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A few more times. At least he had some idea of a timetable now, then.
So much for one more night. He should have known—having Rosa again only made him want her more. For as long as they had together, anyway.
‘You don’t need to, this time,’ he said, trying to keep his tone light. He wasn’t usually one for serious relationship talk straight after sex, but if he’d learned one thing about Rosa it was that if he didn’t get in there fast she’d be gone before he ever got the chance to say anything. ‘Run, I mean.’
‘Oh?’ Propping herself up on one elbow, Rosa looked down at him, her damp hair curling around her face where it had escaped her braid. ‘Why’s that?’
‘Because I know the deal, this time.’ Jude swept his hands up her back, under her heavy plait, enjoying the opportunity to explore all that beautiful skin. ‘No strings, no expectations, right? Just you and me, enjoying the time we have together on the island.’
‘A fling,’ Rosa said, her mouth twitching up into a lopsided smile. ‘An island romance.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
She kissed him again, then, and Jude forgot for a moment how much it had hurt when she left, before.
Not this time, though. This time, he was prepared, he knew what he was getting into. He could steel his heart against falling for Rosa Gray all over again. Right?
‘Besides,’ Rosa said, sliding down to nestle in the crook of his arm again, her head resting against his shoulder, ‘you’ll be running back to New York again yourself any time soon, right?’
‘Yeah.’ New York. The city for dreamers. The place he’d wanted to get to his whole life. Except now, it felt like the last place he belonged. Especially without Gareth there to share it.
‘There’s a considerable lack of enthusiasm in that “yeah”,’ Rosa pointed out. ‘Want to talk about it?’
Jude sighed. Did he? Maybe it would help. And Rosa... Rosa was one of the few people, other than his bandmates, who knew him well enough to understand. She knew what he’d been looking for in his music, in his career. What he’d hoped for from fame.
She might understand why he was disappointed with what he’d found instead.
‘I am aware that this could be considered as being ungrateful,’ he said, as an opening disclaimer.
Rosa laughed. ‘Remember who you’re talking to here. Just ask Anna how well I know ungrateful.’
Jude hugged her a little closer to him. Whatever had been bothering her at dinner still rankled, it seemed. He’d hoped that the last hour or so of being naked in his arms might have cured it. Maybe he’d have to try again...
‘You’ve stopped talking,’ Rosa pointed out as he started kissing along her hairline again.
Talking. Right.
Jude sighed, and dropped his head back down to his shirt on the sand. ‘Do you remember, on the tour bus, how we talked about music and fame and everything that went with it?’
‘Yes.’ He hadn’t expected her to sound so definite. It was three years ago, after all. ‘I remember it all, Jude.’
His heart contracted at that. He’d always assumed she’d cared less than him, to be able to leave so easily. But there was something in her voice, a weight he hadn’t expected. Maybe he’d misjudged her.
Except that she’d still left. Nothing she said now could change that simple fact.
‘I thought that making music and getting paid for it would be enough. Gareth always wanted more, of course—he was the one who wanted the stardom, really. Wanted to show them all. He needed the riches and the success and his face in every magazine... I just wanted... I wanted to create something new and share it with the world. It was as simple—and as naive—as that.’ He almost pitied the younger man he’d been. The Jude who’d thought that music was enough and that Rosa would stay. That Gareth’s star, burning so bright, wouldn’t consume him in the end. That he could hold the world together the way he wanted it through sheer force of will.
Thank goodness he grew up.
‘And now?’
‘Now I know it doesn’t work like that.’
Rosa pressed a kiss to his bare chest, right above his heart. ‘Maybe it should.’
He huffed a laugh. ‘Maybe. But instead... I shouldn’t complain. I get to do a job others would do for free and I get paid obscene amounts of money for it. And normally I’m fine with what that means.’
‘What does it mean?’
‘It means...’ Jude sighed as he trailed off. ‘It means being Jude Alexander the brand, rather than the man. It means deciding if the songs I write fit the band’s direction, rather than if I like them. It means considering the label, the fans, the advertisers before the music.’ It meant being the person Gareth had always been, the one who thought about how to be a success first.
‘Putting them all before yourself,’ Rosa added.
‘Sometimes.’ The truth was, he’d got so used to being led to the decisions others wanted him to make, to automatically defaulting to the best business decision, he wasn’t sure if he even knew what he wanted any more.
Except for one thing: he knew he wanted to live Gareth’s dreams for him, now he was no longer there to live them himself.
That was what mattered. Gareth’s memory, and the music.
He owed Gareth that much, at least, if that was all there was left to give.
‘And then there was the book...’ Rosa lifted her head to look him in the eye. ‘I guess that didn’t go down well with the label?’
Jude laughed. ‘The opposite, actually. They loved it. It made me sound like a real rock star—affairs and parties and wild behaviour. Add in Gareth’s addiction and everything that came after and it was exactly what people imagine rock-star life to be.’
‘Was it true, though?’
‘Some of it,’ Jude admitted. ‘Some of it was exaggerated, and some just plain fantasy. But it didn’t seem to matter. The publicity around it, even before it came out, was enough to bump our latest album a bit further up the charts.’
‘All publicity is good publicity, huh?’
‘It seems so.’
‘Not for you, though.’
Jude closed his eyes, shutting out the stars above. ‘No.’
‘Tell me?’ He felt Rosa inch closer, her leg over his, her arm around his waist. She was wrapping herself around him like a protective blanket, as if she could ward off the dark or the bad memories or both. He smiled, involuntarily. For someone who never stayed, while she was there, Rosa could make a man feel as if he were the whole world.
Fame had done that for a while, too. He’d felt important, the big man in the city, just as he and Gareth had dreamed when they were poor schoolboys with no future. And yes, he’d taken advantage of it. He’d done things he looked back on and winced. He’d treated people badly, tossed his fame around like confetti.
But that wasn’t who he really was. He knew that, now, even if the readers of Jude: The Naked Truth never would.
‘Imagine someone printed a book that detailed every screw-up you’d ever made, every bad choice, every awful day, every time you were an idiot or just plain rude. And now imagine that anyone who ever thought anything of you is going to read that.’
Rosa squeezed him a little tighter around the middle. ‘I don’t think there’s a book long enough for all my screw-ups.’
‘Mine appears to be pretty lengthy, too.’ He sighed. ‘The worst part was realising all the people I’d trusted who must have contributed to it. There are stories in there that only a few people knew. The author—who has never actually met me, by the way—couldn’t have got them from anyone else.’
Suddenly the warmth of Rosa’s body next to him was gone, and when he opened his eyes she was sitting up over him, her arm across her bare breasts. ‘I’m not in there, right? Because, Jude—you know I didn’t talk to anyone, d
on’t you? I wouldn’t—’
‘You’re not in the book,’ Jude told her, grabbing her hands and pulling her back down to him. ‘You...that’s one screw-up I know you’d never make.’ She’d break his heart, leave without a backward glance, but Rosa would never sell him out. He’d doubted, for a time, but now he was sure.
‘Okay. Good.’
‘My ex-girlfriend, however, had no such restraint.’ And that still hurt. Yes, maybe he and Sylvie were never going to make it long-term, but still.
Rosa winced on his behalf. ‘You said she sold her story after you broke up?’
‘Worse. She sold it when we were still dating. I only found out after we broke up.’
‘Ouch.’
