Sean nods, his face fighting a full smile. “Don’t forget about Slutty Sundays.”
“I am a reformed manwhore. I admit it.” Trent chuckles and lays out his cards. “And I just beat all your sorry asses.” Four aces. Yeah, he did.
“Fuck that.” Sean throws his cards down face first and takes the deck from Trent. “I’ll deal next.”
“Hey, there’s something we need to talk about.” Trent’s gaze turns somber and his voice lowers.
Returning his stare, I’m proud of myself for keeping my features neutral. “Okay.” Shit. Why do I suddenly feel I’m being called into my father’s den for a lecture?
“Opal’s important to us.” Austin interrupts. “All of us.”
“Okay . . .” My gaze floats from Trent to Austin. Is this their way of warning me off? Because just come out and say it.
“She’s not used to this lifestyle, the road, the spotlight, and I don’t want to see her get hurt.” Austin levels his gaze, impressive since he’s easily three sheets to the wind.
“Okay, yeah. I get it.” I nod. I wonder whether Opal is still awake or even listening. The sleeping quarters aren’t soundproof, but if she has headphones or is fast asleep she wouldn’t be able to hear. I debate what to say next because all three stare back, expectantly waiting for more. I won’t tell them how drawn I am to her. Or how every time she does something sweet it makes me want to get down and dirty. Instead I reach for a truth that should keep everyone happy. “She’s really special.”
“See, man!” Trent clasps Austin on the back. “Told you. Nothing to worry about. He gets it. She’s good. We’re all good.”
Austin relaxes, but continues staring.
I’ve practiced the innocent look for most of my life. It’s the way I’ve dodged a lot of shit. Pasting on my most charming grin, I hold my hand across the table for Austin. “We good?”
He gives in to a grin, returning my handshake with enthusiasm. “Yeah, we’re good.”
15
Opal
I’m notsure what I expected when Trent and Lexi invited me to join the tour and live on the road, but this is definitely not it. The outside of the bus, wrapped in the band’s latest album cover and larger than life portraits, screams luxury and fame. But the inside? It’s nothing more than an over-glorified trailer. And I’ve been in plenty of those growing up in Destin, Texas. Sure, everything’s shiny and new, but slapping stainless steel over the appliances or dark woods on the cupboards doesn’t make it any more than what it is. A tiny home on wheels.
The thing is, I like it here. It’s more comfortable than the mansion, and on the road we’ve established a sort of routine. As bizarre as it sounds, life almost feels normal. This past week it’s as if we’re in this tiny bubble, the guys and me. Sure, they cuss and sometimes they’re too crass, but beyond that they make me feel special. Important. Wanted.
It’s not only because I bake treats or clean up, even though they sing my praises when I do. In this band of brothers not connected by blood, but by the love of music and a common goal, I feel as if maybe I’m a part of it all, too. As if we’re almost a family. Belonging is something I’ve dreamed of since childhood, and for the first time, it might actually be a reality.
Oh, and the flirting is nice, too. I have no doubt Austin and Leighton’s intentions lie about as far as the next stop, but still I’ll take it. Never have I felt more beautiful, powerful, and womanly than I do when those boys shower me with attention. Especially when they’re vying for who gets to give me my next guitar lesson. I finally made an alternating schedule. I swear, why are men so competitive? I doubt neither really cares as much about spending their free time teaching me to play, they just can’t stand the other monopolizing my attention.
They have no clue how much they’re toying with my heart. Or how confusing it is to be attracted to two men at the same time. I’m not that kind of girl. At least I never thought it possible. But sure enough, my mind practically turns to putty for either man. They have no clue. Or that I’m a virgin. And yet, I’m willing and at their mercy with one flirty line or bad boy grin. Not something I’m entirely proud of, but after spending so many years repressing every sexual thought, it’s empowering to be desired, if only for a short time. Lord knows I wouldn’t know the first thing to do if either of them made a move.
Speaking of insanely sexy men, today is Austin’s turn to play teacher, and I find his smile incredibly distracting as he demonstrates a chord progression on one of the songs I want to learn. “Like that. Got it?”
“Yeah.” My voice comes out huskier than I intend and maybe I’m projecting, but I swear his eyes heat as they meet mine. Before I take the guitar, my cell pings from where it rests on the floor between us.
Lexi: Checking in. Everything good?
I glance over at Austin, who’s positively reading my text messages. He gives me a look that says,yeah you caught me, so what?I roll my eyes and reply before she begins to worry.
Me: All good. You?
Lexi: Missing my favorite people. Two more weeks to go!
Me: I know! I miss you, too.
Lexi: It’s killing me not to be there. Guys treating you good?
I hesitate before answering since I know Austin’s peering over my shoulder. An idea strikes and I fight to hold back a smile. For as much as he messes with me, this is fair play. I type out the text I have no intention of sending.
Me: Everyone is really sweet. Well, except for Austin. He’s a dirty pervert.
