Page 19 of Give Me What I Want

I didn’t regret a moment of it. But it couldn’t happen again. I wanted to tell him that, but he was already leaving, making a hasty exit and slamming the bus door.

Alone with my thoughts, I decided to pad down to the kitchen, grab myself a quick shot of rum from Mav’s secret stash of expensive drinks that he kept above the microwave, then went and climbed into bed, switching off my glowing wall decorations before getting comfy. The scent of what we had done lingered on the sheets, and I found the hint of mint mixed with the sweet jasmine of our bodies strangely comforting.

Sleep stole my thoughts away before I could spiral, and I was thankful for that. I only woke once, to the warmth of another body climbing into the bed behind me, thick arms wrapping around me and holding me close. Peppermint filled my nostrils, and his voice whispered in the dark. “Sweet dreams, Your Majesty.”

I decided that I must have been dreaming. Ronan never snuck into bed with me. But still, I wriggled happily and whispered the sentiment back as I drifted into a deep sleep.

7

My thoughts were racing. All through the night my emotions had been rapidly switching lanes between concern for my uncle and anger towards my bandmates. Not all of my bandmates though, only Beatrix and Ronan.

The concern was a feeling that I was currently far too used to. The anger I was not.

Beatrix and Ronan managed to infuriate me on their worst days, but this, what they had soblatantlydone last night, was on a whole separate level. A level I had never found myself sitting on when it came to any of the people who had become my new family.

When they had taken too long to come back after the show last night, I had wondered if they had ended up doing something unthinkable, if their fighting had ended with bloodshed or sex. Then Ronan had returned to us alone way past 1 am, with a skip in his step, and a glow radiating from him. He was happy.

Actually, no. He was smug, and that only made me more suspicious.

I had waited for Beatrix to come back, hoping that I was just overthinking, but she never returned. Ronan had assured us that she was just sleeping, he hadn’t hurt her. I trusted that he was telling the truth about that. So, we continued to enjoy the hospitality of the venue as they allowed us to stay hours past closing, hanging out with the other bands, drinking and playing music until the sky outside began to turn a slightly lighter shade, Jordan was too drunk to walk, and we had needed to carry him to the comfort of our cosy, dark bus.

I sat up alone for a while after I had shoved the empty washing-up bowl in Jordan’s bunk and said goodnight to an already passed-out Cole, then when I had grown tired of worrying about my uncle, I had gone to the bedroom door. I was going to her in search of comfort, something I was doing even more frequently than usual, but when I quietly opened that door, I had foundhimin there. Holding her. So peaceful. The light from the hall shone on their smiling, sleeping faces, and bile had risen into my throat.

Ronanneverslept with her.

My suspicions had been confirmed, loud and fucking clear, the unthinkable truly had happened.

Sleep had evaded me all through the night, and I had been almost tempted to try to climb into Cole’s bunk with him, even if the squeeze would’ve been uncomfortable and unrealistic, thinking that maybe he’d be able to offer me some comfort. All I really needed was the warm body of someone who I knew cared about me. Cole cared. Cole would’ve made room for me, probably ending up on top of me, and would’ve snuggled me until I had drifted into a nightmare-ridden sleep. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. It was well known, even to our fans, that I was bisexual. And everyone also knew that Cole and I had a strange friendship, even stranger than the rest of us, due to our history. The last thing I wanted was for Jord, Ronan or Beatrix to find us cuddling and question my intentions.

Because bandmates shouldn’t fuck.

Buttheyhad.

They had crossed a line and had made their fake situation real. I needed to know what it meant, for them, for us, for the future. The balance had been tipped, and I was fucking livid. How could they be so careless? So fucking stupid.

Up on the stage last night they had shared that moment, that insane kiss. Was that what had catapulted them into bed together? Why had he made that move though? Was it because of me? Had I caused this with that intense moment during my solo? I still wasn’t sure why I had done it. Something had taken over in me as we cycled through our set. I had been feeling more like myself last night, the literal high of Amsterdam helping to banish the fear that lingered in my mind constantly. For the first time in months I wasn’t itching to get off stage and check my phone, worrying that I’d find that dreaded message lighting up my screen. Uncle Steve. He could go at any time. And here I was, on fucking tour. I should be with him. Not here. Not dropping to my knees before Beatrix and staring up at her like I wanted her.

I didn’t.

Did I?

No. Surely it had just been the atmosphere. The moment. The song. “Cupid’s Bullet” was Ro’s greatest hit. The first song he had ever written for us, and the very reason that I had decided to take this band seriously. The song was hot. The type of music you could get down and dirty to. I had simply been reacting to the music. And the crowd. Their cheers had spurred me on, kept me at Bea’s feet. It was their fault.

Oh, who was I kidding, it was all me. Maybe subconsciously I knew that what I was doing was going to piss him off. Or maybe I just wanted her attention, undivided, for just a minute. Most likely, deep down, I had just been dying to wind Ronan up. He was pissing me off daily, and last night I had got my own back.

It was all my fault.

Tucking my book down the side of the sofa, I sighed. I had beenreadingthat book for two weeks now, and no one had noticed that I hadn’t got past page 48. Or maybe they had, and they just weren’t saying anything. Instead, letting me pretend that I was fine. I was an awful actor though.

Thank god it wasn’t me who was supposed to be fake-dating Beatrix. I’d have slipped up a hundred times by now. Luckily, as the depressed bandmate, I was able to get away with keeping quiet and not pretending anything. The paparazzi and reporters left me alone, not even bothering to try to get any inside gossip out of me like they did with Jord and Cole. It was nice, I supposed, to get a break from it all.

It was early. But no earlier than I usually got up. The sky outside was highlighted with a spatter of dusky, pale pink as the sun rose higher. I loved this time of day, and for a moment I forgot all about my concerns and my anger as I watched the colours change throughout the sky, shadows dancing in the parking lot outside.

The bus was quiet, bar the soft groan of Jordan’s snores. I was glad that I never slept below him, that was Ronan’s bunk. I was a light sleeper. I had even switched bunks with Cole after he had kept me up one night with his tossing and turning above me. So now I slept above him, or in with Beatrix.

I had needed her last night. I had needed some kind of normality. I had spent one insane second debating climbing in with thehappy couple, but I knew that it wouldn’t have ended well. Either a fight would have broken out, or I’d have just laid there growing more and more irritated. Neither would have helped me to sleep.

Then again, sitting out here hadn’t dragged me under either.

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