Chapter 13
WINTER SOLDIER
I sling my suitcase on the queen-sized bed before dropping my backpack to the floor.
Fuck, I’m trying so hard not to be pissed off.
Yet again, Michael is taking Lex’s side. I even told him about the flight on the drive over here—how I’d tried to get Lex to see that I’m not an asshole all the time, but he still ended up being a dick. Not to mention reiterating it again in the lobby.
And now I have to stay in this fucking hotel with him for a week.
It’s like Michael forgot all about Kelly and her buddy, who lives here.
Lex could go stay with them. I genuinely thought we were turning over a new leaf back on that plane.
We had a real moment. Something that felt right.
Maybe Michael can’t see how disheartening it was for me, either.
I offered up a piece of myself only for it to be spit on.
Having Lex share a room with us isn’t a big deal. Logically, I know that. I just don’t want endless arguments this trip. I want more time with Michael and less drama with our manager.
I was looking forward to some time with my best friend.
I miss him so damn much.
Between the band shit and his sex life, I barely see the guy anymore. I’m lucky he even texts me. That’s why I’m so eager to go on tour. The closest we ever are is when we are forced together.
On stage? Our chemistry is magnetic.
I got his back, and he has my front. In sync.
As much as I’m struggling with my complicated feelings towards Lex, now isn’t the time to sort through them. We have too much going on. Watching the guy sleep, learning his morning routines, seeing him in pajamas, possibly his underwear—yeah, I can’t do it.
I’ll fuckin’ snap.
“I’ll go see if I can bunk up with the others,” I announce to the room as the two of them set their things down. “I’m sure they can bring the fold-out to the other room.”
“Hotel policy is no more than four guests per room,” Lex says quietly.
“How would they know unless you tell them?”
“Dev, cut it out,” Michael warns, setting his suitcase against the wall. “I’m not in the mood for it.”
He’s acting like I’m being unreasonable. I’m not even yelling!
“I’m just saying. I think it’d be better if I went to a different room.”
“I can go to another hotel, it’s not a big deal,” Lex says. He looks somehow smaller than he already is. “I’ll just leave earlier to make sure I’m on set at the same time.”
“No,” Michael commands. “This is fucking ridiculous. The two of you need to get over it. Whatever bullshit is going on ends. Now.”
God, I want to tell him exactly who he’s defending.
But he doesn’t know what went down. Sure, Michael was at the Anti-Ponk show, but he wasn’t in that damn van.
Didn’t see the way Lex seduced me, lied, and wormed his way into my chest with those big amber eyes and sweet fucking lips.
Michael only saw the aftermath when I got black out drunk and was beating the shit out of an amp.
We weren’t close like we are now.
I didn’t want him to think I was some creep hitting on teenagers.
I still don’t want him thinking that. And with everything that’s gone on with Morgan, I’m sure it’ll trigger him again. He doesn’t tell me, but I can see how deeply it affects him that his twin brother is a god-damned pedophile rapist.
“Fine,” I concede with a huff. “I’ll just keep to myself.”
Michael clenches his jaw but doesn’t argue. Lex locks himself in the bathroom.
This week is going to fucking suck.
At some point, the room service brought us the fold-out bed.
It’s small, but it serves its purpose. Michael has it set up beside the bed Lex chose, and I can’t help but feel some type of way about that.
Like he’d rather be closer to Lex—someone he hasn’t kissed—than me.
Both of these men have been mine for a moment, and like Thanos snapped his fingers, both of them disappeared. I’m sulking, and I can’t help it.
Lex has been in that bathroom for over an hour. As Michael realizes this at the same time I do, we both look in its direction.
“What is he doing in there?” he asks.
“The toilet hasn’t flushed once,” I whisper. “And I don’t hear the shower.”
He nods knowingly. “What’s the deal with you two? Tell me the truth.” He comes over and sits on the edge of the bed.
I glance at him. “He’s an asshole,” I say under my breath.
“Out of defense.”
“Because that’s who he is,” I argue.
Sighing, he twists so his right leg is bent. “That’s not what I’m asking. You two knew each other way before Dreadful.”
I blink in surprise. “How the fuck do you know that?” I whisper-hiss.
Giving me a dry look, he cracks his knuckles. “I don’t think it was a coincidence that he was at that show, and then afterward you were screaming about liars and pretty princesses.”
All the color drains from my face. I swallow hard. He tracks the movement.
As much as I want to lie, I can’t stomach it. I’ve never lied directly to Michael. Not even when he begged me to forget about Germany. Not even when he insisted we told everyone he fell at his birthday party instead of me punching him in the face.
I can’t lie to him or about him.
I’m not wired that way. But I don’t want Lex to hear me tell him our history. I don’t want him to judge me or fucking disown me after I just got him back.
“Well?” he pries.
My lips part, tongue wiggles in preparation, and just before I can get the damn muscle to cooperate, Lex screams.