Unwanted Stars (3 page)

Traitor.
I should have known he'd turn on me.

"Wait a minute. Don't I have a say in this?" I practically screeched. I hated when people tried to make decisions for me. It pissed me off.

"Nope," Thomas grinned, taking a sip. He winked at me and my stomach flipped a bit. We'd started flirting the day before, but it seemed like he was ready to take it to the next level thanks to the alcohol and thanks to my little slip-up on the bus. Well, game on.

"All right, I'll make you a deal. I'll take a sip any time one of you losers says fist."

The redhead across the table spit out a sip of her beer.
Nice
.

"Prost!" Tom said as he raised his glass in the air.

"Wait, I’m not finished! I'll do it if
you
can fist five steins in one hand. Five full steins." I placed my hands on my hips and glared at him, feeling awfully proud of myself.

Tom raised an eyebrow and pressed his lips together, pondering the deal.

"Better yet," he said, "I'll let you out of this if you can fist three."

"Are you scared you can't do it?" I pushed him further, standing and placing my hands on my hips, cocking my head to the side. The guys at the table chuckled and the women "oooohed," knowing I was calling Tom out.

"That's not it, lovely. I know I can do it. Not much fun in that. But I
don't know
if you can lift three. In fact, I'm willing to bet that you can't lift more than two."

"Fine, you're on. I'll lift those three steins, and when I do, I don't have to drink."

"Deal," he said, holding out his hand.

"I wasn't finished," I said, shaking my finger at him. "If
you can't handle
five steins, then
you
have to drink every time that word is said. And I will make sure it's said...a lot. So, choose wisely."

His dark eyes widened at my challenge and his cheeks turned pink again. We'd only known each other for a few days. He didn't know the real Auden yet, but he was about to. She was finally ready to come out and play.

"Let's do this," Tom said.

Three guys at the table immediately offered up their steins. I bounced around quickly like Rocky Balboa, shaking my head from side to side.

"You've got this, girl," Rhiannon yelled from the other end of the table, her dark brown curls all tied up in a loose bun. I gave her a cocky wink and pointed my finger at her. The first beer was getting into my system and I was ready to do this. If my brother could lift two when we were kids, of course I could lift three.

I cracked my knuckles together and gripped the cold, clear handles.

"Wait, wait," I stopped, remembering Jason's supposed fisting years ago. "How far off the table do I have to lift them?"

"You have to carry them from one end of the table to the other," Tom said, looking smug. He could smell my hesitation like a hunter. His fingers brushed against my arm, tickling my skin. Goosebumps rose to meet him, and I surprised myself at how he was making me feel.

"Fine, whatever." I shrugged him off, rubbing the goosebumps from my arm. He winked at me, knowing he'd affected me in a moment of weakness. Was he messing with me, or was he attracted to me too? My confidence was fading fast. If it wasn't for the cold beer rushing through my veins, I'd have been in full panic freak-out mode.

I pulled up on the glasses, gritting my teeth as I lifted them in the air. I was able to lift them a few inches off the table, but I knew there was no way in hell I'd be able to carry them to the other end of the table.
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

"
Do you give up then?" Tom taunted me, just inches from my ear. A cocky grin spread across his tan, freckled face. His musky scent invaded my senses and I was once again drawn to him in a way I hadn't expected. I wanted to punch him and then push him up against the wall and make out with him. Right there and then. Damn it!

"Screw you," I said, putting the glasses back on the table. The men at the table cheered, and their girlfriends smacked their arms, giving me sad faces in solidarity. "This isn't over. Now it's
your
turn."

The men clapped in unison, chanting Tom's name, softly at first, getting louder as they went. Within seconds, they were pounding on the table as they chanted, "Tom, Tom, Tom!"

Tom reenacted my Rocky stretch session.

"Copycat." I sneered at him. He shrugged and winked at me. His confidence was starting to piss me off, but he was awfully cute. The alcohol in my system was making that fact harder and harder to deny.
Damn it.

Making it look like the easiest thing in the world, Tom eased his fingers through the handles of the steins and lifted them up so they were even with his chest.

Again
...damn it.

With a smug look on his hot face, he walked down to the other end of the table and placed the steins easily in front of Pete, who gave him a high five and turned back to me.

"Look at how many steins he was able to
fist
, Auden."

I sneered at him, grabbing my beer to take a sip. I had lost. Time to pay the price.

"You're all assholes," I muttered. The guys near me laughed as each person at the table took turns using the word fist. It was going to be a long night.

An hour later, I'd finished off another stein and a half of beer. My legs were tingling and my head was spinning. So unprofessional, but I didn't even care. I was feeling good and having fun.

Tom called a cab for us once all of our tour members had continued on with their evenings. Many of them were heading to a nightclub, but there was no way I could handle that. I needed to get back to my room.

"You keep surprising me," Tom said, placing his arm around me in the back of the cab. The hair on my arms stood at attention as my skin tingled from his touch.

"How's that?" I said, trying my best to sound sober, even though I knew I wasn't kidding anyone.

"I thought you were this spoiled American chick."

I let out a small burp before covering my mouth with the back of my hand. "And?"

"You're actually a bit of a dag."

"Um...what the hell did you just call me?" I was more than just a little confused. I'd never been to Australia and had no idea what he was saying.

"Sorry. I mean, you're um, a character. You're interesting. Don't worry, though. I'm not cracking onto you."

"Excuse me?" I recoiled.

"You know, um, I'm not trying to get in your pants. I'm just pissed." He closed his eyes, resting his head back on the fake leather seat of the cab. I knew what pissed meant. We were both pretty drunk.
Probably better to drop it, Auden.

"
So, what...I'm not hot enough for you to
crack on?"
I don't drop things easily.

A hearty laugh left his lips as he opened his eyes back up. "Crack
onto you."

"
Whatever," I rolled my eyes. "You still didn't answer my question."

"I'm avoiding it," he said, putting his head back on the seat.

"Why?" I asked, turning my body and placing my hand on his knee.

"Look, you're hot, don't get me wrong. But right now, I'm your supervisor. Can't happen."

"I understand," I said, stroking his knee with my fingertips. I couldn't help it. I knew he was right, but the daring part of me wanted to push my luck. I'd had quite the dry spell before arriving in Europe and was starting to crave the touch of a man. And Tom made me feel comfortable and turned on all at the same time.

"You really are a dag."

"You'd better tell me what that actually means."

"You're such a goose.”

"A what?" Did he just compare me to a
bird
?

Tom's laughter echoed through the cab as he threw his head back. I really needed a translator for this guy.

"You’re not a goose. I was kidding. But…you
are
a goofball."

"I am not," I hissed.

"Yeah," he nodded, "you just don't realize it. You try to be all serious and smartarse, but you're not. Deep down, you're a dag just like the rest of us."

Our cab pulled up at the hotel and Tom paid our fare. I slammed the cab door on him as I escaped the confines of his rejection. I hated being rejected. It had to be the worst feeling in the world. My tingling skin was aching for him to touch me, and I wanted his lips on mine, but, he didn't want me in return.

Slowly, I found my way to my room. I dug through my purse, trying to find my key card. Finally, I grasped it between my fingers just as I heard Tom call my name.

Great, just what I need
.

"What?" I snapped at him.

He jogged to where I stood and stopped only inches away from me and kissed me hard, backing me into my hotel room door. The number on the door scratched into my neck, but my hormones were on complete overdrive. And as Tom pressed his hot tongue to my neck, licking and sucking as I moaned, I was way too distracted to feel the discomfort of the brass number piercing into my skin. His kisses felt good. Amazing, in fact. But, aside from our easy flirting, I knew I wasn't that into him. I wasn't looking for a relationship, and I was pretty sure he wasn't either, but his touch was addictive and I didn't want him to stop.

"Let's go in.”

"You think it's going to be that easy, huh?" I laughed as he sucked on the skin at the base of my neck.

"Isn't it? I mean, in the cab—"

"Shh," I said, placing my fingers on his mouth. "Do you really think I'm a goofball?"

"Yeah," he admitted with a shrug. I scrunched my nose in irritation.

"You act like it's a bad thing," he said, running his fingers through my long, strawberry blond curls. Every touch was making me ache further.

"It is," I snapped. "I don't want to be a goof. I want to be irresistible."

"You're that, too. Why do you think I'm here? I should be in my own room, sleeping off the night, getting ready for tomorrow's commute."

"But you're not," I flirted.

"That's right. I'm not."

I kissed him again, not knowing what I was feeling or what I wanted. All I knew was that it felt really good. It felt good to be wanted, to be kissed and desired. Stumbling through my small hotel room, we fell onto the bed, and Tom stripped me of my clothing, completely forgetting the definition of the word 'foreplay.'

The sex was fast and sloppy. It was over almost immediately after it began. I stared up at the ceiling, realizing how desperate I was acting. I was comforting my loneliness with meaningless, mediocre sex with my
boss
.

What in the hell was wrong with me?

Tom looked embarrassed as he pulled the condom off and tossed it into the garbage can. He ran his fingers through his choppy, sandy locks, scratching his scalp with his fingernails.

"Uh, do you want me to stay?"

"Doesn't matter to me," I said, shaking my head, not making eye contact. I knew I was being a dismissive bitch, but how else was I supposed to act? I didn't want him sleeping here. When I sobered up the next morning, the last thing I needed was to see my boss in my bed. No way was that going to happen.

"I'll be going then," Tom said, pulling his cargo shorts back on. "Look, Auden—"

"It's not a big deal, okay? We'll just pretend this never happened."

"And you won't feel...awkward?"

"No," I said, doing my best to look shocked that he'd even ask, but my nonchalance was coming off way too dramatic.

"Look, we filled a void. We’re drunk and things happened. It's no big deal."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his brow wrinkled.

"I'm not going to say it again." I glared at him. "Eight o'clock is going to come real quick, ya know," I hinted. He glanced at his watch and grimaced.

"Okay then. Goodnight."

"Night."

I got ready for bed, pissed at the world as I switched off the light and got under the covers. Auden, the drama queen, Auden, the spoiled brat was at it again. The next day was going to be awkward with Tom and I had no one to blame but my own goddamn self. Eventually, I was able to drift off to sleep, totally dreading the eight days remaining on the tour. Eight more days of Tom. I couldn't wait to be back in London.