That I could own the universe.

“You okay, dude?” Garrett waved his hand in front of my face and I realized I had been standing, unmoving, staring into space.

Looking at the guy I considered my brother I felt like shit for even contemplating leaving him and the other guys behind.

I wouldn’t be anywhere if it weren’t for Garrett Bellows and our band.

“Yeah, sorry. Didn’t sleep much,” I said with a wry smile.

Garrett clasped his hand on my shoulder. “You need to get laid. It’s been what? Two weeks? Three? You’ll get gangrene if you don’t use it, man,” he joked and I tried to laugh. It didn’t really work.

Garrett frowned and peered into my face. I really wasn’t in the mood for his look into your soul and talk about your problems stuff.

“You sure you’re all right?”

I pushed passed him and angrily threw the curtain back on my bunk, climbing in.

“I’m f**king fine,” I said harshly, shutting out Garrett and my guilt.

“Finally,” I said with a relieved chuckle when Vivian answered the phone.

The tour bus had just gotten to St. Louis an hour and half ago. We had all checked into the hotel and I was enjoying some much needed alone time.

I had spent the remaining time on the bus hiding out in my bunk. Mitch and Jordan had tried to get me to jam with them for a bit but I said I had a headache. That I wasn’t in the mood.

Yes, I had officially grown a vagina.

I had practically run from the bus when we pulled up at the Best Western. And now I was in my room, alone, clinging to my phone and entirely too happy just because I finally got a girl to talk to me.

“Sorry. I went out last night. I had one hell of a hangover this morning,” Vivian laughed and then groaned.

I smiled, knowing what her morning must have been like. Vivian didn’t wear hung-over very well. She was mean. And she had no qualms about making everyone within a ten-mile radius as miserable as she was.

But what I wouldn’t give to be in Bakersville with her right now. I didn’t like this crazy confusion swirling around in my head. I liked cut and dry, black and white. I didn’t feel comfortable with the temptation I had been given.

“Sorry, baby. I wish I were there to take care of you,” I said huskily, thinking graphically about exactly how I would take care of her.

I wasn’t sure when things had changed for me where Vivian was concerned. We had been f**king for almost two years now. We weren’t dating. And we most certainly didn’t have a commitment.

Up until six months ago, I routinely screwed who ever I wanted, not thinking twice about how Vivian felt or what she would say about it. I didn’t particularly care. Sure, that was messed up, but it was the truth.

I knew Vivian didn’t like it. She made her feelings pretty clear on a number of occasions. But I also knew that she got off on feeling jealous. That she enjoyed getting mad and taking it out on me. That it gave her the same sick sense of satisfaction that it gave me. That despite all that when she was around, she was the only one I wanted.

She was spiteful. She was retaliatory. I knew that if I made her angry, I’d get it back in the worst way possible. She’d make me feel it.

And I dug that about her. She wasn’t like most girls I knew who said what they thought you wanted to hear. She was mouthy. She was loud. She flew off the handle at the slightest provocation.

And she drove me f**king crazy.

She pushed my buttons like nobody else. She pissed me off. She frustrated me to all hell. And she turned me on like no girl had ever known before. She just had to flip that gorgeous hair of hers and I was rock hard.

The sex had always been amazing. Viv was a tiger. She scratched, she bit, she pulled chunks of hair out of my head. And she took it as good as she gave it. She loved it when I bent her over a chair or laid her out on a pool table.

She loved it loud and public. Vivian was a total exhibitionist. She thought nothing of riding me in a bathroom at Barton’s or sucking me off in a darkened corner at the back of a club.

She was exciting. And sexy as hell.

And she had never been anything more than that. I hadn’t wanted her to be.

She was the girl I could call in the middle of the night when I needed to get my rocks off. She was the girl I knew was waiting to warm my bed when I came home in between shows. And she was the girl who would fly half across the country just to see me naked.

And she was the girl who would lose her f**king shit if she found me with anyone else. She’d scream and throw a scene. She’d turn me on in an instant. And then we would f**k all night long.

It was who we were together. I didn’t expect anyone to understand it. There were times when even I couldn’t wrap my head around what we were to each other. So I didn’t expect anyone to approve or comprehend.

It was what it was.

And there was a nice simplicity in that.

But at some point along the way, I had found it easier and easier to talk to Vivian in between bouts of marathon sex. When my dick wasn’t inside her, I would tell her about my parents. Or about the crazy shit going on with the band.

And she’d listen. She always did.

And I liked it.

Almost as much as I liked her magnificent br**sts.

“Shut up, Cole. I can’t laugh right now. It hurts too much,” Vivian moaned, low and deep and I felt my c**k stir at the sound. It’s what this girl did to me. Just the sound of her voice had me hard as a rock.

“Sorry, babe,” I said sincerely.