Yeah, I have no doubt the right one in Mark’s eyes is not me.
“Do men hit on my daughter a lot?”
“No, I’m usually with her. I think they mostly assume she’s with me.” How do you feel about that?
He laughs. “Good. Keep that up.”
I plan to. Officially. Exclusively.
I’ve planted the seed. No need to go any further now. Tex’s up next. In a couple of weeks, she’ll tell him that after we’ve spent time together, she’s starting to see me in a new light. Hopefully, it won’t be a surprise for Mark.
This will also help with the pictures that seem to turn up every-fucking-where. Tex and I have been spotted together many times, and at the minute, no one has been reading anything to it. That’ll probably change soon, but at least Mark knows we’re together more at after-parties, so he won’t question us.
Mark starts to walk, and I follow him. A dull ache is starting to spread across my forehead. There is so much riding on Mark taking this well, and there’s not much room for error.
I can handle Mark being angry with me but not with her. I don’t ever want to do anything to come between them. They’re rock solid, and that’s how it needs to stay.
Speaking of rock-solid relationships, I get my phone from my jeans pocket and dial my grandparents’ house. I’ve not spoken to them in a couple of days. It’s hard to find time to do everything, and they’re always in bed by nine p.m.
“Hello?” Nan says. Her voice is sleep-filled and worried.
“So, I might’ve missed a few calls…”
“Kitt Daniels, you are not too old to ground. And do you have any idea of the time?”
“Sorry. I just wanted to check in.”
“Your aunt showed me pictures. It looks like you’re enjoying yourself.”
“What’s with the tone, Nan?”
“What’s with the womanising, Kitt?”
Oh, fuck.
“That’s not what I’m doing.” Anymore.
“How is Texas?”
Nan loves Tex. She never had a daughter, and I’m her only grandchild, so she instantly took to my girl.
“She’s doing good,” I say. I mouth, My nan, to Tex as we walk into my dressing room.
Tex holds her hand out.
“Nan, I’m passing you over.”
Tex takes the phone and flops on the sofa. Looks like I’m not talking to my nan anymore today. Leaving them to it, I get ready to go out.
I’ve just finished when Texas hangs up. Milo, Jimmy, Mark, and Cooper are in here now, too.
“Your nan said bye and to call her soon.”
I take my phone back, and Tex’s eyes narrow when I stroke the back of her hand.
Coop claps his hands. “Let’s go get fucked up!”
Mark turns to me. “This is why I trust you with her.”
I swallow a whole lot of guilt as I smirk. Texas looks away and wraps her arms around her chest. This is especially hard on her. She shares most things with her dad, and something this big, she wants him to know.
“She’ll be fine with me, Mark.”
An hour later, and we’re drinking whiskey like it’s water, sitting around a massive table with so many celebrities that I feel a little overwhelmed. Apparently, I’m one of them now. I don’t feel it.
Texas is sitting so close that she might as well be on my lap, but no one bats an eyelid—except for Milo. He’s smirking and periodically wiggling his eyebrows or pretending to slit his throat because that’s what he thinks Mark will do to me when he finds out.
I mouth, Fuck off, and he throws his head back, laughing.
He’s drunk already. His dark eyes look about three shades lighter with the pissed glaze.
Tex leans in, and her mouth is dangerously close to my ear. I shudder.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” she says.
“Guilt will do that to you.”
It was only an hour ago that Mark said he trusted me. Now, my hand is on his daughter’s thigh under the table.
“Why do you feel guilty?”
I’m struggling with it hard, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Nothing will stop me from wanting her or enjoying being with her, but the guilt makes me feel sick.
“You know why. Mark took me under his wing, taught me everything I need to know about this industry, put us under the radar of the right people, gave us a spot on their tour, agreed to support our tour, and all he’s ever asked in return is that we don’t mess with you. I owe my career to him, Tex, and I couldn’t even do the one thing he demanded in return.”
She avoids eye contact. “Right.”
I know she feels bad about this, too. She would never intentionally go against her dad’s wishes.
“What does that mean for us?”
“Nothing,” I whisper, trying to make this look like a normal, non-intimate conversation. “I’ll deal with it the same way you are.”
Chewing her lip, she closes her eyes and then looks up at me. God, I’ll never get used to the way she sees me.
“Why does this feel like the end?”
“I don’t know. It’s not, Tex. There will never be an end, not between us. This. Is. Not. Over.”
Her eyes fill with tears.