been after the same girl. It would help if one of us had even the smallest claim to her, but she didn’t seem to know who she wanted, either. She went on a date with me, kissed Houston, and treated Rich like her white knight.
Braxton wasn’t Rome. She was no-man’s-land.
Sighing, I sent her a text.
What kind of pizza do you like?
It was a lame attempt to get her to talk to me, but I had nothing else to go on. We weren’t friends. Once again, Houston had made that decision for everyone.
Future GF: Not hungry.
It had taken her longer than I liked to respond. My response was short and to the point.
Did I ask?
I imagined her annoyed sigh from my lonely watch under the moon. The buses where our roadies bunked were parked farther away, but I could still hear them enjoying their night.
It must have been nice to live free.
Bound had all of life’s luxuries except one.
Future GF: Cheese…with pineapples.
I groaned as I typed back. You’re definitely not marriage material. Men like meat and girls who like meat.
Future GF: I’ll get over it.
I chuckled under my breath when I read her response. She was quicker to text back that time.
Braxton was a challenging book to crack open, but fuck if those pages weren’t worth it.
I made a quick call to the same pizza place and ordered a cheese pie—reluctantly with pineapples—and then stood outside for the hour it took both orders to arrive. The time quickly passed since I spent it texting Braxton.
Returning to the bus, I dumped all but two of the pizza boxes on our dining table, grabbed one of the beer cases the roadie had procured and started back out the door.
“Wait. Where are you going?” Rich shouted after me. He was sitting alone on the couch, looking sad as fuck. Houston was gone, and I didn’t care where. My guess?
He was brooding in his bunk.
“To the fucking moon.”
I stormed off our bus and headed over to Braxton’s with the pizza and beer balanced while I sent another text.
I’m outside your door. Open up.
She was back to making me wait longer than fucking necessary for a simple, goddamn response.
Bummer, she sent when she finally texted back. You should have called first. No one’s home.
I didn’t bother to respond. Braxton was anything but coy, so I knew she wasn’t opening that door. Setting the case of beer on the ground with the pizzas on top, I headed for the bus where Xavier was bunking. He was busy on a call that had to be personal since it was after midnight.
Lucky me.
Snagging the spare keys to Braxton’s rig, I escaped without him asking questions.
Marching back across the lot, I stopped when I noticed the empty ground. Where the hell was the beer and pizza? There wasn’t a person in sight.
Unlocking the bus, I stormed up the steps, and to my surprise…Braxton wasn’t alone.
She was cozy on the couch with Rich, who had the balls to be eating my pizza and beer on top of ruining my plans.
“So that’s how it is? You let him in and not me?”
“He’s nice without a motive,” she responded with no remorse. “How did you even get in here?”
“Spare key.” I teased her by twirling the cheap ring it was attached to around my finger.
“Boundaries, Loren. You need some.”
“Not interested,” I said as I flopped onto the couch next to Rich and spread my arms along the back, “and it’s too late, so don’t bother trying.”
“It’s never too late to grow up, but I digress. Why are you two here? Isn’t being alone with me forbidden?”
I sighed and scratched the stubble growing under my chin. “Houston leads when we’re in the mood to be led.”
“And it was never our decision to kick you off,” Rich mumbled.
I agreed with a nod even though I knew Rich’s rebellion would pass quicker than a shooting star. He wanted too much for us to be friends again and thought being a doormat was the way to do it.
Braxton perked a brow. “So this is an ‘I Hate Houston’ party? Are you sure you don’t need adult supervision?”
“Yup, you’re the guest of honor, and no, unless you’re feeling frisky.” I winked, but she was too busy staring at the ground with this lost look in her eyes.
“I don’t hate Houston.”
“We figured when we caught you kissing him.” And how could I forget his hand up her shirt? Until this morning, I was the only one who’d copped a