Read Online The Opposite Of Right (Bad Decisions Trilogy #1) by Christi Barth - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christi Barth
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ass. “You really do understand musicians.”
“Yes, I do. Enough to know not to ask how many times you’ve been up here, too.” The door slammed behind them. Kylie plucked her tank away from her body. “Ugh. I need a pop. Served over a bucket of ice. Do you want anything?”
“I’ll get it for you. I need to grab a T-shirt from the concession stand.”
“Really? You didn’t sweat that much.”
“Not for me. For Deondra.” Cam wasn’t sure if he was more embarrassed to admit how he’d spiraled Riptide into shit with Triangulation , or this. Good thing they were on the stairs and Kylie couldn’t give him one of those soulful looks. “I want her to feel like she’s still a part of Riptide, part of the tour. I’m sending her shirts from every club we play.”
“That’s…that’s really cool.” Her tone was overflowing with admiration. Like he’d offered to pay for Deondra to recuperate from surgery in a Caribbean villa. Cam had messed up enough with his team. He didn’t want a damn medal when he did something right.
“No big deal. Just a handful of cotton.”
“You’re a really good guy, Cam Watson.”
Nah. But the redhead in front of him was better than good. She made him feel more genuinely appreciated, more understood, than anyone had….well, ever. Aside from that whole leaving him blue-balled in the bus episode. But what she’d just done for him was way better than any blow job would’ve been. Cam needed to let her know. “You’re not so bad yourself, Kylie. I might have to write a song about you.”
She froze, mid-step. Cranked the upper half of her torso around to goggle at him. “Seriously? You’d write a song about me?”
“You’ve seen me naked. Made love with me. And a sheet of lyrics and notes is what puts this look of awe on your face?”
“Yes. For now.” She drilled her fingers playfully into his belly. “Maybe next time we do it, you’ll up your game.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Why are you talking to me from a bathroom?” asked Amanda from the screen of Kylie’s iPad. “Did you get food poisoning in Madison? Eat too many cheese curds? ’Cause even though I love you, if you’re about to hurl, please sign off first. I don’t need to see or hear that.”
Kylie swung her legs up on the sink. It didn’t make her perch comfortable, but at least she could lean back against the paper towel dispenser. “Uh, who held your hair back less than a month ago at the GreekFest Beach Blowout? After you violated the well-known rhyme ‘wine then liquor, never sicker’?”
“You’re a better person than me. But bathrooms are, well, icky.” Amanda pinched her nose shut and fanned the air. The air she in no way could smell from one hundred and fifty miles away. “Can’t you go somewhere else?”
If only. Kylie wasn’t exactly thrilled about the location herself. She was the one with a soap dispenser digging into her hip, for crying out loud! “There’s no privacy. Anywhere. Not when you live on a bus. This is the only way I can tell you all my secrets.”
“You’ve been gone a week. How do you have secrets already?”
Only a week? How come she felt like she’d known Cam for so much longer than that? As if she’d crammed more living into one week than in her entire four years at Northwestern? “Just one secret. But it’s a doozy.”
“You got to do shots with the guys in Riptide?” guessed Amanda.
“No.” Kylie thought back to the boot-shaped beer glasses they’d chugged back at Essen-Haus until closing after last night’s concert. “I mean, yes, but that’s not the secret.”
“How cool was that? Did they do shots of tequila, like all the fan websites claim? Or was it whiskey?”
A giggle popped out before Kylie could stifle it. “Cake batter-flavored vodka, actually.”
Amanda’s jaw dropped. “That’s so girlie!”
“They did it as a favor to me. I turned down all the hard stuff, but Jones insisted on
“Yes, I do. Enough to know not to ask how many times you’ve been up here, too.” The door slammed behind them. Kylie plucked her tank away from her body. “Ugh. I need a pop. Served over a bucket of ice. Do you want anything?”
“I’ll get it for you. I need to grab a T-shirt from the concession stand.”
“Really? You didn’t sweat that much.”
“Not for me. For Deondra.” Cam wasn’t sure if he was more embarrassed to admit how he’d spiraled Riptide into shit with Triangulation , or this. Good thing they were on the stairs and Kylie couldn’t give him one of those soulful looks. “I want her to feel like she’s still a part of Riptide, part of the tour. I’m sending her shirts from every club we play.”
“That’s…that’s really cool.” Her tone was overflowing with admiration. Like he’d offered to pay for Deondra to recuperate from surgery in a Caribbean villa. Cam had messed up enough with his team. He didn’t want a damn medal when he did something right.
“No big deal. Just a handful of cotton.”
“You’re a really good guy, Cam Watson.”
Nah. But the redhead in front of him was better than good. She made him feel more genuinely appreciated, more understood, than anyone had….well, ever. Aside from that whole leaving him blue-balled in the bus episode. But what she’d just done for him was way better than any blow job would’ve been. Cam needed to let her know. “You’re not so bad yourself, Kylie. I might have to write a song about you.”
She froze, mid-step. Cranked the upper half of her torso around to goggle at him. “Seriously? You’d write a song about me?”
“You’ve seen me naked. Made love with me. And a sheet of lyrics and notes is what puts this look of awe on your face?”
“Yes. For now.” She drilled her fingers playfully into his belly. “Maybe next time we do it, you’ll up your game.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Why are you talking to me from a bathroom?” asked Amanda from the screen of Kylie’s iPad. “Did you get food poisoning in Madison? Eat too many cheese curds? ’Cause even though I love you, if you’re about to hurl, please sign off first. I don’t need to see or hear that.”
Kylie swung her legs up on the sink. It didn’t make her perch comfortable, but at least she could lean back against the paper towel dispenser. “Uh, who held your hair back less than a month ago at the GreekFest Beach Blowout? After you violated the well-known rhyme ‘wine then liquor, never sicker’?”
“You’re a better person than me. But bathrooms are, well, icky.” Amanda pinched her nose shut and fanned the air. The air she in no way could smell from one hundred and fifty miles away. “Can’t you go somewhere else?”
If only. Kylie wasn’t exactly thrilled about the location herself. She was the one with a soap dispenser digging into her hip, for crying out loud! “There’s no privacy. Anywhere. Not when you live on a bus. This is the only way I can tell you all my secrets.”
“You’ve been gone a week. How do you have secrets already?”
Only a week? How come she felt like she’d known Cam for so much longer than that? As if she’d crammed more living into one week than in her entire four years at Northwestern? “Just one secret. But it’s a doozy.”
“You got to do shots with the guys in Riptide?” guessed Amanda.
“No.” Kylie thought back to the boot-shaped beer glasses they’d chugged back at Essen-Haus until closing after last night’s concert. “I mean, yes, but that’s not the secret.”
“How cool was that? Did they do shots of tequila, like all the fan websites claim? Or was it whiskey?”
A giggle popped out before Kylie could stifle it. “Cake batter-flavored vodka, actually.”
Amanda’s jaw dropped. “That’s so girlie!”
“They did it as a favor to me. I turned down all the hard stuff, but Jones insisted on
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