted would get her home, no matter what, but we’ve always looked out for her. We made a promise to a man who’s given us everything. Protect Texas. Included in that is, don’t fucking touch her. Two out of us three is good, right?
I’m a bastard.
“Lovely,” she says, turning her nose up. “You know, it’s not a requirement to sleep with all the fans.”
“No, but it sure is fun.”
She rolls her eyes, and then they settle on disappointment. It makes my gut clench.
“Come on, Tex, if you’d had me before, you wouldn’t be trying to keep other women from experiencing this.” I gesture to my dick with my hand.
“If you’re going to keep this up, I’ll go and see if Carl needs me to do anything. But if you want to switch back to my normal Kitt, I’ll stay.”
Her normal Kitt.
I can’t play stupid and pretend like I don’t know what she means. I didn’t intend on talking about women with her. It’s like a defence mechanism. If she really, really knows that I’m fully happy with sleeping around—which I am—then she won’t flirt back.
Of course, it would be easier if I didn’t flirt first or if I didn’t fantasise about being inside her quite so much. But since I’m incapable of doing those things, I need something to keep her at a distance. Turning her off is the only thing stopping us from making another mistake. And that’s what it would be—a mistake. It might be one I want to repeat over and over, but that doesn’t change anything.
Sex with her would be the best kind of wrong.