My mother ruins everything good. It’s a statement both mean and true. She just called to wish me a happy birthday, but she doesn’t “just” anything and I know that. I’ve always known that. But to start my birthday with a demand that I ditch the tour to visit my dying father ... it’sjustabout the worst.
That, and she interrupted the kiss.
The kiss. Until a few hours ago, I thought I’d been kissed before. I was wrong. Oh, God, how I was wrong. Until the moment Trent’s lips locked with mine, I believed kissing wasn’t important. Simply a gateway to something more. Again I was wrong. If I could, I would kiss Trent again. And again ... and again.
And that’s bad, bad, bad.
I can’t kiss him. I can’t. I shouldn’t. It’s not a good idea.
I know.I know. So why the fuck won’t my body and heart get in line?
I’ve been pondering the question all day. While the band leaves for local radio interviews. As I devour a stack of pancakes by myself from a hole in the wall diner. When I try to write songs about hurt and sadness, but they end up sounding more like love. Through my sound check. My show. And yes, even as I meet fans and sell merchandise alongside Jax while Trent serenades the outdoor amphitheater. Jax finds it quite comical that my gaze drifts to the stage on more than one occasion. I consider going backstage so I can watch the band play all up close and personal. So I can stare at Trent. But even I realize that’s not good for my crush.
I’m still confused when I get back to the bus and step into the shower. It doesn’t help that I imagine my hands are Trent’s as I rub soap over my skin. Around and down my breasts. Between my aching thighs. While I finger myself. I bite my lip hard when I come so I don’t call out his name.
Yeah. Some birthday this has been.
The guys enter the bus post-show just as I step out of the bathroom. Trent’s eyes land on the towel wrapped snugly around my chest before he darts his gaze away. No one else seems to notice, their laughter and usual banter reaching me where I stand. A breath I didn’t realize I was holding rushes from my lips as I lock the bedroom door behind me. I can’t let this get to me, mess with the comfortable vibe we’ve established, or fuck with my head any longer.
“Get your shit together,” I mutter to myself as I pull on my post-show wear. I’m sure the guys will go out tonight after they shower and change. We have a few hours before it’s time to roll onward to the next city. I will use that time to get my head straight.
“Hey, Lexi!” Sean raps at the door. “Come out with us, okay?”
“I don’t really feel like going out tonight,” I yell back. Because I don’t. I hear the stories when they return from a night of debauchery. I don’t need to witness that firsthand. As much as Trent’s not mine, I can’t stand the idea of him with someone else. No, I prefer to hold on to the rare possibility that our kiss today was something special.
“Lex.” Sean’s voice is close, as though he’s right up against my door. “Come out just for a sec, okay? We need to talk.”
We need to talk. My mind reels with the possibilities. We need to talk about what? My eyebrow styling payback? My father, maybe? I wouldn’t put it past my mother to call their manager with the news. The kiss? No. God, I hope Trent didn’t share that with anyone. I’m an anxious mess as I slip a worn knit sweater over my head and step out the door.
They’re quiet. Too quiet for men who never shut up, and the second I turn the corner I gasp. My hand goes straight to my lips because this isn’t anything I expected.
Sean holds aloft the circular white and pink cake. “A little birdie told us it was someone’s birthday today.” He grins, his smile as wide as those of Iz, Austin, and Trent, who hang back in the kitchen seats.
“What? No. You guys!” It’s all I can manage as tears, happy ones, gather in the corners of my eyes. I blink them back before they can escape, and take the open chair next to Trent when Austin motions for me to sit.
“After cake we have presents, too,” Sean announces, setting the cake on the table.
“This is like, really sweet.” My face physically hurts, my smile stretches so wide.
“Wait until you see the gifts. You may change your mind,” Iz teases and the vape I gave him clicks when he inhales.
“Happy Birthday Badass. Aww, you guys are too good to me,” I tease when I read the piping aloud, but their smiles only grow. “So, when do we get to eat this?” My mouth salivates at the whipped buttercream frosting.
“After we fucking sing, of course!”
They break out into this grunged, rocked out version of the Happy Birthday song in which Austin plays air guitar and Iz taps two forks for a drum solo that makes me wonder if they practiced.
“Cut the first slice.” Trent’s fingers brush against mine when he places the knife in my grip. He leans closer and dips his chin to whisper in my ear. “And don’t forget to make a wish.”
Flipping my lip ring with my tongue, I wish for the first thing that pops into my mind, and slice through the cake, so pretty it looks too good to eat. The guys cheer and clap and I get caught up in their joy, laughter leaving my mouth as I dish out pieces for each of us.
“I want the ass!” Austin reaches for the slice in which I cut the word badass in two.
Trent slaps his hand away. “No. You get bad. If anyone gets Lexi’s ass, it’s me.”
Everyone laughs at his joke, but my lips part, goosebumps cover my flesh, and when I turn my chin to meet his gaze, an involuntary shiver shoots down my spine.Fuck. Wow. Please. That’s what Trent’s stare does to me. As the smile drops from my face, so does his, and his eyes, they’re full of so much scrutiny that I do something strange. I back down from their challenge, looking away first and shoving a huge bite of cake in my mouth.
As soon as the fluffy goodness hits my taste buds I moan with appreciation. Sugary sweetness overload. “Oh, my God. This is so good.”
