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"You heard that?"
"Mal told me."
"You and Mal are speaking?"
He nods. "Never seen you call someone you didn't like by a pet name."
"I don't like Mal and I still call him Strong."
"You don't like that he gets his way more often than you do."
"I don't like that he was willing to throw you under the bus just because—"
"I don't blame him."
"He didn't handle it like an adult."
"And you did?"
Fair enough. Our last tour, Mal discovered that some money went missing. He blamed Kit immediately. Just cause Kit had done a lot of shitty stuff when he was using.
Maybe Mal had his reasons. I don't care. Nobody throws my friends under the bus.
But I can admit that getting wasted after shows didn't do anything to help matters.
Kit hands his bass off to a roadie then motions for me to follow him to the dressing room in the corner.
I do. It's busy with hustle and bustle but no one is paying attention to us. "You have a problem with me calling my wife angel? You call Piper baby every three and a half seconds."
"No shame in wanting to corrupt the good girl." He waits for a roadie to move out of earshot then he leans in to whisper. "You gonna keep pretending like it's normal you got married in Vegas."
"When have I ever been normal?"
"Not relevant." Kit runs a hand through his mass of curly black hair. "You gonna offer more details?"
"Not planning on it."
He cocks a brow.
I say nothing.
His voice drops to a whisper. "No bullshit, why did you marry a stranger?"
I stare back at him.
He stares back at me.
Fuck, I always forget how intense Kit is. No wonder women fall all over themselves trying to unlock his heart. He has this stare that makes you feel like he can see into your soul.
Which is more than I need from a guy, even if he's my closest friend.
"Well?" he asks.
He is my closest friend. And I'm not exactly happy about how this is ending.
I don't usually tell people about shit that makes me unhappy.
I don't usually let people know anything, save for somebody fucking with one of my friends, makes me unhappy.
