A heavy arm rests on my shoulder, and Will chuckles. “They’re going to be bigger than us.”
“Going to be?”
“Hilarious. I just hope your head is screwed on when it comes to Kitt.”
Yeah, I don’t like where this is going.
“I don’t expect anything, Will. I’ll be fine.”
Only, I know I won’t be fine. We’ve never been together or done anything more than kiss and…dry-humped, but my feelings are real. I would love to turn them off because loving someone who doesn’t love you back is heartbreaking.
And Will is right. They’re going to be huge, and I’ll still be little Texas, daughter of an aging rock god. It’s pitiful really.
Finding something I’m good at and that I want to do needs to be shot to number one on my to-do list, even above bingeing on every season of American Horror Story.
“I hope so, Texas, because I don’t like it when you’re hurting.”
“He can’t hurt me. We’re not together.”
Lies, lies, lies.
Will knows it, and I know it. We look at each other with the understanding that I’m talking out of my arse right now.
I sigh. “All right, fine. It’s cool though. I know the score. I’m not some idiot, expecting the world from someone who’s currently trying to conquer it.”
“What you expect and what you want might be two different things, but that doesn’t mean it’ll hurt any less.”
Awesome. This conversation is uplifting.
“Got it, chief. I’m all good,” I say lightly, playfully punching his stomach.
“All right, girl.” He kisses the side of my head.
We watch the rest of their set in silence, occasionally singing along. Kitt does sing my favourite song louder than the rest, and it makes my heart ache. Through the whole thing, he sings out into the crowd, but it’s for me. He holds the mic with two hands when he doesn’t need to play the guitar and sings like his life depends on it.
It’s the best I’ve ever heard that song, and it brings a tear to my eye.
Yep, this is going to really hurt.
My heart is racing as he bellows out the lyrics. I’m falling harder, and it’s terrifying. I’m completely overwhelmed by him.
After the show, we head to a local club.
Dad’s been to enough after-parties to know that the later you stay, the better they get, but he, Jimmy, and Will still move on elsewhere most of the time. He trusts me, and more importantly, he trusts Ted, who would never leave me, no matter how much I beg him to.
Will is the first one to leave because he’s made a female friend for the night. Jimmy has spent most of his time texting Saskia, so he and Dad head out to a quieter venue where they can talk about things old people talk about to other older celebrities.
Kitt throws his arm over my shoulder as we watch my dad leave. “Now, you can play properly,” he whispers in my ear.
His breath tickles my neck and makes me shudder. His eyes are flirtatious and alluring, drawing me in and making me hot with desire.
I think my ovaries just imploded.
“Hmm, how does one do that then?” I ask, putting on a posh accent.
“Well, darling, one simply gets fucked up,” he replies.
“All right.” I turn to him, laugh, and link my arm in his. “Fuck me up real good, Daniels.” Double meaning there.
I try to keep a straight face, but his sharp intake of breath drives me wild.
He leans even closer, and his lips brush my ear.
Oh God.
“Be careful with your choice of words, or you could get something you’ve not bargained for.”
That would be nice.
“Oh, really?” I say, tilting my head the way Peyton’s character does when she’s being sexy. Bet I look like a tit doing it.
This is a dangerous game I’m playing. He doesn’t know it, and I don’t want him to, but he holds all the power. I want him. It’s his choice if anything happens between us. It’s my heart that has the potential to be crushed.
I can’t take this too far.
Self-preservation mode: On.
Back out of this.
“Are you buying me a drink or not?” I ask, moving over so that he’s not almost on top of me.
No more flirting. It won’t end well.
He’ll probably be shagging someone else in a matter of hours. My heart aches at the thought of him leaving with another woman. I’ve seen it so many times before, and it never gets easier. When he touches them, kisses them, tells them how pretty they are, I want to die—or rip their fingernails from the beds.
He stands straighter and nods. “Let’s find Milo and Coop and do some shots.”
Taking my hand in an innocent gesture, Kitt leads me through the VIP area where we look for the two amigos on the prowl. My hand feels so right in his. Everywhere he touches me, even accidentally, comes alive.
I hate how much I want him, and I hate that I can’t stop it. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much it hurts me, I can’t stop him from being my heart.
I love him.
I’m in love with someone who doesn’t love me back.
“Texas!” Cooper shouts across the room.