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We both laugh and end up falling about because it’s so true—and so sad, too.
“What’s going on with your mother, then?” I murmur, reaching for his hand. Thankfully he slides his fingers through mine and holds mine back.
“Early onset. I’ve wondered if he didn’t help with that, you know?”
“That’s really sad, I’m so sorry.”
He gathers me into his side and I lean my cheek on his shoulder. He still has hold of my hand, his other arm around my shoulder. It feels intimate sitting here like this.
“Do you want to do something else boring? Like an afternoon matinee or something?”
“Sounds delicious,” he enthuses, then sighs. “Let’s do it after a bit longer just sat here though.” He gazes at the green everywhere and the thick trees that offer a lot of shade. “Proper nice, this park. Can see why you live in this area, ever so artsy, just like you.”
“Wow, thanks, I guess,” I snicker.
He squeezes my shoulder. “It’s lush at the house in Ibiza, but I’m still paranoid about paps there cos they know where I hang… and it gets too hot to just sit sometimes, you know?”
“Then why go there? You could just as easily rent or buy someplace up in Scotland with not another soul for thirty miles.”
He grunts and grimaces. “Cos it’s all part of the veneer, like Sharon says… nobody’s gonna fantasise about a singer unless they think they can fix him. Gotta keep up my party boy persona.”
“I hate her guts. I really do.” A part of me also thinks he should’ve stood up to her… years ago.
“Yep, me too. Necessary evil and all that… until she absolutely crossed the line.”
I pull my head from his shoulder and look up into his face. He turns to face me and removes his glasses, staring down into my eyes. Tugging me towards his body, I’m looking up at his lips when he begins to move in.
It starts as another soul-destroying but nervous and tentative kiss that communicates how sad, lonely and frightened he is. His mouth is soft and pillowy, delicate against mine, and he gently teases the tip of his tongue into my mouth. Yet it doesn’t take long for me to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, then for his hand to dive beneath my hair so he can tug it and hold my head steady as we kiss more deeply.
He is the one to pull away and his warm breath caresses my face as he catches it. My eyes remain closed but when he kisses me so softly, I shiver from head to toe, the sensation of want and need palpable.
I feel his breath move elsewhere and that’s when I open my eyes and see him scanning the vicinity for any sign of a hidden photographer or a random member of the public who might have spotted an opportunity.
“What did you…” He shudders and catches his breath, trying to get back to normal. “What were you going to suggest, before?”
I press my lips together with relief, then take a deep breath while his eyes are focused on the world and not on me. “We, uh, we could go to the cinema and pick something random to watch. It’s a bit of a walk from here, but the clouds are starting to roll in and it seems like the dowdy atmosphere might be trying to tell us something.”
“Sounds perfect. Shall we go?”
“Why not?”
He stands from his chair and holds out his hand to me. I’m grinning like a loon as we walk away, but I have to remember what Kallie said this morning. I’ll be the one who gets hurt, won’t I? I can’t trust this man. After all, I’m not the one who’s able to screw anything that moves. In fact, I’ve got complicated feelings when it comes to sex, actually. Meanwhile, he’s screwed everything on legs for a decade. He says he doesn’t care about his father’s death, but maybe he does and being with a girl who clearly likes him more than he likes me might make him feel better… for a time.
Seriously, I have no idea what I could offer him that thousands of other girls couldn’t, but even before his dad died—he’d begun to ask me more and more what I think of his performances. Like he really cares for my opinion or whatever.
“You okay?” he asks, as we’re leaving the park and about to cross the road.
“Just trying to remember what’s on at the cinema at the moment.”
“Who the fuck cares? If it’s two hours I’m not having to perform, it’s two hours of bliss in my book.”
There he goes again, tugging at the heart strings. “I’m up for whatever.”
“Good.”
Chapter Seven
By the time we reach the cinema, there has been enough exchange of pensive and heated looks, neither of us knows which showing to see. He stands behind me while I’m served at the counter, trying not to be seen, and I ask the member of staff, “What would you recommend?”
