Page 8 of Accidental Baby For My Brother’s Best Friend

“Sorry I asked,” she shoots back, and I curse myself.

Too late.

She turns on her heel (or well, her Keds, since she’s not wearing her heels, at least not yet) and instinctively, I grab her arm.

She whirls around, glaring at me, and I let her go, clearing my throat.

“I just wanted to say…wanted to…” I stumble over my words, not sure what I’m going to say exactly or why I stopped her from walking into the hotel.

Everyone else has already gone inside, leaving the equipment in the bus since we’re heading right over after everyone showers and gets ready for the show, so Gemma and I are standing in the parking lot with the sun beating down on us. Albuquerque seems a lot hotter than Tucson suddenly, and I realize that I’m sweating.

“Sorry,” I finally say, my words clearer than before since my head feels clearer, more awake. “I’m just tired.”

“Tired is rocker code for hungover,” Gemma says flatly, but she favors me with a smile that I return instantly, feeling relief wash over me.

For a second, I think she’s going to take my hand and lead me inside, but Jackson comes to the door of the hotel.

“Gem, the reservations are in your name and they don’t believe I’m your brother!”

Jackson’s yell seems to reverberate across the parking lot and Gemma turns slightly red before she bolts toward the door, jogging slightly.

I stand there for another moment, trying to get my head clear. I guess I must be a lot more hungover than I thought because I blatantly stare at her ass, the way it jiggles in her yoga shorts.

Jackson doesn’t notice, and I get to keep my eyeballs in my head.

No more tequila, I tell myself, and that’s a promise I swear I’ll keep - at least until we get to Vegas.

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