Page 38 of Give Me What I Want

“I don’t want him to see anyone cry. I want him to go knowing that the people he cares about are happy.” That was what Mav had told me before we had called his uncle. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I’d let him down.

I cried alone after. Feeling far too many emotions all at once. Cole had tried to come and comfort me, but I wanted to feel. So I pushed him away.

A pang of guilt over that struck me, and I snuggled against him, feeling him grin against the top of my head as he pressed a kiss to my hair, his beard tangling with my curls, not that I minded. Behind closed doors, we had started to become more affectionate. All of us.

Except for Jordan.

I was still refusing to discuss what was going on between us. Rolling with it, taking each day as it came. Surprisingly, no one seemed to have an issue with my silence on the matter, they had asked a couple of times, I had deflected, and they just went with it. I was shocked mostly by Ronan’s lack of pressure. I hadn’t expected him to be so chilled about it all. He’d usually take any opportunity to start an argument with me, but the ones he had started were never over me sleeping with him, Mav, and Cole. If anything, even though it seemed that jealousy had brought him to my bed in the first place, he had let go of it damn fast and was the one who seemed to be most up for group fun, although we’d not done anything like that since the first time.

Almost two months had passed since then, and I had kept each interaction separate. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy what we had all done.Fuck, it had been the most exciting night of my life. But there was something holding me back. Maybe it was that disapproving look that Jordan kept throwing my way. Maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, I had backed out every time that we had come close. I had picked one guy and let the other two suffer.

“Morning, lovebirds.” A blonde girl climbed onto the bus. She was painfully upbeat in the mornings, and I still wasn’t used to it. But she was my best friend’s girl, and she was a little too easy to get along with. I could see how she had managed to snatch up not only him, but half of his band too. “And Jordan.”

Cecelia Vaughn smiled at my bandmate, who scowled back at her. She was possibly the first blonde that I hadn’t seen him drool over, and she was one of the few people who knew what happened behind our closed tour bus door. I hadn’t been keen on the idea of telling her, but I had confessed everything to my best friend, and he had been honest enough to admit that he wouldn’t be able to keep my secret from her. He was awful when it came to his girl. In the best way. It was nice to see him so happy.

So I told her too. We went for a drink when we were in Copenhagen, just the two of us, and she hadn’t judged. Not that I had expected her to. The girl had read enough steamy romance novels to understand the complexities of my situation, and she was living her own little reverse-harem dream.

The biggest downside to telling her though, was how overly supportive she was, and how high in the clouds her head was. She was a dreamer with a realistic outlook on life. I should have been able to open up to her more than I had. Her advice would be helpful. But I was still struggling to trust another girl.

Sabrina hadn’t called me back after the morning that my photo had leaked. I had sent a handful of texts. I had reached out, mostly out of habit, through the good and the bad things that had happened since leaving London, even though I was sending messages to what felt like a brick wall.

Stalking her social media, I found out that she had been hanging out with a new group of girls. She was doing really well at work, and I tried not to feel too pleased about the fact she had stayed behind. It wasn’t my fault, but it was clearly for the best. I still wanted to see her win. Even if she was acting like a beyond-shitty friend.

Cece—she insisted I call her that—bent down to give Jordan a quick hug, then threw me a wink before she made her rounds, greeting us all affectionately then sweetly requesting a cuppa as she sat down on my other side.

“City of looooooove,” she said with a wiggle of her shoulders. “Who’s excited to be here?”

I shrugged, never really understanding the appeal of Paris. We had arrived a couple of hours ago, and none of us had bothered to get out and explore yet. Although, that could have been due to the late night we’d all had. But even Mav and Ro hadn’t gone out—separately—for their morning runs, or however they chose to work out. I never paid them much attention. My exercise routine mostly consisted of running my ass around a stage, bad dancing, and now, sex.

I was having more sex now than I had back in college. And it was good. Consistently good. Each of the guys had their strengths. I wondered what Jordan’s would be, if he ever decided to follow his bandmate’s lead. I wouldn’t pressure him, but I definitely felt as though something was missing.

Cece agreed, and she also said that pushing him when he wasn’t showing any interest would be a bad idea. Thankfully, I wasn’t desperate, but I was irritated. Why didn’t he want me? Was it because I wasn’t blonde? I had a little blonde in my hair, but I wouldn’t change my appearance for anyone. The way I looked was all for me. The hair, the makeup, the outfits that showed off my body, it was all to make me feel good.

I wasn’t usually insecure, but the more time that passed with him giving me disapproving looks, the more I wondered if there was something wrong with me. But then Cece would remind me that I had three guys who wanted me.Three.And then there were the fans… men and women who would declare their love for me. Being reminded of that would always manage to snap me the hell out of it.

“Oh, come on guys,” Cece began to complain, then quietly thanked Mav as he handed her a freshly brewed cuppa. “It’sPariee,” she tried so hard to pull off a French accent, but she sounded so painfully British. “Even if you’re not feeling the love, you can appreciate the beauty of this place, right?”

“I can appreciate the food,” Ronan said, “but not in the same way I did in Italy.”

“Well, that’s something I suppose.” Cece slumped a little and slurped her tea.

“I’m sure that you’ll have the best time here,” I said, trying to sound upbeat. I didn’t like how my band’s lack of interest had turned her mood. “Do you guys have any plans? We only have one night here, and obviously we’ll need the band down at the venue later for soundcheck and the show, but what are you doing with the rest of the day?”

She perked up instantly, explaining her plans to see the Eiffel Tower after the show. She had planned a boat ride this afternoon, but had actually come to our bus to invite us all for breakfast.

“We can go and have croissants. I’ve already cleared it with Garth and Hillary, we have security set up, all we need to do is pick a café.”

Ronan looked the most eager, getting to his feet and starting to boss us all around. “Let’s get ready. Cole, brush your hair. Jord, you’re good. Mav, put on some proper trousers. Queenie, you’re surprisingly good too.”

“Of course I am,” I said, giving him an outraged glare over his surprise. “Sometimes I wake up, and I radiate this whole natural beauty thing.”

Cole laughed. “Your eyelids are naturally black, are they? And your lips? The red is all you?”

“Yes.” I sat up straight, smiling at him and batting mynot-fake lashes. “And my hair always looks this good.”

“So your usual morning look is all fake, I suppose you usually look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards to make us all feel better?” Cole asked, still laughing.

“It’s unfair, isn’t it? I’d hate to rub it in every day.” My smile widened until Ro cleared his throat and soured my mood.

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