Page 32 of Accidental Baby For My Brother’s Best Friend

Locke and I are both on the third floor. Jackson, Samuel, and Axel all managed to get first floor rooms, those lucky bastards.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

I stare at him, shocked. Of all the things I’d expected him to say, this isn’t it. This is the second time Locke Kincaid has apologized to me on this tour, and I’m beginning to think he’s been body snatched or something.

“You’re sorry?”

Locke winces, taking my words the wrong way. I must have sounded indignant instead of just confused.

“I really am sorry. I should have never taken advantage-”

I scoff, I can’t help it. As much as I’m annoyed that he remembers, the idea that he might think what happened wasn’t my choice pisses me off.

“I’m not some drunk sixteen-year-old, Locke, you didn’t takeadvantageof me.”

Locke blinks. “I didn’t?”

“No, you idiot. I kissed you back, didn’t I?”

It’s admittedly blurry, but I remember the parking lot and how he’d kissed me after I’d yelled at him. It was one of those kisses I wouldn’t easily forget, even with my blood flowing with tequila.

“I guess you did,” Locke says slowly, and I roll my eyes.

“You know, you’re a lot of things, Locke, but I never thought you were an idiot.”

Locke grins, and it lights up his whole face and my heart skips a beat.

“Little do you know.”

Oh no.He’s being cute. I have to get out of here immediately.

“Anyway, no harm no foul. We were drunk and angry and sometimes shit happens, right?” I babble, shifting my tote bag up on my shoulder to indicate that I’m in a hurry.

“Right,” Locke responds, his smile fading. “And it can never happen again.”

“Of course not!” I chirp, and that’s exactly what I want, for him to agree that we can never hook up again, but it stings a little, all the same.

“Never,” Locke repeats, and I huff out a breath, slightly offended.

“Yeah, never. One time thing.”

Locke just nods and I take a step forward but he doesn’t move, making me brush past him. Tears aren’t burning at the backs of my eyes, definitely not. I don’t evenlikeLocke Kincaid.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. We both decided. It will never happen again.

The concert in Los Angeles goes off without a hitch and we’re not even halfway through the tour and I’ve sold over half our merchandise and records. It’s a wonderful night to celebrate, but I stay away from tequila because I’msmart.

Instead, I go back to my old standard, filthy martinis with Ketel One, and I stick to three instead of God knows how many shots. I still have a slight headache from lack of sleep and overindulging last night, and it just gets worse when a swarm of women surrounds Locke after the show.

Jackson has once again announced that Locke wrote and produced our most popular original song, “Keyed Up,” and there’s a wealth of skinny Los Angeles blondes all around him. It’s not that I’m jealous because he’s grinning at them and accepting drinks from them. It’s not that I’m jealous atall, but given what happened last night, it seems just a little disrespectful.

Samuel and Axel both notice the sour look on my face and Samuel looks as if he’s slowly realizing something.

“Don’t you dare!” I hiss, although it’s more of a screech over the club music.

“You fucked Locke Kincaid,” Samuel gasps, and I look around for Jackson even though I know that he couldn’t possibly have heard us over the music.

Jackson is nowhere to be found, though, he’s been ducking out after every concert, but since my brother has the tendency to go off the rails if he spends too much time in bars, I’m not too concerned. In fact, I’m more relieved, since Axel is gaping at me like I’m an alien from the planet Krypton and Samuel is laughing uproariously, Jackson would definitely know something was up if he were here.

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