Page 42 of Give Me What I Want

I got to three when Ronan spoke, loud and clear, his eyes never leaving mine. “That sounds great.”

The girl squealed. “And you’re sure your girlfriend doesn’t mind? That’s so cool of her.”

“Oh. I mind,” I snarled from behind her. Ronan’s words having brought me to my feet and across the room. “Now get the fuck off of my boyfriend’s lap.”

“No. Stay,” Ronan said, placing a hand on her thigh and continuing to smirk up at me.

Cole was at my side a moment later, placing his hand on the small of my back and rubbing his thumb up and down. It was soothing, but it wasn’t enough. I was going to fucking kill Ronan for this.

“Get. Off. Now.” I couldn’t contain my anger, I was throwing it at this girl, and although I knew this was all Ronan’s doing, I didn’t feel bad about it.

“What’s going on?” I heard Elijah ask as they came back to us, their set over.

“I’m going to murder myboyfriend,” I growled.

Ronan laughed mockingly. “So suddenly you care about—”

“Not here.” Elijah barked, glancing at the girl on Ro’s lap and giving him a meaningful look.

Luckily, Ro wasn’t acompleteidiot. He quietly dismissed the girl, telling her to go out front and he’d find her later. I was seeing red, and it only intensified as he swatted her ass as she left.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” I shouted once the door had closed behind her.

Ronan was still smirking. “It’s all fake, Bumb—”

“Dude,” Cole hissed and Ronan bit back a laugh.

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes then got to his feet, standing so close to me that I could taste him. Peppermint. “You said it yourself, It’s fake. I’m not your boyfriend.”

“In that girl’s eyes, you are. As far as she knows we’re together.” I clenched my jaw and lifted my chin. There was more going on than he knew, more to my anger than just some stranger finding out the truth about my ‘relationship’, but like fuck was I going to admit that to him.

“I told her that we have an agreement. I let you fuck other guys. You let me fuck other girls. It’s technically not a lie.” His smirk dropped, his lips pressing into a firm line. “Unless you have a problem with that.”

“I…” I stuttered, my gaze dropping along with my chin. I wrinkled my nose, blew out a long breath, and focused on the hem of my checked skater skirt. “I…”

“You’re on, get your asses ready.” Mark interrupted. It was perfect timing, and I swear to god I could’ve turned around to him and hugged him.

Instead of jumping on my tour manager, I walked away from the band, seeking out Kelly to get myself wired up and ready to get on stage.

“Be honest with yourself, Beatrix. Then come back and be honest with me.” Ronan called after me.

In response, I shoved my middle finger in the air above my head and swayed my hips as I strutted away. I was fucking livid, so done with tonight, but we had a show to put on, and I wouldn’t let a stupid note or Ronan destroy that with his childish behaviour.

On stage, I forgot about everything and lost myself to the music. It was the happiest place on earth in my opinion. Nothing could hurt me. Feelings poured into each song, and I found a release as I looked out at the crowd. Thousands of happy faces stared back at me, mesmerised by the show I was putting on.

The guys acted like they usually did. Ro kept his distance—pre-fake relationship, that was pretty normal. Cole teased me. And when we were done, I felt a fraction better than I had before we had stepped onto the stage.

But thensheappeared. Her head poked through a door as one of the security guys approached us to ask if she was allowed back here again. He was asking me; no doubt having heard that the girl was hitting on my guy. I shook my head, seeing red once again as Ronan laughed from behind me. His body was too close to mine, breath feathering the top of my head.

“I’ll tell her to leave,” the security guy said.

“Thank you.”

Ronan didn’t argue, and it suddenly dawned on me that he might have just been trying to wind me up. That he was just being plain fucking spiteful. He had no interest in actually going anywhere with that girl. It was just to upset me.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I asked, not even bothering to turn to face him.

His arm snaked around my waist, and he pulled my back flush to his damp, firm chest. “You. You’re my problem. You drive me insane, woman.”

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