Tame: Carter Kids #3 (15 page)

"What are you doing down there?"

Lucky's voice sounded from above me and I groaned internally.

Busted…

Looking up from my perch, I smiled sheepishly. "Hey."

"Hey back." Lucky's blue eyes searched mine, clearly looking for an answer to my unusual dining preferences. "Care to explain why you're sitting in a bathroom stall eating your lunch?"

"Only if you care to explain why you're peeking over said bathroom stall to ask me," I shot back with a smirk, tucking my dog-eared paperback back into my bag.

"I was worried about you," Lucky replied without a hint of embarrassment. "Haven't seen you around all day."

"That's because I've been hiding." Standing up, I tucked my half eaten sandwich back into my bag before opening the stall door and stepping out.

"From who?"

Falling into step beside me, Lucky followed me back into Noah's dressing room.

"The three hounds of the Baskerville," I offered, not caring that Lewis was standing at the door of the dressing room, dutifully guarding me from
nothing
.

"Ah," Lucky said knowingly. "The delightful trio that consists of Beau, Tommy, and Q."

Nodding, I tossed my bag down on the wooden bench, and sank down beside it. "They're such a bunch of assholes, Luck," I whispered, finding myself confiding in my husband's former cellmate who had come to sit beside me. "Tommy is still judging me based on my seventeen-year-old self." Dropping my head in my hands, I stifled a groan. "And Quincy and Beau are hating on me because Tommy told them a bunch of ugly stories about me." I inhaled a shaky breath before looking up at him. "I'm not that girl from high school who goes around breaking guitars off her boyfriend's head or destroys his car with paint anymore…"

"Wait?" Lucky interrupted, holding his hand up. "You broke a guitar off Noah's head?" When I nodded, Lucky burst out laughing. "Badass, Teegs. Bad-fucking-ass."

Shame crept through me at the memory.

"I did worse than that," I admitted. "A lot worse."

Lucky was quiet for a long moment before he said, "People change, Teagan."

"Yeah, they do." And I wished like hell everybody else would realize that, too. "I don't care though," I added, lying through my teeth. "I don't need anyone's approval to feel validated."

I didn't but it would be nice.

It wasn't easy not fitting in everywhere I went.

"I'm here for Noah," I reaffirmed.
Not his money…

The memory of Tommy's expression when Noah had given me a credit card the other day was still imprinted in my mind. I didn’t care about his cash. I didn’t care about anything except Noah.

Why couldn’t they get that?

"The guys can think what they like."

"Hurts though," Lucky replied carefully. "Being the odd one out."

"No," I shot back. "I'd have to care about them for it to hurt, and I don't."

"Whatever you say, blondie," he chuckled. "But for what it's worth, I find you thoroughly amusing."

"Thanks…" I cocked a brow and studied the grin on his face. "I think?"

"It's a compliment," he reassured me with a wink. "Keep doing you, Teagan. Be yourself and eventually everything will fall into place for you."

"It's just so exhausting," I admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Constantly having to watch my back around them… and I miss home." But I knew I would miss Noah more if I weren't here. "Forget I said that." I shook my head. "I'm just being dumb."

"It's not dumb," Lucky countered quickly. "It's human nature." Shrugging, he added, "I'd miss home, too, if my roommate looked like yours." He let out a whistle and pulled at the collar of his shirt dramatically. "I aint never seen a woman like her before."

"As much as I think you'd be good for her," and weirdly enough, I
did
think Lucky would be good for Hope, "she's taken," I told him. "Hope has been in love with Jordan since the day she was born."

"Who?" Lucky cocked a brow. "The flinching guy?"

"The what guy?"

"That guy who was with her in the hotel?" Lucky informed me. "Well, he flinches. A lot."

"How do you even know these things?"

"God gave us two ears, two eyes and one mouth for a reason, blondie." I rolled my eyes which caused Lucky to laugh. "You don't agree?"

"Lucky, all I know is that I don’t fit in here." That was the understatement of the century. One month on tour and it was safe to say that I was most definitely the cat amongst the pigeons – or in my case, the pigeon amongst the cats.

"That makes two of us."

Lucky's response caused me to turn and frown at him.

"What?" he chuckled. "Do you honestly think they want his former cellmate on tour with them?" Lucky cocked a brow and grinned. "Teegs, you may be the scarlet woman, but I'm Noah's white-trash homeboy."

"White-trash homeboy?" That brought a smile to my lips. "You do realize that from now on, every time I look at you, the words of The Offspring's
Pretty Fly for a White Guy
will be playing in my head?"

"Do you wanna know a secret?" Lucky teased, his blue eyes dancing with mischief.

"Always," I shot back, shifting closer so Lewis didn’t overhear us.

"Okay, but you can't tell anyone," he added, tone suddenly serious.

"I won't."

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Lucky leaned towards my ear and whispered, "I had that CD when I was a kid."

"You dick." Shaking my head, I poked him in the side with my elbow. "I thought you were going to actually tell me something real."

"It was a real CD," he shot back innocently. "A good one, too."

"Something real about
your life
, Luck," I grumbled.

"There's really not much to tell," Lucky said after a pause. "I was just your stereotypical good-guy. I did
good
things for people. I got
good
grades." He stared straight ahead as he spoke, jaw clenched. "And then bad came into my life. And
bad
took all the
good
away."

I didn’t know what to say.

Noah had told me what had happened to Lucky's girlfriend, but I didn’t want to bring it up until Lucky told me personally. He was hurting. I could see the pain in his eyes. The unresolved anger and silent rage.

My god, Lucky was hurting so bad inside…

So in typical Teagan fashion, I said the first thing that came to mind in my bid to cheer him up. "I'm allergic to latex."

"You're allergic to latex," Lucky deadpanned.

"Yep." I nodded.

"How does that even
happen
?"

"Oh, it happens," I replied solemnly. "And it's no joke." With that, I began to animatedly recall the first time I realized my aversion to the proteins inside latex rubber…

Noah and I had been sleeping in my room and I'd woken up fifteen minutes ago, feeling like someone had doused my vagina in gasoline and set me on fire.

"Jesus Christ, it burns!" I howled as I stood in the bathtub in the upstairs bathroom of Uncle Max's house with the shower nozzle directed towards my thighs. "What did you do to me?"

"Nothing, I swear!" Noah shot back in a hushed voice, pleading his innocence as he drew back the shower curtain. "Keep your voice down," he added. "Your uncle is right down the hall."

Noah wasn’t supposed to be in my house – let alone in my bathroom with me naked, but I didn’t care about that right now. All I cared about in this moment was the fact that my vagina was killing me.

"Oh shit," Noah choked out when his eyes locked on my inner thighs. "Thorn…"

"I'm on
fire
," I wept, keeping a continual, steady flow of ice cold water on my...area. "Noah, make it stop. Please..."

Running a hand through his hair in despair, Noah leapt into the tub in his boxer shorts.

Dropping to his knees at my feet, he began to blow – and not in a sexy way. "God, baby, your skin is blistering!"

"Why is this happening to me?" I cried out, grimacing in agony.

"I don’t know," Noah shrieked back. "I've never…I don’t…"

The bathroom door slammed inwards so hard that it knocked against the opposite wall, and in walked my uncle.

"Oh my god," I screamed out, grabbing at the shower curtain. "Get out!"

"Jesus," Noah grunted, quickly climbing to his feet to shield my body from view. Lamely, he said, "This isn’t what it looks like, Dr. Jones."

"She's allergic to latex," Uncle Max announced in a livid tone as he picked up a towel from the hamper and tossed it at Noah before throwing another at me. "And I gather from the area she's having a reaction in, it's from a condom."

"Oh my god," I repeated, dying on my feet of mortification.

"I didn’t know," Noah shot back, horrified. He turned to look at me. "I didn’t know, Thorn."

"I'm going downstairs to get some antihistamines for my niece," Max said in a deathly cold tone of voice before turning his back on us. "If I find you still here when I get back, I'll have you arrested for trespassing…"

"I don’t know what's more disturbing about this picture," Lucky chuckled when I finished giving him a rundown. "Noah trying to blow on you, your uncle walking in on you two, or the fact that you just told me all of that in
vivid
detail?"

I grinned. "I tend to be over divulging of details when I'm around people I trust."

He raised a brow. "And you trust me?"

"Is there a reason I shouldn’t?" I countered with a smirk.

Lucky shrugged. "The rap sheet from my old correctional officer would drum up several reasons not to."

"Look at me." I raised my left hand in his face. "I'm married to Noah Messina. Do you think I care what some stupid rap sheet says?"

If someone was to ask me to describe my feelings for Quincy Jones, then I would have to tell them this:

I hated my husband's coach with every fiber of my being. I loathed him worse than I did the dark, and I wished him a lifetime of uncontrollable bowel movements.

Unfortunately for me, hating the man didn’t make him disappear.

Being nice to him didn’t help my cause either.

So instead I tried to ignore him.

I ignored his cruel comments and I forced myself to hold my tongue when all I wanted to do was go batshit crazy on his dumb ass.

Like earlier tonight for instance, when Noah knocked Demetri Malloy out in the first round.

Instead of actually being happy for his protégé, Quincy had chewed Noah up for not giving the crowd a better fight.

And then, when we'd arrived at the casino styled nightclub to celebrate Noah's victory, Quincy had hissed the words, "Sit down, look pretty, and keep that smart mouth of yours shut," in my ear before dragging my husband off to mingle, leaving me all alone with Dick One and Three.

Sipping on my glass of chardonnay, I pretended Tommy and Beau's stares and dirty looks weren't affecting me, when in truth, they were making me feel all of two feet tall.

I knew what they said about me behind my back – and to my face.

I knew they wanted me off this tour.

The only thing I wasn’t sure of was the lengths they were prepared to go to in order to make that happen…

"Do you have a drinking problem?" Beau asked as he studied my almost completely drained glass.

"That would be her father," Tommy offered up.

"Did you know that alcoholism is an inherited gene?" Beau taunted. "A genetic defection – a mutation of sorts that is passed down." Shrugging, he added, "Maybe you should get yourself tested."

"Maybe you two should get yourselves a hobby," I shot back, forcing my features to remain impassive, even though I was breaking inside. "That way you wouldn’t have so much time on your hands to worry about my family genetics."

Standing up with as much dignity as I could muster, I placed my glass down on the table and walked away from them before I caved and showed them how much their words had hurt.

Slipping through the crowd, I didn’t stop walking until I was inside the ladies' bathroom, with a stall door barricading me from the rest of the world.

Lowering the lid of the toilet, I sank down and dropped my head in my hands.

Even though I was mentally ordering myself not to cry, traitorous tears continued to fill my eyes.

I wasn’t sure if I could take much more of this.

I loved Noah. I did. But those guys were making my life miserable.

I was lonely and I desperately wanted to go home.

But I couldn’t bail on him.

Not twice.

That's why I kept my mouth shut when the guys threw jibes at me.

That's why I pretended I didn’t care.

That's why I was currently sitting on a grime infested toilet lid and weeping into my hands.