When she finished she looked away from me, silence taking over the room.
“Bex,” I said, reaching over and pulling her towards me. “That song . . . I’ve never heard you play that.”
“I can’t sing it in front of an audience,” she said, shifting her eyes away from me again. “I wrote it years ago. No one has ever heard it before. Before you.”
“It’s too raw,” I said. She nodded. What was happening right now? I was afraid to know but terrified to stop it. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”
“I know we’re both fucked up,” she said, straightening her spine and looking directly at me. “There’s shit that’s happened to me that I’m not sure I can ever talk about. I’m the first person to shy away from any sort of emotional connection to anyone. Ask Natalie or Beau. And we agreed that this was a no-strings, don’t-get-attached-thing.”
“But that’s not what it is anymore,” I finished for her, shocking the shit out of myself. Where the hell had that come from? Bex’s eyes widened, the same surprise evident on her face. “We both said that, yes. You’re leaving tomorrow, and I have shit I have to deal with in Colorado.”
Bex nodded. “I’m gone for a month. Johnny . . .”
She worked the sheet with her fingers again. I wanted to know so badly what was going through her head, because fuck if I knew what was going through mine. It was a jumbled mass of wires trying to reconnect.
“Come with me,” she said finally.
Out of all of the things I thought she might say, that wasn’t one of them. “What?”
She nodded, her jaw firm like she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I’d seen this Bex enough to recognize determination when I saw it. “Come with me. On tour.”
My mouth dropped open, my mind reeling. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? Go on tour with her? Around the country? On a bus? With her band? “Bex . . .”
“Before you say no, think about it. Whatever ‘business’ you have in Colorado, we’re going to be there next week. Denver, right?” I nodded. “Yep, we’ll be there too. So you can do whatever business you have there, and then keep going with me.”
Could I go with her on tour? What did that mean for what we were? That sure as shit didn’t mean we were just fucking.
I wanted to deflect and say something witty or funny or even shitty to push her away. But I couldn’t make myself do any of those.
“My mom died from complications of childbirth,” Bex said when I didn’t respond. “I never knew her.”
I looked at her face, so strong and confident in her words. Her voice hadn’t even shook when she’d said that. “That’s terrible. I’m sorry.” She looked at me expectedly, waiting for me to share something with her.
“My parents kicked me out when I was eighteen,” I said, the safest thing I could tell her.
She laced my fingers with hers. “That’s terrible.” Both of us knew it was just the tip of the iceberg, but it was a start. I still couldn’t answer her about going on tour. I wasn’t worried about the money or missing work at The Outrigger. I was terrified for what this meant for what was happening with us.
I already knew.
“My dad was arrested when I was seven and I haven’t seen him since. He’s still in prison.”
I inwardly cringed. I wanted to know what he was arrested for but was afraid to ask. Great. I wasn’t any better than her scumbag father, an ex-con with a record. Well, maybe after next week I wouldn’t be, and I wouldn’t have to worry about that.
“The only woman I’ve ever loved was killed before I could save her.”
Bex’s eyes widened. “Fuck.” I nodded, both of us silent as she absorbed that. She didn’t ask me for more information, and I loved that about her. “I lived in ten foster homes from the time I was seven until I was sixteen.”
“Ten? Fucking shit, why?”
“No one wanted me,” Bex said matter-of-factly. “I was a shit on purpose. I didn’t want any of them to love me. I’d loved my dad and look where that got me.” Hell, did I get that.
“My parents wanted me to go to school and then take over their business, and when I said no, they cut me off.” This was way safer than the rest of the story.
“Fuckers,” Bex said, a small smile on her face. It felt . . . good, liberating to share things with someone else. Maybe Julia had been right. Kind of.
Bex crawled over to me and folded herself in my lap. She traced the tattoos on my chest. “That’s the most I’ve ever shared with anyone.”
I pressed my lips to the top of her head, stroking my hand down her back as we sat in silence, both soaking in what had happened over the last few minutes. “Me too,” I whispered. “Not even my sister knows all of that.”
She tilted her head back to look at me. “Really?”
I nodded. “Really.”
“Beau and I were in my last foster home together. Natalie too, but she was aging out right when I got there so I didn’t get to know her well until after.”
Ah, fuck. No wonder they were so close. “They’re your family.”
“The only people that have ever been there for me,” she said, folding herself back into my chest. “If it wasn’t for them, I’d probably be dead.”
I had a million questions about that but I kept them to myself. Asking questions meant getting questions in return. I’d shared more than I’d ever intended to.
“I have to go,” she said finally. “The bus rolls out at three in the morning and I have to get some sleep.”
“Stay,” I said, holding her slight body to mine. I wasn’t sure what my answer could be or should be about going with her on tour, but I didn’t want her to go. I needed her body wrapped around mine and her pussy shuddering around my dick a few more times before I let her go.
“Come with me,” Bex said again, tipping her face up to mine. I pressed my lips to hers in what was the softest kiss we’d ever shared. It stirred a feeling in me I hadn’t allowed myself to have in a very long time, and I wasn’t sure I welcomed it.
I did the only thing I could do at that moment. I laid Bex down on the bed and put my face between her legs, effectively stopping all communication except ‘oh my god more,’ and ‘yes, right there’.
The rest would have to wait.
Bex
I stood next to the bed, looking down at Johnny as he slept. I had to get going before I started getting shouty texts from Natalie, but I was torn. Should I wake him up and ask him again if he wanted to go with me?
I couldn’t believe I’d been that stupid to ask him multiple times to go with me. He’d never answered me and had looked nothing but shocked that I’d asked at all. After we’d had sex two more times we’d both passed out. It was do or die time.
I didn’t want to leave him.
But if he wanted me, he would’ve told me.
Damn you, Bex, you let yourself get attached to him. This was never part of the deal. So what that you both shared things with each other. You can’t ask the man you’ve known for only a few weeks to move in with you. What the fuck is your problem? You aren’t a forever kind of girl, remember? Asking a guy to live on a tour bus or a hotel room with you for a month is asking him to commit. Have you lost your fucking mind?
“Yes, I have,” I whispered, tracing the tattoo on Johnny’s arm. “Take care, Johnny.”
With that, I grabbed my purse and shoes and made my way down the dark hallway. We’d heard his sister and brother-in-law come home hours ago, and I for sure didn’t want to make any noise and wake them up. That would be awkward.
I reached the living room and stopped to slip on my shoes. Just as I was about to make it to the front door, a voice from behind me made me jump and drop my purse.
“Fuck,” I hissed as the contents of my purse went rolling around the floor. A light flipped on behind me, and I turned to see one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen smirking at my shocked reaction. Obviously it was Julia, and shit if the family resemblance wasn’t strong between them. She was just as striking as he was.