Page 127 of Rebel

“Shut up, I’m mad at you,” I grumble as I lift yet another handbag. “I don’t even know where half of this shit came from. I don’t remember this.”

“Oh, we sometimes sneak new things into your closet when you aren’t looking,” he says casually. “We take the tags off and you never notice. That dress you’re wearing? I bought it last week.”

“What the fuck?” I glance down. Shit, is he right?

Fuck me.

“Don’t do that,” I mutter.

“Why? We like spoiling you, and it gives us a sense of satisfaction to see whose clothes you choose.” His eyes darken with lust as he picks up a lacy black dress that covers nothing. “Personally, I can’t wait to see this one.”

“Perverts, all of you. I’m not your doll.”

He slides from the bed, the dress hanging from a finger, and grabs my ass, hauling me to him as he licks my lips. “Why not? You like it when we play with you.”

“I’m trying to pack,” I reply, but it sounds like a purr.

He grins as he turns, grabs a bunch of random shit, and tosses it in the bag. “There, now let’s play.”

“There isn’t even any underwear in there.” I smirk.

“You don’t need any, trust me. When you’re not on stage, we’ll be buried in your cunt, mouth, or ass . . . I haven’t decided which, maybe all at the same time. Underwear will just get in the way.”

“I have corrupted you.” I push his chest, and he falls back onto the bed, grinning. “Seriously, help me pack. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

He softens as he sits up. “You won’t. Okay, let’s start with the basics. We can wash clothes, so you don’t need all these. Your tour outfits will be with the team, so you need pajamas to travel and something in case we go out. That’s about it, babe.”

Nodding, we start to fold clothes with him helping me discard what I don’t need. I don’t want to overpack since we will be on the bus and traveling a lot, but I carefully pack my sister’s tapes.

“Shit, I ran out of face cream. One second.” I leave Kolton and head to Chase’s room to ask him to get me some.

He’s lying on his bed, his bag packed and eyes closed.

“Babe, can you run and get some face cream for me? I have that green one with?—”

He opens his eyes, grinning. “I know, wait there.” He hops up and heads into his bathroom. I hear him rooting around, and then he comes out with a bag. I peek inside, seeing my face cream as well as some face masks and other boxes.

“Here, I have some.” He hands me an unopened tub of my favorite cream. “I got some when you moved in after trying ours. Plus, I figured if you ever ran out, you could just borrow mine.”

“What?” I peer at him.

“You seemed bad at remembering to order the stuff you needed, so I did it for you.” He shrugs. “Besides, I like smelling like you.” He smacks my ass. “Now go pack.”

Wanting to cry for some unknown reason, I head back to Kolton to see him refolding everything I folded with a guilty grin.

“You are terrible at packing. Don’t worry, baby. Why don’t you pack your toiletries while I sort your clothes and stuff?” He kisses me as I head past him with a grumble.

He’s too fucking cute.

When we’re done, we slump onto my bed, both exhausted, just as my phone rings. Groaning, I grab it and open the news article in my emails that the label sent us. Kolton’s hands play with my hair idly as I read.

A bad feeling builds in my stomach.

Everything You Need to Know About the Dead Ringers Tour.

Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s a good article. It praises the band and builds excitement for the tour, even revealing some of the secret set list, but my name isn’t mentioned once. Not one single time. The guys are cited multiple times, so either it was done on accident or someone made them.

Which means Ben is right, we are getting close.

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