“That’s easy.” Jett nods. “But darling, if Itell you I’m not shagging someone, you need to believe it. If Ipromise you’re the only one I’m sleeping with and sign it in my fucking blood, you need to trust me. All right?”
I nod, also very relieved, and then my brain pings, scrolling until Ifind what Iwanted to look for next. “Aww, youdohave a whole folder of me! That’s so sweet!”
“You sure about that, Baby?”
My jaw drops as Isee probably the best collection ofmethat I’ve ever seen. Pictures of me on the beach in a tiny bikini, among selfies of us on his music video set with me wearing the world’s tightest dress, me as Princess Aerin and Cherry, all photos where I’m barely dressed and look hotter than a sauna. “Jett! This is a wank bank!”
“Still think it’s sweet?” The way his lips curl, delighted in my shock, turns me on. What can Isay?
“Well, Idon’t know if I’d say sweet. But it’s fucking flattering.”
He grins. “Not creepy?”
Idon’t know if Ishould admit this to him or not, but knowing how long Jett’s been secretly thirsting for me lights me up like a switchboard, and any reminder or evidence of it makes me sweat. Instantly.
“You know Ilike creepy stuff most of all.” Is all Igive away and he laughs. “And what are you looking for on my phone, hmm?”
“Engagement ring ideas the asshole sent.”
I arch a brow as he scrolls through the images looking like he may hurl and Istart giggling. He straightens his spine and goes into full Archer accent, “Take a look at the ghastly garbage Icall jewellery and hope you don’t notice I’m screwing the mousiest fuckin’ mouse in the West End!”
Isnort and smack him on the arm, “now you’re going to make me throw up! Why are you sending all thoseghastlyring pictures to your phone?”
“So, Iknow the complete fucking opposite of what to shop for. These rings are fit for a mouse, like Imogen, not aqueenlike you, Baby.”
My cheeks heat, and Ispin the diamond bracelet around my wrist. “You already gave me diamonds, Jett, and the tattoo will be more than enough to make me feel like I’myours! You don’t need to—”
“Nothing will ever be enough with me, Baby, you know that. In terms of hitting that next goal? Ican’t stop thinking about it until Ireach it, and then I’m on to the next. That’s who Iam, and you’re included in that now. You know I’ll only want one thing for you, then another, then—”
“Oh, Iknow.” Ithink about Jett when he had wild hair, round cheeks, complete with tongue piercing and lip ring. Iget tingly heartache butterflies thinking about what could’ve happened if he’d asked me out back then and I’d been smart enough to say yes. “When we first met, it wasmake it on the Billboard Hot 100,and as soon as you did it, it wasbreak a million views on YouTube,and then it wasgold record first, then platinum,and on and on!”
“I can’t help it; it’s always been that way. And proving I’m worthy of spoiling the ultimateBabygirl,Baby Morningstar? Sounds like agreatfucking goal. First it will be tattoos, then a ring, then this fit-for-a-fuckin-vampire-bed. Maybe a big bougie house down the road from Mum and Dad. Perhaps a castle on the Isle of Man? Marriage and then babies who look like us. Trying to stop me is futile, darling.”
I lean over and grab a crème brûlée off the side table because: “You’re making me woozy,darling.”
He grins, sets my phone down, grabs the spoon, and starts feeding me. “I rather like making you woozy, Baby, as long as there’s sugar nearby.”
Chapter 32
Maddy
I am twenty-six, and Jett is twenty-seven. It’s early October in the south of England. The sun is attempting to peek through the unrelenting grey as we pull up like a funeral procession to one of the most gorgeous places I’ve seen in a while. We’re all here, the entire cast ofPalace of Lies,sans crew or Mickie, and me being a grown ass woman, and my boyfriend being extremely busy promoting his new album, Ishould be here on my own. But surprise, surprise, I’m not.
Jett had three appearances in London yesterday, and now that we’re out of the city, Ifeel like Ican finally take a breath. He squeezes my knee and lets out an impressed huff seeing our destination, while Kel carefully takes out the last few pin curls she’s had stuck to my head overnight.
He gapes out the window. “So beautiful, most beautiful fuckin’ thing I’ve seen other than my Baby and my Kel. Just mental.”
Kel rolls her eyes, but her apple cheeks turn a devastating shade of scarlet. Kel has loved Jett since she was sixteen, blasting his rebellious records in her teenage bedroom innot-so-rebelliousNotting Hill. Sometimes I’m mad that I’m not as smart as Kel, that Ididn’t pull my head out of my ass and become Jett’s fangirl from the start like her. She never loses her cool around him, though; other than her cheek color, even her perfectly applied bronzer and highlighter can’t cover that.
“Can you believe how well it still stands? Wardour Castle has been here since the fourteenth century,” she says, making sure our attention is away from her and that blush. Itdoesn't work, my boy's eyes hone in on her.
“Kel, what's your type? Blokes?”
“Not you if that's what you're suggesting!” The blush spreads across her entire face.
“Uh huh. Then who?”
“Probably Michael B. Jordan, Iliterally watch Sinners before bed just so he can make an appearance in my dreams.”
