Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
He summoned an arrogant look that only Loren James could. “What makes you think I planned to tell you at all?”
“Because I know you? Because you never seem to keep your mouth shut?”
“When have I ever kissed and told you shit, motherfucker?”
That stopped me dead in my tracks.
Loren was already hysterically laughing, which caused Braxton to peer over her shoulder. Whatever she was thinking, I couldn’t pinpoint as her bored gaze moved between Loren and me. Deciding this discussion was better had without Braxton overhearing, I shoved Loren backstage again, even though we were already late.
“You kissed her?”
He peered down his nose at me even though he only had two inches on me. “Maybe she kissed me.”
“Bullshit,” I spat back. “If something happened, it’s all on you.”
Yup, I was angry at him.
I wanted to fight my best friend over pussy that wasn’t even mine.
“I’m sorry to burst your weird fantasy bubble, but Braxton isn’t as innocent as you think.”
My heart stopped in my chest.
He fucked her.
He fucking fucked her!
How else could he have known? Forcing myself to relax, I started to ask him when he read the look on my face and beat me to the punch. “She told me herself, bro.”
“What makes you think she was telling the truth?”
The look he gave me was half bewilderment, half exasperation. “Why the fuck would she lie?”
“How many extra fingers would you need to count the virgins who told you their cherries were popped so you’d screw them?”
Slipping a stick of gum in his mouth, he said, “Point taken. I don’t think she was lying, though.”
“How do you know?”
“Why does it matter?” He smiled sneakily before blowing a bubble and popping it with his teeth. “You got a secret fetish or something?”
“Get fucked, Loren.”
“I tried,” he mumbled, pushing air from his nostrils. “Believe me, I tried.”
Hope shot through me at hearing that. “She turned you down?”
“We wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t.” The joy that suddenly overtook my expression was wiped away when he said, “She’s got the softest thighs. No way would I leave them this soon.”
Loren walked away before I could demand to know where else he had touched her, and I had no choice but to follow. I could hear the crowd outside getting restless. The show had already begun but little did I know, it wasn’t one that would be happening on a stage.
The show was incredible. The crowds were getting wilder. Word had spread about our success in Los Angeles and San Jose, and curiosity made them hungry.
With each song we performed together, it felt less like I was some weird attachment that Bound couldn’t shake and more like I was Bound.
Mine.
I allowed myself to linger on the fact that I’d claimed them before realizing that it was calmness I felt. They were mine now, but they hadn’t earned me yet.
Rich boarded the bus wearing another hoodie despite us being in the desert and gave me another one of those weird looks. I’ve been getting them ever since the show. He was trying to see past the wall I erected and figure me out, but I didn’t like intruders.
On the other hand, it was only fair that I let him since I’d given Loren the cliff notes to my past. At the time, I didn’t understand why. After two days of the cold shoulder and long, sullen silences from all three of my bandmates, I’ve had time to ruminate.
I wanted to scare him off.
Instead, I dangled fruit in his face and then forbade him to feast from my garden. Now Loren was pissed, and I understood why, but that didn’t mean I would spread my legs to make him feel better.
“You want the shower first?” Rich offered. He was the only one to do so my first two nights on board. I learned quickly not to shower after Loren, who took longer showers than Houston, Rich, and me combined.
“Sure.” I stood and took my dinner plate to the sink. Apparently, Bound traveled with a team of caterers along with a bevy of people eager to do their—our bidding. A girl could get used to this. My dinner usually consisted of cheap wine and string cheese.
After rinsing and sticking my plate in the empty dishwasher, I smiled at Rich, who was busy eyeing one of the three steaming hot plates left on the counter and covertly watching me with the other.
“Thanks, Rich.”
“No problem.” His lips barely moved—I knew because I was admiring them and his piercing a little too closely—as if it wasn’t what he really wanted to say.
I almost stayed to delve into his mind before deciding the distance we’d kept was best.
As I headed to the shower, I wondered where Loren and Houston had disappeared. I’m sure they were out turning Vegas on its head. We had one more show in Vegas tomorrow before heading to Glendale, and then it was Denver, Dallas, Houston, and New Orleans after that. The rest of the cities were a blur within my chaotic thoughts.