That girl has a mouth like a sailor. I’ve heard soft curse words come out of girls’ mouths many times before, but they’re soft, as in “shit, ass, crap,” etc. But the ones that came out of Melanie’s mouth when I asked her to come on tour with Rise Up made me blush.
I guess that should have been my first hint I picked the wrong friend to keep Kylie in line.
I shouldn’t say “in line.” I just want someone to keep an eye on her while I’m performing. I know the games the roadies play every time Rise Up starts our set, and I didn’t want to be worried about them plying Kylie with drinks—or anything else—while I’m on stage. Just the thought of anyone touching her makes the veins in my neck bulge. The only gratification I get is the fact my name is still marked on her skin. No guy she’s slept with since me could have missed it. It makes me glad she didn’t get it covered.
When Kylie’s confused eyes locked with mine three days ago, I knew she was worried about seeing me with groupies. Her eyes darted away when I said, “I don’t bring groupies to my room.” I probably should have said, “I willno longerbring groupies to my room,” and then she may have believed me.
I didn’t get us interconnecting rooms just to keep my eye on her, though. I also wanted to have her close to me. Ever since our confrontation on the tour bus, I can’t get her out of my fucking head. She’s never left my thoughts. Not even when she destroyed me.
When glass being smashed sounds from the room next door, I can no longer rein in my curiosity. I need to know what Kylie and Melanie are up to. When I crank open the interconnecting door, music blasts my eardrums, and smoke filters through my noses. I’m not talking about cigarette smoke, either.
I run my eyes over the room, seeking Kylie. Fuck me, I swear half of San Francisco is in their room.The place is so crammed with people, the sofas are pushed against the outer walls to free up the living room for a mosh pit. Several couples are in various stages of making out, and a DJ is set up in the far back corner.
I walk the entire span of the living area, but I don’t spot Kylie anywhere. Just as I’m about to enter one of the three bedrooms, Melanie saunters out. Her hair is ruffled, and her lips are swollen.
“Where’s Kylie?”
My eyes dart past Melanie’s shoulder, ensuring Kylie isn’t in the room. I swear to God, if I find her making out with some random guy, I’ll lose my shit.
“She’s in the kitchen.” Melanie’s gag has me wanting to step sideways. “Where shealwaysis during our parties.” I shouldn’t love the disdain in her voice, but I do.
I spot Kylie the instant I enter the kitchen. She’s stretching up to reach a bowl in an overhead cupboard, her top riding high enough that the two little dimples in her lower back sneakily peek out. If her jeans were a little lower, I’d also see the waistband of her panties.
When I move to assist her in retrieving the bowl, I’m cut off. Sonny leans over her to seize the bowl she’s after. Kylie darts under his arm before strolling to the island counter, which is covered with unopened bags of chips and pretzels. When she notices me standing in the doorway, she breaks out a smile that has me wanting to fall to my knees.
“Hey.” She empties two bags of chips into an empty bowl before sauntering past me. My cock twitches when her breasts rub my arm when she slides by. There’s enough space between us she could have scooted past without touching me, so I’m confident her innocent brush wasn’t an accident.
I take a moment to relish her wildflower scent before helping myself to a bottle of beer in the fridge. I crack it open on the expensive black granite countertop, not the least bit worried by the large chip it creates. The clean-up bill for this suite will already cost me a fortune, so what’s another expense?
After winking at Sonny, I go search for Kylie. “Game on, motherfucker.”
Kylie had plenty of space to move past me without needing to touch me, but she made sure some part of our bodies connected, but when Sonny got close to her, she fled from him like he has cooties. If that doesn’t tell him he’s out of the game, nothing will.
Upon entering the living area, I see a handful of people sitting in a circle. When I spot an empty bottle of beer spinning in the middle of the group, I can’t help but chuckle. Most of the people playing would easily be over the age of twenty-one.
“And you thought she’d keep me in line.” Kylie is standing so close to me, her hot breaths tickle my earlobe. “How silly were you?”
After taking a swig of my beer, I pivot around to face her. I balk when she’s nowhere in sight.Where the fuck did she go?
I catch the tail end of her just before she darts back into the kitchen. I could wait for her to come back out, but tell me one guy who doesn’t enjoy the chase?
This time, when I enter the kitchen, Kylie is alone. “How often do you play spin the bottle?”
She continues replenishing the snack bowls as a grin curls on her lips. “As often as possible.” She watches the shit-eating grin on my face drop to a frown before finishing her reply, “When I was in the fifth grade.” She winks, her mood super playful. “Do you want to play?”
“Are we still talking about spin the bottle?” I give her a look, one I’m praying she still knows how to read. When she prances my way, I think I have all my ducks in a row… until the strong scent of cranberries fills my nostrils. “How many drinks have you had?”
If her drink of choice tonight has reverted to her all-time favorite, I won’t be able to smell vodka on her breath. I held myself back three nights ago when she was drunk, but with how she’s looking at me now, I doubt I can do it for the second time.
“A few.”
Ignoring the growl rolling up my chest, she curls her hand around mine before attempting to drag me into the living room. I say attempt because I slow her down before we’re even halfway there. “A few as in a handful? Or a few as in you’ve lost count?”
When she doesn’t answer me, I tug her back, stopping her from joining the twenty-plus people playing spin the bottle. “Are you drunk?”
She waggles her brows. “Just a little bit tipsy.”
She hits me with another flirty wink before plopping her backside on the ground in the middle of the circle and folding her legs underneath herself. When Kylie says she’s “just a little bit tipsy,” it means she’s full-on drunk.
