Page 9 of Give Me What I Want

In response Bea turned to her side and raised her arm, showing off the low cut of the sleeve, exposing the long trail of bright peonies that ran the length of her side, and her blatant lack of bra.

I held back my chuckle and was glad that I had when Ro erupted. “You cannot go out like that, Beatrix. Either put on one of your own shirts, or one of mine. Fucking hell, woman. Are youtryingto expose us for the fake ass couple we really are?”

“It’s just a bit of fabric, Ro-bear.” Bea pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head and stared at him blankly.

“And out there…” He pointed at the door. “A ‘bit of fabric’ speaks fucking volumes. We got into this goddamn mess over a misinterpreted picture, imagine what they’ll say when they snap you in that. I can see it now…” He spread his hands in front of his face as though announcing a big headline. “Band whore, Beatrix Bolton, fucks her bassist and guitarist.”

Bea snorted, then stepped towards him. The rest of us collectively moved back a little, giving them space and glancing at each other as we waited and prayed that this would be as far as their second spat of the day would go.

“That’s a little dramatic, isn’t it? Also, don’t slut shame, Ro. If all parties are consenting, informed, and of legal age, who cares who fucks who. Not that I’m actually fuckinganyone.” She took another step closer to him, then rolled her tongue before whispering. “Not even you.”

“You say that like I’dwantto fuck you,” Ro sneered, folding his arms and flexing his muscles. I couldn’t work out of he was trying to intimidate her or show her what she was missing.

Bea glared at him, then she growled. The noise was half frustration, half I wasn’t even sure what. She ripped her sunglasses from her head, pushed them onto her face, then spun around to leave.

Ro’s fingers snared the back of the baggy shirt she was wearing though, and she was yanked back, slamming into his chest and shrieking.

“Take it off,” he commanded, tugging at the fabric.

“No.”

“Now, Beatrix.”

She kicked her leg back, slamming her foot into his knee and making him buckle for a second. A second was long enough for her to escape his hold though, and she dove at the door, grabbing the handle and launching herself down the stairs before he could catch her again.

“Get back here!” he yelled, but she wasn’t listening.

Ro was red in the face and practically spitting. Mav looked entirely defeated, and Jord looked frustrated.

“Shall we—”

Ro was barging past me before I could finish, his focus set on our bandmate as her run turned into a bouncy skip, then slowed into a deliberate strut, her ass wiggling from side to side as she flipped her hair and made her way towards the takeaway window of a coffee shop, flipping him off without so much as a backwards glance.

“That’s going to end in tears, isn’t it?” I asked no one in particular.

“I reckon so. Which is a shame, I’m starving, but I’m not going out there while they are in that mood,” Mav said, slumping back into his chair and picking his book up.

“I could go and work my magic again,” I suggested, but he shook his head.

“It’s best if we just stay in here.”

“I’ll go grab us some food when they get back,” Jord decided, pulling the bus door closed.

“Or… we could go and get it now and just ignore them,” I countered, my stomach rumbling. We had food in the cupboards, but nothing we could make much with. We’d need to get someone to re-stock when we arrived at the venue later on.

“Youcan’t just ignore anything though, Cole,” Mav said, not looking up from his book. I was sure he wasn’t even reading it and that it was just for show, a prop to stop anyone from asking him if he was alright.

“I can try.” I pouted.

“Do or do not, there is no try,” Mav muttered, echoing the words we all knew Bea would’ve whispered had she been in here and not out there.

“I don’t even know what that means,” I huffed, giving in and sitting my ass down on the sofa.

“None of us do,” Jord said, joining me. “But she loves that Star Trek shit.”

“Wars,” Mav corrected, glancing up at Jord for a second to give him a ‘how many times do I have to tell you that’ look.

“Whatever.” Jord got comfy and put the TV on while I twisted, resting my chin on the back of the sofa and watching our bandmates through the heavily tinted window as they argued outside the coffee shop.

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