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SIX

JACKSON

You know, I kind of like having Hale here. The dose of drama is good for the soul. We rarely have anything exciting going on, and I can just feel the buzz of everyone’s attraction to her in the damn air. It’s like we’re all in on a secret, but none of us knows that each other knows.

I’m not going to lie. I fully plan to finally make my move this week. I don’t know how, but I’m done hiding my feelings from Hale. I’m not the one with everything to lose, and my wanting her won’t get the tabloids’ nut. I have no qualms about going after my best friend’s little sister.

Correction: STEPSISTER.

I can hear Hale’s soft voice demanding the correction even in my head. I don’t care what type of sister she is to Colby; it doesn’t stop her from belonging to me.

Hale is…perfect. In the least cliche way I can mean that. I wish I could think of a better way to describe her.

She’s sweet yet sassy at all the right times. She’s funny and witty in the smoothest ways. She’s so painfully kind, and she can see the best in everyone. Hale is the type of girl to give too many chances because she believes, It’s everyone’s first time living this life.

Hale is the girl you hope to take home to your mom. Luckily for me, she’s already met my mom . She’s known my mom since she was fourteen. That was ten years ago. Ten years ago, I laid my eyes on the girl I knew I wanted to be with forever.

I’ve always tried to hide my feelings for her behind corny jokes, and I’ve held her hand when her idiot brother was being an ass to her once again.

It’s always been the three of us, after all.

Every summer in the pool, every movie night, every late-night garage practice when she listened to me strike all the wrong chords on my hand-me-down guitar.

Colby would sing out and huff every time an off note rang out through the amps.

But she was always there, just happy to be included. A true ray of fucking sunshine. Unfortunately, the bro code exists. And while I’m not sure if bro code applies to stepsisters, Colby’s infatuation with his gives me no choice.

When Hale comes out of the bus bedroom, her hair is disheveled, and I can’t help but notice the pout of her sleepy lips.

How she can sleep on this damn bus is beyond me, but maybe that’s a good thing.

I know her being with us for this festival is supposed to be a trial run, but she already seems like a natural.

She takes to the tour bus like it’s her new second home, and the fans have been reacting really well to all of the content she’s already posted, too.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.” I pull her groggy form into my chest as she enters the common area.

“How much longer?” her sleepy voice grumbles at me.

“About an hour. You slept hard. I could hear you snoring all the way in here.”

She looks around the bus, making some sort of calculation with a confused look in her eyes.

“Nuhuh,” she says, raising her eyebrow at me. “I don’t snore.”

“Oh, but you do, sugar. Like a freight train. How someone as angelic as you can make those disgusting sounds will never cease to baffle me.” I laugh, teasing her like I’ve missed doing.

“Whatever, I need to get ready.” Rolling her eyes, she takes a sip from her water bottle to chase the ibuprofen she just rifled through the cabinet for. To cure the “nap hangover,” as she calls it.

“You know, we’ll have plenty of time to get ready before we take our stuff to the venue, right? Besides, who do you care about seeing you exactly the way you are?”

“Uhm, hot rockstars, duh.”

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but a hot rockstar is looking right at you, and I’m enjoying every bit of the view.” And I’m not lying. I really am. Her little sleep outfit does everything it needs to do and then some. Her perfect curves are hidden by nothing.

“You don’t count, Jaxie.” She looks at me with eyes full of innocence and sincerity, but I know she doesn’t mean it. Hopefully.

“Oof. You wound me, princess. Really.” I clutch my chest as if I’ve been shot in the heart.

I’m torn between the hurt of being told that I don’t count and the feeling of hearing her call me by my childhood nickname.

The one only she calls me, and only when she’s truly comfortable.

Of course, I have other shortened versions of my name that I’m called, but she’s the only one I will allow to call me Jaxie .

Partially because it’s the cutest shit I’ve ever heard coming from her lips, and also because, as my girl, even unbeknownst to her, she deserves to have her own name for me.

“Of course, I count. Who do you think is supposed to introduce our new groupie—that’s you—to all the hot rockstars that you think count?” I’m not doing that, by any fucking means, but I’ll let her believe it for now.

“As if I need a wingman,” she says coolly, disappearing into the bathroom.

I run my hand through my hair, trying to shake the bubbling feeling in my chest. How long can you love one girl? Is she really this oblivious to my feelings for her, or is she playing the long game too? Fuck, I don’t know.

Panning my eyes around the bus, I look for something else to occupy my time. Sydnee is on the couch with a pen in hand, writing music.

“That was painful to watch,” she says without looking up from her notebook.

I huff. “Then close your eyes.”

“Even if I hadn’t seen it, what did you expect me to do, plug my damn ears?”

“Well, no, but, like, butt out for a minute.” I turn back around to gander around the mini fridge. Don’t ask for what, just to not be forced to hold Syd’s eye contact.

“You don’t wonder if she would’ve given in by now if she reciprocated the feelings?” Syd asks.

“It’s not like that. Things have always been like this between us. There’s a push and a pull. But you haven’t seen any of that.”

“Calm down, I’m just curious since you’ve never spoken about her before, and that says something since you don’t shut the hell up,” she teases.

“It’s complicated.”

Fuck. Now I feel disgusted with myself. Being in love with a girl who probably sees every bit of my bullshit and still doesn’t give me the time of day.

How the fuck do I change that? If I could play the guitar and win her over like every other groupie, this would be a walk in the park.

But she loves our music because she’s watched us grow from a tiny garage band to touring sold- out stadiums, not because of our fame.

Having her follow us on tour for the first time hardly seems like the best time to change her mind, but when in Ohio, I guess.