Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3) (7 page)

“I’m fine, Roger,” I say to him again, trying to keep his thoughts from going wherever the hell they were.

“I know. Just thought I felt something there for a minute. You know?”

He looks back up at me, chuckling low.

“Fuck it. It must be the pot or something. Jeff!” Roger kicks the table on Jeff’s side, raising the bag of weed up in front of his face. “What kind of pot was this? Fuck, getting me all sensitive and shit. Now I know what it’s like to be Jared.”

Giving him a tender but weak smile back, I say good night to him and the others again. They sing back to me in unison, “Good night, Sophia.”

My smile turns genuine as I take in my surroundings. All of my boys chilling as we make our way through the country, doing what we fucking love to do. It will never be like this again.
Fuck!
My eyes are already watering again. Fucking hormones.

Waving my hand over my shoulder, I head back to my room. After sliding the door shut, it’s pretty dark back here with the only lights coming from the passing vehicles on the highway, causing shadows of light to flicker over my walls. Grabbing my brush off the makeshift desk, I lean back against some pillows and begin brushing out my hair, unwinding from everything that went on today. My phone buzzes to the right of me and the blue screen of my phone temporally blinds me in the darkness of my room. With my other hand, I reach for my phone, squinting at the brightness of the light. A text from Tristan lights up my screen.

I want to be inside you

Holy shit.
My core tightens and my thighs clench reading his words. Bringing my brush down slowly through my hair, I lean over to the side table and place it on top. Scooting down the bed, I throw my comforter over me as I get comfortable. Pressing my lips together, I study his text for a moment. Blowing out a shallow breath, I begin to type a text back. With shaky fingers, I press send.

I’d give any part of me for you

Yeah, it’s not really dirty or anything, but it’s what I’m feeling. I would give anything right now to feel his strong arms wrapped around me as he sinks into me. I can’t get enough of him. Everything about Tristan has me fucking crazy.

I glide my free hand down my stomach, then up my thigh, teasing myself right now. I always love the tease, that warm, aching feeling that drives you completely, utterly insane with lust. One part just wanting it now, the other loving the long, slow burn of desire. As the tips of my fingers graze my clit, my phone lights up beside me again.

Never again

Huh?
What does that mean?

Pulling my hand out of my shorts, the elastic band snaps at my skin. Staring at the simple text. I was just getting ready to text back, asking what he meant, but he’s already sent another one.

Never again, Sophia, will I spend another goddamn night away from you.

My breath catches in my throat as my heart swells. I fucking love it that Tristan finally feels the same way for me as I do for him. But I guess he always has, hasn’t he? I mean, yeah, we kind of butted heads a couple years ago and went through some brutal shit together, but that just makes me trust him now even more. Some may call his behavior out of line or even stalkerish, but I fucking love it that he cherishes me. Like, really cherishes me. I can feel it. Biting my bottom lip, I text back.

Never again. 

At least, I hope…

Chapter Seven

Sophia

We’re playing at another festival tonight in Houston. Bigger than the kinds of festivals we used to play when we were starting out, but not quite the magnitude of where we’ll be playing at this summer over in Europe. I love festivals, though. There’s this electricity that charges through every cell of your body when the music starts and everyone around is part of you. Kind of trippy, but totally epic.

Today, my makeup and hair are getting done on the bus. It’s a little muggy outside for Frankie and he wanted air conditioning. I just kicked out my boys so Frankie and I would have the open living space to get ready in. They had no problem with that though. It being a festival and them being keen on drinking, they were all for it.

My stomach is a tad queasy this morning, or should I say, afternoon, since we all slept in ’til the bus was actually parking on the festival grounds, out in the back, of course, where security is prime.

Jared was freaking out this morning when he heard about a few other bands playing today who he wanted to see. So I’m sure he set off to find them. I don’t know why, though. Once he comes face to face with any of them he’s going to be quiet. I mean, he still sometimes gets that way around Undead and this is our second time touring with them.

Today is the first time in a while that I actually feel hung over. And that sure as shit didn’t happen last night.
Fuck.
I hope this isn’t the start of the beginning stages of being sick all the damn time. I don’t know how far along I am, but if I were to guess, I would say it has to be a decent amount of time since the fucking stick showed the positive results before the three minutes were even up. First my breasts, and now this…

Peeking into the fridge, I pull out another water and decide to slip a couple pieces of bread in the toaster. I really don’t want anything at all, but I figure I have to have something in my stomach. Shit. Even the smell of the toast is making my stomach churn. As I’m lightly buttering it, Frankie swings open the bus door, a bag hanging around his neck as his other hand is holding the strap to one of his larger duffel bags. 

“Hey there, princess.”

He blows a kiss at me as he whips his neck to the side, causing his long, flat ironed bangs to flip to the side of his face. Frankie already looks great in tight, light wash jeans with a simple gray, V-neck t-shirt. His nails are painted black, of course, and he is sporting a pretty fucking sweet watch, a stainless steel Tag Heuer with a black dial. It sparkles when the sunlight pouring in reflects off of it.

Frankie traipses over to me as his black leather flip flops smack against the linoleum.

“So, how’s it going girl?” he asks me as he starts laying out the makeup on the table.

When he finally looks up at me, his face drops as he covers his mouth with his hand. His voice is muffled from his fingers.

“Damn, girl. You look like shit.”

Nice, Frankie. Nice.

“Thanks, Frankie.”

“Sorry, girl.” He twists his wrist in the air. “It’s just, well…you look like shit, basically.”

My mouth drops open, glaring back at Mr. Heart, who closes his mouth and shrugs, giving me this cute, shit smirk.

Rolling my eyes at him, I pick up the remote for the surround sound off the counter, turning on some music so Frankie doesn’t have to feel like he has to keep talking to fill the void. Nothing More’s
Jenny
fills the silence. He pats the seat on the bench.

“Ready?”

Taking a seat, I place my toast on the table, using the back of my hand to push some of his brushes off to the side.

“Did you start taking vitamins yet?” he asks me as he begins applying the makeup primer on my skin, dabbing it softly on with a sponge. Shaking my head no at him, I remain quiet. He pauses for a moment and steps back, giving me this disapproving look as he does his signature duck lips. Resting his wrist on his hip, he starts tapping his foot.

“What, Frankie?” I mumble before forcing another bite from my toast.

“Girl, you need to take that shit. The baby needs it,” he scolds me softly, probably trying not to piss me off too much since we’ve already had a wonderful start to the day.

“I know,” I say, barely getting the words out of my mouth since it is full of this dry, disgusting toast.

“Okay, then.”

Frankie drops it, pepping back up, continuing with my face again. Even though there’s music on, he stills hums a completely different song to himself. His face is right in front of mine and I take in the light, clean scent of his cologne. His eyes move around, carefully concentrating on whatever part of my face he’s applying the primer to.

“Make sure you do your Kegels,” Frankie says quietly, not even batting an eyelash.

“Excuse me?”

I lean away from him as his hand hangs suspended over where my cheek was a moment ago. Stepping back, Frankie motions with his hands over his groin.

“Well, you know.” He shrugs.

My mouth is closed tight as I wait for him to finish where he is going with this. Rolling his eyes at me as if I’m the one who should be getting it, he tucks a piece of his blond hair behind his ear.

“Tighten your jay jay up.”

Huh?

“Where in the fuck did that come from, Frankie?”

I shouldn’t be at a loss for words right now since it is coming from Frankie after all, but shit.

“My mama said that after she had moi,” he rests his hand over his heart, batting his eyelashes. “Every time she would laugh or sneeze… she would pee herself.”

“Gross!”

Frankie’s just standing there, towering over me as he grins widely down at me. I pinch my eyebrows together, thinking,
what the fuck did he just say
? Squatting down, he rests his hands on my knees, giving them a quick squeeze.

“Welcome to mommyhood, girl.”

He winks at me before going back to applying whatever else he has going on my skin, humming all the while.

By the time my hair and makeup are done, I have to use the bathroom. I leave Frankie laying out different pieces for today across the sofa, pulling each one up first and studying it as he pushes his index finger to the side of his cheek.

I finish relieving myself, which by the way, felt amazing. I thought the peeing all the time thing was right when you were about to have the baby, but just in this last week, I’ve been finding myself going more. What really sucks is when I kind of feel the urge on stage. There’s no way in hell I’m pulling a Fergie. Uh-uh. Nope. I would run off the stage first before letting that shit happen. Some say it was her sweat, but I don’t know. I only know I’m not doing it.

Squirting some soap in my hands, I start rubbing them together as I lean over the sink. My eyes flash up to the mirror. I don’t know why I’m staring, it’s not the first time I’ve seen myself all done up by Frankie, but now it just feels different. Not bad different, just different. He's given me smoky eyes with eyelash pieces along with nude lips. My already prominent cheekbones are even more so now. My hair is full of loose waves that actually smell pretty fucking good. I’m going to have to ask what he used.

That’s when I catch a smirk of my own, laughing back at me in the reflection. I feel good. Well, technically, I still feel kind of hung over, but even with all that’s going on, a sudden rush of contentment washes over me.

It’s funny how it does that. One minute I’m kind of cranky, the next I want to say 'fuck it' and chill. I like the latter way more. Giving myself a quick nod, I’m ready to get out there. Not just the bus, but the stage, life... everything. I feel pretty damn good right now.

Shutting off the water, I wipe my hands down the sides of my tank as I spin around. Stepping back out in the hall, Frankie has the remote to the surround sound in his hand, using the other to wave me closer.

“Okay, I got something.” He snaps his fingers, twisting his neck to the side, smirking at me. “I locked the door, so you’re good to go.”

He nods his head to the side. Then he flips through different stations ’til he screeches out loud, causing me to jump.

“Yes!” He bounces on his heel before looking over at me as he turns up the volume. Madonna’s
Papa Don’t Preach
. “Fucking love it.”

“That’s nice, Frankie,” I tease him back as I make my way over to the clothes.

Frankie starts bobbing his head to the music, snapping his fingers as he belts out the lyrics. After twirling around, he stops.

“Finally! I have a friend that’s going through this.” He claps excitedly. “You know? Just like her music video, you all in trouble and shit. He’s the sexy bad boy, and girl…”

“Papa don’t motherfucking preach, mmmkay.” He twists his bony wrist around as the watch dangles from it, pointing at me.

He snaps his fingers with each word in front of him, side to side. I start laughing hard from my gut at his goofiness. I shake my head at him as I pick up each piece.

“You’re awesome, Frankie,” I say, looking down.

“Duh,” Frankie says in his valley girl voice.

With my back to him, I carefully pull my tank top over my head. Again, the small friction from the material chafes against my tender nipples and I wince.

“
Shit
,” I hiss.

“What, girl?” Frankie calls out as he steps into the bathroom.

Ignoring him, I start to very fucking carefully this time, pull over the looser fitting tee I’m wearing today. I don’t care, no fucking bra will go on right now. Let anyone give me looks or say she’s slutty or whatever. If they only knew right now how tender my nipples are. They can just kiss my ass.

Turning around, I see the same, very small, cut off black jean shorts and the sheer, black tights. The ones I used in Tampa that have runs going down and tears going horizontally across my upper thighs. I like this look. Some pieces kind of fit for down here and playing outdoors, but he has some others that are more for indoor performances.

To finish up the look, I slide on my black buckled boots that go up to a few inches below my knees. Kind of sloppy looking, but it’s one of the most comfortable pieces I've had in a long time. Frankie still puts me in heels, but he’s a little more conscious now. I told him he’s being paranoid, but he said I will thank him when my feet are so swollen from wearing them that he has to cut me out of them to even get the damn things off.

I like wearing pretty shoes sometimes, but I love that I can move around easier with this style.

“Damn, girl.” Frankie whistles as he fans his face. “I fucking love it.”

Smiling back at him, I make my way back to my room so I can check myself in my full body mirror.

I’m such a girl sometimes, getting giddy as I check myself out. The t-shirt is a faded, washed olive tee that shows off a pretty decent amount of my belly. Now it’s time to embrace Frankie’s advice. Any little piece of clothing now that I wear onstage will be showing off my stomach.

I’m not worried or scared about getting bigger, but hey, I don’t know if it will be like this again without some kind of surgery or whatever. The dark, distressed shorts barely cover my ass, nothing new there. But something about the jean material and the sheer tights that hug my legs actually makes this mix matched style look badass. I run my fingers through my hair as my eyes keep scanning the length of me.

“Oh, you just love it,” Frankie says teasingly behind me.

I smile at him in our reflection.

“I do.”

A sudden knock, well, more like a pound, on the door has me startled.

“I’ll unlock it,” Frankie says as he walks out of my cove.

I go back to checking myself out again. This would be a wonderful time to light a joint up, but instead, I walk out as well to get another bottle of water.

“Holy shit, Soph. I’m going to start calling you Jared number two. Well, three, because Jeff is his second,” Roger laughs at me, clearly already having had a couple beers.

Man, I miss that too. Just a light, feeling good buzz.

“Please.” Frankie snaps his neck around, circling his index finger at him. “Looks like you need a few good hours too there, guy.”

“Some of us are just naturally this good looking, Frankie,” Roger comes back, chuckling as he walks over to his bunk.

Ignoring Frankie’s hushed insults, Roger goes on.

“Just gotta grab some of my bud. We’re on in an hour, Sophia.” He tucks the small bag in his front pocket as he pulls out his wallet, sliding his pack of zig-zags in. “Fucking Eyes Set to Kill is out there right now. Fucking sweet!”

Roger pats my back once as he walks by.

“See ya later, Soph. Bye
Frank-ie
,” he calls out behind him as he exits the bus, raising his voice a few octaves as he teases out Frankie’s name.

Frankie wiggles his fingers and waves at him before turning his hand over and flipping him off.

“Buh-bye, dirty ass wipe.”

Roger huffs once before shutting the door.

Smiling at Frankie, I grab my phone off the tabletop and slide it into my back pocket before grabbing my water again.