With the Band (With the Band #1)

They both glance down at me, but after a heartbeat, they do sit.

Kitt takes a breath and places his hands back on the table. I want to put mine over the top and show solidarity. Maybe it will show Dad what I’m having a rubbish time explaining, that Kitt and I are not messing around and that we sure as hell aren’t casual.

“Paris is when I truly realised why certain things were bothering me—Texas looking at other men, for example. She started to get to me, piss me off, in ways she shouldn’t have been able to.”

I give him a look, but he’s focused on my dad. Charming.

“We argued, and to make it up to her, I took her to the Eiffel Tower at night. Ted was with us,” he adds before Dad can blow up on that one. “It’s where I understood why things had changed. I realised I like her way more than I ever intended to.”

Dad’s eyes cut to me, and I sit up straight. There is so much judgement in his gaze, and I can’t blame him for an ounce of it.

“You’ve been together since Paris?” he spits, his face turning red with rage.

I tap my knees under the table. “Yes. I’ve liked him for a lot longer than that, Dad, and I swear, this isn’t some casual thing. We haven’t jumped into this.”

“That’s not what it sounds like from Kitt’s perspective. He said himself that he started to feel differently in Paris, and that’s when you two started…this. That was…what? Nineteen days ago? Am I right, Kitt? Isn’t that when you started to feel differently about my child?”

Kitt grits his teeth when I’m referred to as a child, but he lets it go. “Partly. I’ve always been close to Tex, but I never realised what that meant until Paris. I understand how this looks, Mark, but I’m crazy about her. We’re together exclusively, and there’s not one woman on earth I would risk losing her over.”

Is it possible for your heart to explode? Like properly explode?

I almost have to fan myself. His words are too much. They make me ache in the best possible way. I can never get enough of hearing how much I mean to him, especially after wanting him for so long.

“I feel the same, Dad. We both appreciate that this will take some adjusting for you, and we owe you a huge apology for the way you found out. We probably need to have a few conversations about things we’ve discussed in the past, but I’m happy with Kitt, like lottery-win happy. So, please, can you try to be happy for us?”

Dad’s mouth straightens into a grim line that makes him look harsh. It’s not a great sign of things to come, but I’m not giving up on this. Whatever happens and whatever rubbish Kitt and I have to go through, it will work out because it has to. Dad will never be able to stay angry with me forever.

If he flies off the handle now, I know it’ll only be temporary. He doesn’t know me and Kitt together. All he knows is that I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve when it comes to the people I truly care about, and Kitt has a terrible track record with women.

It’s easy to see why Dad’s not doing cartwheels over this.

He rubs eyes that match mine. “I think, for the remainder of the tour, you should go back to London and stay with your mum.”

My mouth drops in shock. What the hell? Did those words just leave his mouth?

Kitt leans forward. “Mark, can’t we talk this through a little more?”

Yes! I like his idea. I don’t want to stay with Jennifer, The Oven. I love it on tour, and I want to be where Kitt is. I have to be where he is.

“I don’t think talking is going to achieve anything, Kitt,” Dad spits through his teeth. He thumps his fists on the table.

Dad looks angry. His face is red, and his eyes are shooting daggers at the man I love.

Bloody perfect.

What did you expect? He saw you getting fucked against a bus!

“Dad, please,” I beg. My eyes fill with tears.

He’s never tried to send me to Jennifer before. Not once in my entire existence has he ever asked for help in raising me or dealing with a particular issue—even puberty. We kind of found our own way through it together, often having some very awkward conversations along with a tampon demonstration in a glass of water that I would love to erase from my memory. We’ve worked through every single issue without her, and now, when I’m nineteen, he wants Jennifer to take over for a while.

“Dad, I don’t need parenting anymore.”

His face hardens, and his jaw twitches. “You obviously need something, Texas, because the old you would never have lied to me or had sex in a public place!”

I turn my head, unable to stand the look of disappointment. “I’m sorry, okay? We didn’t want to lie, but we needed to figure out what this was, and there’s no way we could’ve done that if you knew. I’m not asking you to be okay with this right away, but can you look at this from our perspective?”

“No.”