Holding up my thumb, I reply, “I got it, Dad.”
He’s seen so many celeb teens with drinking problems that he’s obsessed with me not adding to the statistic. He must stress about raising me to be a well-rounded, normal person at least ten times a day. If Dad could see me at after-parties once he’d left, he would crack down even more. Thankfully, Kitt, Cooper, and Milo know when to keep their mouths shut.
“You know, you’re a bit too old to be getting a limit from daddy,” Kitt says, smirking.
I smile as sweetly as I can. “Bugger off.”
Kitt is right, but my relationship with my dad is a little…different. For the last nineteen years, it’s only been us, and he’s busted his arse to make up for the fact that Jennifer isn’t really interested. That’s kind of left us in a place where I’m still a child to him, and I automatically seek permission. It’s unhealthy, but that’s where we are.
“Open it, please,” I say, handing him my bottle.
Kitt pops the lid with his teeth and hands it back. There’s a bottle opener in Jimmy’s hand that I could have used, but I wanted it in Kitt’s mouth.
See? Totally well-rounded and normal.
“Thanks,” I say before taking a swig.
“So, on a scale of one to pissing your pants, how excited are you right now?” he asks.
“Pissing my pants,” I reply. “What about you?”
“I’m holding it in.”
“You know you get moodier every time I see you, right? Be more enthusiastic.”
“I thought I was supposed to? Goes with the territory and all that.”
I shake my head. Not on my party bus. “It’s absolutely not allowed. No one wants to travel with miserable, so please cheer up.”
“I’m not miserable.” He puts his beer down and holds his hands up. “Right now, I’m just not…”
“Pissing yourself?”
Laughing, he replies, “Exactly. Pissing will commence on the bus, I promise.”
“I really wish your scale wasn’t so disgusting. We could have a scale of one to bursting into impromptu song in a mall.”
“You’re such a girl.”
“Thanks for noticing.” Sometimes, it doesn’t seem like he does.
His eyes flick down to my chest. There is nothing casual about it, and he doesn’t even make an attempt to try to conceal his perv. Kitt goes for it every time. He’s so sure of himself. I clear my throat, sweeping the room to see if anyone is looking. Thankfully, no one is. Kitt looks up, grins, and shrugs one shoulder. He doesn’t care that I caught him because he’d intended me to.
“I apologise,” he says, grinning in a way that’s clear he’s not at all sorry.
This is what we’re like all the time. There’s a lot of banter and flirty moments that mess with my head. Then, he’ll turn cold or go distant, and I won’t know why. But at least the awkwardness—on my part—in the kitchen is over.
We spend most of the night sitting on the sofa together, talking and occasionally chatting with everyone else.
Tonight though, most of our focus is on each other. A little while ago, he started to lean in closer, so now, our arms are touching.
“Okay,” he says, “what’s the first thing you’re going to do in…France?”
“Easy. Eat cheese.”
“Italy?”
I don’t even need to think. “Ice cream. Or crepes. Or both. America?” I ask.
“Shit, that’s a hard one. Corn dog.”
“Pancakes! Hershey!” I say.
“Oh my God, will you two stop talking food?” Cooper says. “We’re going on tour to rock, not to make some lame cooking show, you boring fucks.”
I laugh along with Kitt. Coop really has a way with words. Kitt makes a wanking gesture with his hand and then grabs another beer from the cooler off the coffee table.
As soon as Coop goes back to listing names of celebrity women he wants to bed, Kitt starts another conversation about things we’re going to do on tour. He sits even closer to me, his arm firmly wedged against mine. I feel warmth wherever he touches me, and it’s starting to drive me insane.
You can’t kiss him. It won’t end well.
I smile up at him, desperate not to look like I’m completely crazy about him. He bumps my shoulder and sips his beer, like nothing is wrong.
Same as always.
Texas is in love with Kitt.
Kitt only likes Texas.
TEXAS
TUESDAY, MAY 5
OXFORD, ENGLAND
I stand beside the massive tour bus in the cool night air and sigh. As much as I love our house, I also love being on tour. I don’t get to see a lot of the countries we visit, but I love the freedom of traveling.
Jimmy bought the bus a couple of years back and had it heavily modified. Upstairs has bedrooms and a shower room, and downstairs has large seating areas and a very small kitchen. The bedrooms are small cupboard-size singles, but we all get a bed and the privacy of having a door rather than the typical bunk-bed style with curtains. The two drivers and two full-time security guys have the bunk beds, but they each have a door.
“You ready, Texas?” Will asks.