The music is loud, but everyone still heard him. He bounds over and picks me up in a bear hug.
“Oh my God,” I squeak as his arms crush my chest. “Put me down, pisshead!”
“Dance with me,” he says, carrying me toward the dance floor.
I don’t have a choice. Laughing, I slap his back and give Kitt a wave. Looks like I’m dancing with Coop for a bit.
Cooper puts me down and tugs me against his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck as we move to “Bang Bang.” He’s a good dancer, and when he’s wasted like this, he’s even better.
Over Cooper’s shoulder, I notice Kitt at the bar with a girl. Seeing him lean in and smile at her is like swallowing fire.
Don’t look.
I focus on Coop and the music.
You knew this was going to happen. It isn’t a surprise. This is what you two do.
I’m getting pretty sick of what we do.
I want to stop loving Kitt.
I will make myself stop loving him—right after I get off-my-face drunk.
Rubbing the ache in my chest, I say, “Coop, let’s do shots until we can’t walk.”
He pulls back and stretches his arms up. “Texas Knight, I love you!”
Even though my heart feels like Kitt is taking frequent stabs at it, I still laugh. I can ignore him and his conquest for tonight. I can have fun with a guy who doesn’t hurt me.
“Please just get me drunk. Right now.”
Coop grabs my hand and pulls me to the bar. Thankfully, he doesn’t spot Kitt, and we end up in a space farther down. I don’t want to make small talk with them.
I want to pretend he doesn’t exist.
“We’ll take ten shots of tequila, please,” Cooper says to the stunning girl behind the bar. He speaks to her chest, but she doesn’t seem to care.
“Ten? I want to be drunk, not dead.”
He gives me a lopsided smile. “I know. That’s why I’m only allowing three for you. It’s all you need, little lightweight.”
“Great. I’m carrying your arse home…”
“Kitt will do that. Looks like he’ll be spending most of his night shagging than drinking.”
More frequent stabs. I force myself to smile, and it takes great effort.
You need to find a way to stop this shit. It’s getting out of hand.
But how?
KITT
FRIDAY, MAY 8
PARIS, FRANCE
The blonde has been all over me, like a fucking rash. She’s one of the more enthusiastic ones, and I know she will do anything to please me. It turns me on. I love it when a beautiful woman’s only goal is to make me come. Who wouldn’t?
Since Texas went to dance with Coop, he’s been her favourite. I know I’m being a dickhead, and this is my fault, but we have to try not to slip up. This is the best way I can think of to do that.
We’re now in the car, and Ted is driving us back to the hotel. Texas is in front of me with Cooper, and the blonde and I are in the back row. Her hand is cupping my dick through my jeans as she kisses my neck.
Tex hasn’t moved since we got in the car, not even an inch.
She reminds me of when I was about five, and I’d see boys playing football with their dads at the park. I’d get so upset that I didn’t have my dad that I’d freeze, thinking it would somehow reverse time. It was like, if I sat so still and concentrated so hard, then he’d walk up to me with a ball under his arm. It was stupid.
I didn’t do it much after I’d told my grandparents why I was a statue. They realised I was at an age where I understood the loss of my mum and dad more, and they helped me come to terms with it. And that weekend, my nan packed up a picnic, and we all spent the day at the park, playing football and eating cake.
Is Texas a statue because she’s hoping it’ll stop this from being real?
No, of course not. You are reading way too much into this. She’s probably asleep.
The blonde—fuck, I wish I’d listened when she told me her name—is trailing kisses along my jaw, and I start to get rock solid.
Because you’re looking at Texas. This is wrong, you sick fuck.
We arrive at the hotel, and Ted ushers us inside. There’s no one about at this hour, and since we went straight from yesterday’s hotel to the arena to the after-party, no one knows this is where we’re staying.
“Coop, you’re walking Tex back, right?” I say as we approach my suite on the eleventh floor.
My room is near the lift while Texas’s room must be farther on. The guys are somewhere in between.
“I can make it,” she says with sarcasm.
There’s a tightness to her voice that doesn’t suit her. She looks like an angel, and her mouth sometimes forgets it.
“I got it, man,” Coop replies, picking Tex up and throwing her over his shoulder.
She immediately starts shouting and thumping his back, but that wouldn’t bother Coop.
He’s probably turned on by it. My eye twitches.
“Come on, baby,” the blonde coos, rubbing me through my jeans.
I get more turned on when Tex looks at me. We’re in the middle of the corridor, but that doesn’t seem to bother her. And I couldn’t care less about anything right now because I’m pissed off.