Page 6 of Give Me What I Want

“Fuck!” Ronan yelped, yanking his arm away from me. “What the fuck, Beatrix. What the hell was that for?”

“For being a cocky, opportunistic prick,Ronan.”

“So, you bit me for being myself?” he asked, quirking a brow as he rubbed his arm then continued to drive, heading to the hotel we were staying in for the night, one of the perks of having stupid amounts of money and a couple of nights in one place, tonight we didn’t have to stay on the bus.

I contemplated his question, then sighed. “Pretty much. Remember when you said it was hard to like me, well it’s hard to like you too sometimes.”

“I’m aware. But this is our family, isn’t it? It’s how we work. We fight, we make up. Mav either joins in or plays the disappointed dad role, Cole keeps the peace and cracks the worst jokes, and poor Uncle Jordan sits in the corner, swaying with his bottle of Jack as he tries not to panic every time we lash out because he’s worried that we won’t come back from it.”

“We always will though,” I promised.

“I know, you can’t stay mad at this face,” he said, turning and pouting at me.

“Eugh, maybe I can,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Sorry for biting you.”

“Thanks.” Ronan drew his attention back to the road.

“This is when you say sorry for—”

“For nothing. I have nothing to be sorry about.” He rested an elbow on the window and relaxed in his seat.

And I exploded, again.

“What the hell did you and Ronan do last night?” Mav came storming into the master bedroom of our suite, flinging the doors open and launching his phone at my head.

“Ouch, what the hell, dude.” I rubbed my head and squinted at him. He was fresh from the hotel gym, golden skin covered in sweat, blonde waves sticking to his forehead, and a surprisingly bright pair of basketball shorts that were definitely not his. Mav liked to keep things simple, colour palettes included. Fluorescent green was not his style at all. “Where did you get those?” I pointed at the shorts and then rubbed my eyes, cursing under my breath as I felt the solid clumps of mascara beneath my fists.

After mylittleargument with Ro in the car last night, I had come in and locked myself in the bedroom, it was only when Cole had come knocking at 2 am, complaining that he didn’t like it when I went to bed angry, that I opened the doors and let him in. Apparently, I had fallen asleep soon after that and had forgotten to take off my make-up. I probably looked like a racoon right now, a really fucking feral one that lived in a bin with how my hair usually looked in the mornings.

“Hotel shop. Left mine on the bus,” he automatically explained, then pointed at his phone sitting beside me. “Explain yourself, Bea.”

I sighed, grabbing his phone and snuggling back into the plump pillows as I typed in his passcode and closed one eye to block out the brightness of his screen as I read over the headline on the open browser tab.

“What. The. Fuck.” I blinked repeatedly at the phone, then scrolled up and down, barely taking in the paragraphs of utter shit as my gaze latched onto the occasional word. ‘Lovers’, ‘Secret relationship’, ‘Exposed’, ‘Inevitable’.

“Explain,” Mav repeated, planting balled-up fists on his hips.

“I…” I had no idea what to say.

Jordan came barging in next, a furious scowl lining his face. “One apology meal and suddenly you two are dating?” he questioned.

“No.” I snapped, eyes darting between my two bandmates. “They’ve got it all wrong, they—”

“There’s a picture, and you look really fucking cosy in it,” Jordan said, shaking his head and glaring at me like he didn’t believe a word I’d say no matter which words left my mouth next.

I scrolled Mav’s phone again, finding the picture Jordan was referring to, and shrieking. “Fucking prick.”

“Yes, darling,” Ronan said, entering the doorway between Mav and Jordan, looking like an even sweatier mess than Mav. “You called.”

I didn’t laugh. Instead, I lunged forward and threw Mav’s phone at Ronan’s head with a screech of outrage. Missing him entirely and causing Mav to growl his annoyance my way. But I was too focused on Ronan to even attempt an apology. “You’re a fucking idiot, Ronan. You bought yourself,us, the wrong goddamn publicity.”

“How so?” he asked calmly, raising a brow.

“The pictures they took of us leaving the restaurant, you know, when you decided to play the hero, well you played it all fucking wrong. They think we’redating.” I spat the last word at him, throwing back the covers and storming across the room just as Cole came into view behind Ronan.

“Woah.” He quickly stepped between us. “What is going on? Please don’t fight again, I don’t like it.”

I met Cole’s gaze, his big brown eyes pleading with me as he placed a hand on my arm, rubbing his thumb up and down my exposed skin. “Please,” he mouthed.

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