Sinking onto the worn couch, I tried not to replay the events from this morning, but it was impossible to deny a moment to relive Houston’s kiss. If I chose to see it, the silver lining was that I no longer had any secrets.
The problem was that they still had all of theirs.“I knew you were a dick. I had no idea you were this cold.”
When we returned to the bus, the first thing I noticed was that Braxton was missing. She always came straight home after a show to eat, shower, and ignore us the rest of the night with her headphones in and music on full blast. Sometimes she’d talk to her friends, but never any of her family. Now if I asked her why now, she’d probably tell me to shit a rock or something.
Houston shrugged, making me want to break his collarbone. I had to give him credit, though. He was pulling off pretending he wasn’t regretting his latest fuck-up.
No, I wasn’t the only one who had them. I was just the only one who got any shit.
“Think what you want, but it was for her sake, too,” Houston claimed.
I caught Rich rolling his eyes and smirked. Interesting. “Oh, thank heavens. I was afraid you only kicked her out for you.”
“She was distracting. I did it for everyone since you both seem to forget that she’s off-limits.”
“You had your tongue down her throat!” Rich spat. His fists were balled when he shot to his feet. One wrong word from Houston, and he was swinging. “We saw you.”
“I know,” Houston admitted with a solemn nod. I didn’t think he felt bad for kissing Braxton, but I believed he wished he regretted it.
“If she hadn’t stopped you,” Rich continued, “would you have gone further?”
“Of course not,” Houston lied through his teeth. I think he’d forgotten that we were there, watching from the moment he asked her if she wanted to come for him.
I snorted.
“Whatever,” I cut in before Rich could argue. “This is getting lame. I’m ordering pizza.”
No one said shit as I pulled out my phone. I already knew what they liked, so they didn’t bother to make requests. After ordering the pies, I remembered that we hadn’t stocked up thanks to that stupid, useless pact, so I stepped off the bus, slapped some cash in the hands of a roadie, and sent him off to find booze. Alone, I lingered outside despite the sweltering Arizona heat. Even at night, my balls felt like they were baking.
Thirty seconds must have passed before a thought entered my head. The moment it did, I started for the bus next to ours. I wasn’t the type to talk myself out of things. It’s the reason I caused the most trouble.
I knew Braxton was awake. She was a night owl like the rest of us. The only morning person was Houston. No matter how late he turned in, he was always up bright and early the next morning. By the time I reached her doorstep, I had my phone out once again.
When in Rome…
Except, this territory that we’d stumbled upon didn’t have any rules. This was the first time the three of us had been after the same girl. It would help if one of us had even the smallest claim to her, but she didn’t seem to know who she wanted, either. She went on a date with me, kissed Houston, and treated Rich like her white knight.
Braxton wasn’t Rome. She was no-man’s-land.
Sighing, I sent her a text.
What kind of pizza do you like?
It was a lame attempt to get her to talk to me, but I had nothing else to go on. We weren’t friends. Once again, Houston had made that decision for everyone.
Future GF: Not hungry.
It had taken her longer than I liked to respond. My response was short and to the point.
Did I ask?
I imagined her annoyed sigh from my lonely watch under the moon. The buses where our roadies bunked were parked farther away, but I could still hear them enjoying their night.
It must have been nice to live free.
Bound had all of life’s luxuries except one.
Future GF: Cheese…with pineapples.
I groaned as I typed back. You’re definitely not marriage material. Men like meat and girls who like meat.
Future GF: I’ll get over it.
I chuckled under my breath when I read her response. She was quicker to text back that time.
Braxton was a challenging book to crack open, but fuck if those pages weren’t worth it.
I made a quick call to the same pizza place and ordered a cheese pie—reluctantly with pineapples—and then stood outside for the hour it took both orders to arrive. The time quickly passed since I spent it texting Braxton.
Returning to the bus, I dumped all but two of the pizza boxes on our dining table, grabbed one of the beer cases the roadie had procured and started back out the door.