Page 16 of Accidental Baby For My Brother’s Best Friend

“I’m coming too,” I announce, and everyone turns to look at me, surprised. “No strip clubs.”

“Party pooper,” Gemma whines, and Axel gives me a hard look that I return in kind. He’s the first to look away, and it gives me an odd sense of satisfaction.

Usually, Axel would be the first to stand up and announce that we should leave now, get there early, before cover starts, but he remains quieter than usual, sipping his drink instead of chugging it, talking and laughing with Gemma.

I’m not great at inserting myself in conversations that don’t involve me, but I do my best in this instance, asking Gemma about tour cities and doing my level best to ignore Axel.

Gemma looks at me curiously but she answers my questions easily, chatting with me and Axel in kind without giving either of us too much attention. Gemma’s marketing brain stays on even in her social life, it seems, and I find it a little impressive.

I find it difficult to be “on” all the time in that way, but Gemma seems to have perfected it, and I wonder what’s under that façade—maybe for the first time since I’ve known her.

It’d be nice to continue talking to her about the tour and other things, since this is the first real conversation I’ve had with her that is actually civil and not either teasing or argumentative, but Axel, as I already suspected, has other plans.

“They’ll start charging cover, soon,” he complains, and Gemma rolls her eyes.

“Tell me you’re broke without telling me you’re broke.”

Axel puts on a wounded expression, clutching at his chest dramatically.

“Talked yourself right out of me paying for your cover, sweetheart,” he teases her, and Gemma shrugs.

“That’s okay—unlike you, Ihavemoney.”

Samuel snorts out part of his draft beer and has to ask the bartender for a pile of napkins to wipe off his shirt, and while I’m in the midst of helping him, Axel somehow leads Gemma toward the parking lot.

I dab at Samuel’s shirt, frowning as I watch them leave, and Samuel slowly takes the napkins from me, watching my face.

“What’s going on with you, Locke?”

I shake my head, but I’m still frowning. Gemma has the keys to the tour bus, so it isn’t as if we really have a choice what to do next. I grab Samuel and haul him up from the bar, throwing cash at the bartender, who just grumbles at me. I expect that he sees a lot worse than this quartet, but it’s probably frustrating, all the same.

I always try to treat bar staff well because they do a lot to market our band, even on their own social media in some cases. The bartender who I’d hooked up with back in Tucson, for example, had been one of our biggest fans, posting our concert dates a week in advance on her Instagram, where she had a fair amount of followers due to her social attitude and good looks.

Tonight, however, we aren’t performing and it isn’t arealbar, just a hotel, so throwing a fair amount of cash and dragging my younger friend out of the place in order to catch up to Axel and Gemma isn’t something I’m going to lose any sleep over.

Samuel breaks free as we get to the parking lot, and I’ve lost sight of Gemma and Axel. I’m willing to leave him behind, but he calls my name and I stop, sighing.

“Listen, you can’t tell Jackson if anything happens with Axel and Gemma,” Samuel says quietly, as if not wanting anyone to hear or as if Jackson might be lurking around the corner.

I look at him for a long moment, wondering if there is a vein bulging out of my forehead with how fast the blood rushes to my face at the suggestion of something happening between Axel and Gemma, or the suggestion that Samuel might somehow beokaywith that.

“Sam, what are you talking about?” I ask, and there must be some warning in my tone because Samuel looks away, down at his hands, before looking back at me.

“Gemma deserves a life, Locke. She deserves to make her own decisions.”

“What do you know about what Gemma deserves?” I can feel my shoulders straightening but Samuel doesn’t back down.

“A lot more than you and Jackson do,” Samuel says, firmly but, as usual, quietly, and I swear I think my eye might be twitching.

It’s like the whole world has turned upside down or something.

“All of us protect Gemma,” I insist, as if this should be obvious. “That’s part of what this band—what thisfamily—is about.”

“Is it?” Samuel asks, not breaking eye contact like he usually would. “Is that what you’re doing, Locke? Protecting Gemma? Or do you just want her for yourself?”

My throat works as I try to think of something to say back to that, but instead, I just turn on my heel and stalk toward the tour bus, and I clamber on board while Samuel runs along after me.

Axel and Gemma are sitting across from each other on the tour bus, Axel’s hands hovering over Gemma’s bare thighs, and he doesn’t even have the decency to move when I board the bus. Luckily for him, Gemma does, clearing her throat and moving to the driver’s seat.

“Everybody ready?” She looks around at us while she starts the bus. Samuel smiles and Axel whoops.

I just look at her until she turns away because I don’t feel ready at all. For any of this.

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