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The paps are having a field day as he weaves his arm around her shoulder, I notice him whisper something in her ear. Her cheeks turn pink, and he kisses her hard on the lips. I know it’s all for the cameras, but I look away regardless. Not because I don’t want it to happen… there’s just certain things a brother shouldn’t see. Your best mate and your sister playing face invaders in front of the British press is one of them. They step away from the limo doors, Cassy flattening her tight black skirt. Tight and safe under Finch’s arm, they start to walk towards the club doors. In that deliberately slow way, because as much as Kyle Finch says he hates the cameras in his face he knows exactly how to play them.
I look at Ali. Smile. Gulp. “This is it, Angel. You ready? Because if you’ve changed your mind, I’m more than happy to go home and drink tea and rub your feet.”
She chuckles her pretty little laugh.
“You don’t drink tea.” She laughs as she smiles at me, encouraging and sexy all at the same time. “I’m ready. Are you ready for the world to know you knocked up your ex-manager?”
“When my ex-manager is looking as smoking hot as you do tonight, and all fucking nights, Angel, I’m more than fucking good with it.” I wink at her, lean over and squeeze her thigh. Her breath hitches as my eyes travel up and down her body before I stand. Adjust my jeans. This is not the time for a fucking boner.
I’m momentarily blinded by the cameras flashing. The screams and shouts of my name as I step out of the car. The thumping bass of the music from the club is already making the pavement shake. I catch Terry’s eye. He winks at me and then nods at Frank. Finch’s personal security guard who, of course, is also here. I shake my arms as if to press my shirt down, but I’m flexing at the same time. My shirt rides up, It’s an old trick but it fucking works as the cameras go nuts. I turn around, lean into the car and take Ali’s hand in mine. I squeeze her fingers as she stands and I guide her out of the car, pulling her body to be flush with mine. She leans into my body, her hand straight on my abs—ownership. I fucking like it.
The cameras go mental. The flashes. The voices.
“Max!”
“Max Baines!”
“Max, over here. Max!”
“Give us a twirl with your pretty girl!”
“Back out with Kyle Finch, Max?”
“Blank Space meeting up again?”
“Max, is that? Is that Alison Cannock!”
“Alison! Alison!”
“Fuck me I want to kiss you right now,” I whisper straight into Ali’s ear, moving my body in a slight protective movement. Covering her body. “But that would be breaking a rule. Admitting to the world just how much you fucking mean to me.”
“Then kiss me Max,” she mumbles as the cameras flash. I lean into her touch, move my hands so they are obviously held on her stomach. Her bump. Our baby. As my lips find hers and I lose myself in her. Her soft mouth, her lips opening for me so willingly and my tongue sweeps into her mouth.
I know this is supposed to be for the cameras, but I think it’s more for us than anything else. I fucking adore the woman in my arms, and guessing by the way her tongue is swirling around mine she’s pretty taken by me too. When we pull back it’s harder to see whose smile is wider and I have to bite my lip to admit to her that I’m so in love with her it hurts my chest.
“Shall we?” I ask Ali, my face still close to hers.
“Lead the way, Daddy.”
FUCK ME! I’ve been called a lot of things by a lot of women but that went straight to my fucking dick. I can literally feel my balls tighten as she raises her perfectly plucked eyebrows at me. This girl knowsexactlywhat she is doing to me tonight.
I take her hand in mine and lead her into the club. Letting the cameras flash, the paparazzi and the fans scream, desperate for our attention. We’re quickly let into what I presume is this club’s VIP section. Our table is spread out with ice buckets full of champagne, spirits, and all sorts of mixers. Finch grabs the attention of one of the many private waitresses and I notice him slip her something, he was always one for overly tipping and she totters off whilst the other girl mixes cocktails for him and Cassy. He leans over to me.
“You miss queuing up outside clubs like this desperate to be let in?” He tips his head back and laughs his normal sarcastic laugh.
“Erm, no, mate. No, I do not,” I say as the other waitress returns with champagne flutes full of orange juice. Presumably Finch asked for Ali, but I take one too. I’ve got my girl, my sister, and my best friend here in one of the best and biggest clubs in London. There’s no way I need alcohol too.
