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I can’t say that I’m excited to go to Miami for the better part of the summer on my off time. I’ve become partial to Laguna Beach where we’re alone and unbothered since neither of us are anywhere close to that lifestyle. I was even hoping she could come to my place some over the summer if her parents were cool with it. That’s shot to shit now.
I’m not sure what this trip is going to be like, honestly. We’re the odd couple. Unlike the others, marriage and kids are many years off for us, and that is one thing I’m sure as hell not going to rush.
A part of me is unsure how to blend when we’re in a different phase of life than them, and I’ve never felt that way about my best friends. We’ve never been here before. We’ve always moved from one phase of life to the next together, and I’ve always thought we’d have families at the same time too; at least before everything happened with my parents. After that, I didn’t think much about the future in terms of that at all.
I’m trying not to let it drive a wedge where there shouldn’t be one, but the idea of spending all my time off with kids is unappealing when I don’t have my own. The entertainment will likely be vastly different than pre-parenthood when the alcohol was flowing for at least the guys and the band was still at the forefront of their minds.
In the beginning Gabby wasn’t pregnant, so it was half and half once Paxtyn came into the picture. Now they have a kid plus one on the way, which is still a mind-fuck to me—discovering you have a kid after six years. I wouldn’t want to be in Maddox’s shoes. Meeting Madden when we moved Maddox and Gabby into the basement was a shocker. I’m still weirded out by it.
Now the other two have small babies. All I can imagine is breastfeeding and crying kids hindering a good time. I know my sister didn’t drink when she was nursing. And I don’t expect the other three dickwads to stray from their women. I wouldn’t if it were me.
When Riggan’s baby was born, it was a short trip, so there wasn’t much to adjust to. By the time I needed a break I was leaving. This is extended, and I have a feeling it’s going to get cramped quickly.
I know Riggan still has faith in the band now that he’s happy, and because of all he’s gone through over the past few years, I keep forcing myself to give it a shot. That’s what friends do, but the reality is, a dream for fame takes a lot of work in ways that require the band to be in the same place, like songwriting, putting a melody to the lyrics, constant practice to perfect it, gigs anywhere you can get a spot to play. It’s a never-ending hustle to put yourself out there. It’s not something we can do spread out, which is why I considered quitting.
I have no desire to move to Miami. I’ve made my life in Mississippi. Now, I’m with Paxtyn, and I’m not giving up any more time with her than I already have to. She’s also stuck in Laguna for at least another year. I’m not trying to piss her parents off either. With too many guys, that’s all it took.
When this thing between us continued, I did my research. I’m very aware that while Florida law is a little more lenient in terms of our ages when this first started, California law is cut and dry. Under eighteen is jailbait for me. We don’t go anywhere a license is required until she’s of age—her mom’s suggestion. It’s a miracle Paxtyn’s mother is even letting me date her daughter with her being an attorney.Somepeople actually do look at matters on a case-by-case basis.
Paxtyn is mine to keep if I have anything to say about it. My friends have a better shot of getting me permanently to Hollywood than Miami, and they’re likely in the same mindset. I don’t see it working. We had our shot when we were younger. Making it wasn’t in the cards for us, and those opportunities don’t usually come around more than once. Musicians are a dime a dozen, and to me, it’s not something that is going to come easy for a bunch of guys with families and full-time jobs. It’s next to impossible.
I blink, clearing the haze of thoughts from my mind as the automatic doors continuously open and close from something setting off the sensor. It drifts a lot these days. It’s dark out—a hot summer night as we’re settled into June.
I’m growing impatient as I stare at the automatic double doors, people coming out of them back-to-back, none of them her. I told her we were going to stay at my house, but I ended up packing my shit to keep my mind off us being apart when I’m not working and booked a room at one of the casinos. We have to be back here for our flight tomorrow. I’d rather eliminate the hour and a half drive one way for more time together where we have privacy.
Her committing to a summer in Miami when we already have limited time between my work schedule and her being in school put me moving to California on hold, which was something I was hoping to accomplish this summer. It’s unlike her, really. I have no idea why she wants to stay more than a couple of weeks, period. It’s a frustrating reality, but hey, friends . . .
I reach in my pocket and pull out my phone, checking for a message from her. Nothing. What’s taking her so long?
I glance to my left and right, trying to occupy my mind. When I turn back toward the center, I catch sight of long Ombré hair behind some middle-aged couple. The smile is present before I can even control my mouth. When I see her, my mouth runs dry, and my heartbeat is pounding in my ears.
She’s wearing some one-piece outfit where it looks like the shorts and the top are sewn together, the sleeveless top white and the shorts black. The white is stark against her tan skin. A neckless decorates her chest, the weight of it settling the fabric between her breasts, drawing attention to them, as if they need it. I don’t know how I’m supposed to tear that thing off, but I’ll find a way.
I push off from where I’m propped against my truck, already taking a step toward her. She smiles at me, her sandaled feet picking up speed. The diamond stud in her nose catches light and sparkles, making my stomach do that weird fluttery shit that only she causes. I’ve just kept it to myself.
God, she’s beautiful. I leveled up with her. I’m intelligent enough to know that. I’ve never taken what Maddox said to heart about me pulling pussy with my shitty attitude, but even God knows I’m at a loss as to how I got her. She’s nothing like the other girls I’ve been with. I was an idiot for a while, but now I’m smart enough to know that when she’s old enough, I’m going to lock it up and knock it up so no one else has a fighting chance of taking her. She’s mine. I’ll come off my tight-wadded ass to make sure it’s impressive when it’s time.
The second she and her rolling suitcase get close enough, I open my arms and pull her against me. She smells incredible. She wraps her arms around me tight, gripping the back of my shirt like she just wants to feel me, like I’m her lifeline. No feeling is better than the first time I see her when I’ve been gone. I think it’s the one thing I’d miss if I got a job close to her. “What took your ass so long?”
She laughs. “I swear my luggage was the last to come out. Miss me?”
“Hell yes,” I say against her ear. “I’m never letting you talk me into this shit again. I don’t know why I used to think sitting on a porch alone with beer was fun. I didn’t last thirty minutes.”
Her laughter returns, making me close my eyes briefly to absorb it. “Well, now I’m here to sit with you.”
I pull back and kiss her on the lips, but only a temporary touch or I’ll want to rip her clothes off. If mouths could fuck, that’s what kissing her would be. It stimulates my cock faster than anything else ever has.
“About that . . .” I reach over and shove the extended handle of her familiar suitcase back down, then grab the whole thing by the stationary handles and shove it on my backseat before opening the passenger side door for her to get in. “Change of plans.”
* * *
I walkinto the room with my hands full of sodas from the machine down the hall and the bucket from the room now filled with ice tucked under my arm. We checked in about an hour ago. Brought our bags to the room after and went to the casino buffet to eat. When we came back, Paxtyn wanted something to mix with the liquor she asked me to pick up from a store on the way since she’s not old enough to go in the casino club or lounge, which is fine with me. I’m not big on bars anyway. I only ever went for a purpose.
I set the cans of soda and the ice-filled bucket down on the dresser by the glasses, the room empty. She came in to call her mom for an update since we’re not staying at my house while I went to get the drinks. She was fine with the plan change, but I knew she would be. Paxtyn is easy. She just wants my attention. I think, in ways, I needed someone like her to know she’s not out looking for someone else.
I swipe up the remote before making my way to the bed, plopping down on it with half my body on and half off, already turning on the TV. I glance around the room as I surf through the channels, looking for something to put it on. The bathroom door is shut with the light on underneath it. I don’t hear any talking, so she must be done with the phone call. “Paxtyn, bring your ass out here,” I shout, expecting her to hurry the hell up.
My eyes go back to the television screen only a moment before the bathroom door opens. A figure takes up my peripheral vision, drawing my eyes toward it when no bitchy comment comes back.
