by Nikki Ashton
Rocco watched his papa carefully and saw the truth in what his mum was saying. He’d seen the anguish Luke went through whenever a story appeared in the newspaper. It had been hard on him, and in turn on all of them too. They adored their parents and seeing either of them hurting was distressing.
“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” Rocco pushed up from his chair and standing behind Martha, hugged her tightly and looked over at Luke. “I’m sorry, Papa.”
Luke took Rocco’s hand and squeezed it. “I know you are, son, and we know it won’t happen again.”
“It won’t, I swear.”
“Good, because you’re going to be busy for a few weeks anyway.” Luke looked at Martha and grinned.
“What’s going on?” Rocco asked as he loosened his grip on his mother.
“You’re going to work for me, so you’ll be too knackered to even move, never mind have sex.”
“What do you mean, I’m going to be working for you?” Rocco’s brow furrowed. Dirty Riches were on a six-month hiatus and Luke was spending all his time at home; they all were. Noah was left to run the record company.
“We’re doing a concert for charity in Hyde Park in two months’ time.”
“Yeah, so,” Rocco said, tentatively looking between his parents. “What’s that got to do with me?”
“You, my beautiful boy, are going to be our runner while we rehearse—a gopher if you like.” Luke’s grin was a mile wide as he watched Rocco’s face fall.
“But you’ll treat me like shit,” he groaned. “They all will. Uncle Jake will think it’s hilarious to make me work like a dog.”
Martha bit down on her lip, highly amused at Rocco’s discomfort, because he was right, they would treat him like a slave.
“That’s the consequences of breaking the rules,” Luke replied. “You knew what they were and how clear I was about them, yet you still broke them.”
“That’s not fair. Mum, tell him.”
Martha shook her head. “Sorry, but you heard your papa. And don’t think your little partner in crime is getting away with it either. Skins is making Ethan work at Arlington Hall Hotel, for the summer. I believe he’s got a job washing up—double shifts.”
“No way! You can’t, we’re just being young. We can’t help it if girls want us.” Rocco wailed as he started pacing up and down, tugging at the leather bracelets at his wrist. This was seriously going to spoil his summer. They wouldn’t be able to go out drinking and meeting girls. Their dads would make sure they were far too tired for that. Yeah, well he’d drink lots of energy drinks if he had to. Hah, let them see if they could spoil his fun.
“Oh, and by the way,” Luke said casually. “We’re stopping your allowance too.”
Rocco’s mouth gaped open as his father’s words sunk in.
“No, you can’t.”
“Oh, I can.” Luke laughed and slapped Rocco on the back. “Sucks balls, hey, son?”
Rocco nodded, not having any words to describe the devastation he was feeling.
“I promise you,” Luke said, still laughing. “By the time I’m finished with you, you won’t remember what sex is, never mind how to do it. I think those one-night stands may well be a thing of your past.”
Rocco flopped into a chair, his hands hanging at his sides wondering how many times a day he’d have to whack one off to help get him through the summer—but somehow, he just knew nothing other than the real thing would be enough.
Chapter 3
Rocco kicked a stone against the garden wall, cursing under his breath.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” Ethan said. “How the hell am I supposed to hook up with anyone, when I’m washing other people’s dirty dishes?”
Eliza Hughes, the daughter of Dirty Riches Lead Guitarist, Jake Hughes, snorted a laugh. The three of them—she, Rocco and Ethan—had always been tight. Best friends since they were tiny, but since the boys had gone away to Uni, she’d felt like she’d lost them. When they’d returned home for the summer, she’d hoped things would get back to normal, but it hadn’t. The boys had discovered tequila and women, so had little time for Eliza. They’d always had girls chasing after them and were by no means virgins when they both went away to Uni—Ethan going a year late after having to retake his A-levels, but a year away from home had seen their manwhoring ways ramp up to epic proportions.
“All you had to do was obey the rules,” she said, looking up at Ethan. “Or at least be more careful.”
“Just because you’re a goody-two-shoes, daddy’s girl,” Ethan snapped.
“Hah, her, a goody-two-shoes,” Rocco scoffed. “She’s just sneaky. Uncle Jake has no idea what a wild child she really is.”
Eliza grinned, but her stomach flipped. If only they knew—she really was a goody-two-shoes. A virginal one at that. Her best friends thought she’d had sex, with numerous boys, but they really had no idea. Eliza only had eyes for one person, and he was totally unattainable. As Rocco grinned at her, Eliza wanted to burst into tears, she felt the pain sharply in her chest. He was so damn gorgeous, and he would only ever think of her like a sister, but she loved him. She’d always loved them—Rocco and Ethan—but the last two years her love for Rocco had changed to that of a woman for a man. She yearned for him and was desperate to kiss those plump lips of his, but it was never going to happen. Rocco simply didn’t think of her in that way.
“What my dad doesn’t know about won’t hurt him,” she said, perpetuating her own lie. “As long as I study hard and get the A-level results I need for Uni, he’ll remain oblivious.”
Eliza desperately wanted to be a rock star, with her band, Snake Bandit, but her parents said she had to get a degree first. She was sure she could have sweet talked her dad into helping her with the band, but her mum was fierce and had the great rocker, Jake Hughes, completely under her control. Not in a bad way, just in the way that her dad adored her mum. He would do anything for her, and that included going against his beloved Princess’ wishes and making her go to Uni, with the promise of help once she’d finished her education. Hence, she was off to study music production and sound engineering over the summer, while her current drummer and bass guitarist had decided to go travelling around Australia. Eliza wasn’t confident they’d come back, but she wasn’t too worried, they really weren’t that good, and her dad agreed, which was why he’d offered to help her when the time came—after Uni.
If she got her grades, then she was going to London, and would be close to Rocco and Ethan who were both on the same media course at another London university. The thought made Eliza’s stomach drop. She was dreading being so close to Rocco. He’d have no excuse not to see her on weekends, it wasn’t like he’d be two hours away, which was the reason they barely saw each other now. He’d be a half hour away on the tube, and if he said he couldn’t catch up because he was busy—presumably with a girl, it would gut her.
“You might actually have fun.” Eliza aimed her comment at Rocco—there was no way Ethan would be having fun washing dishes, but helping during the run up to a concert, that was totally different. “I’d kill to do that for the summer. Think of all the experience you’ll get.”
“Experience for what?” Rocco groaned. “I have no fucking idea what I’m going to do with my degree. The ‘rents wanted me to go to Uni and media seemed the easiest option, but what the hell do I do with it?”
“Plenty of things,” Eliza replied, shaking her head in frustration. “With your connections and a good degree behind you, you could easily get a job in TV or radio. You both could.”
“But I don’t want to use ‘my connections’.”
“Me neither,” Ethan agreed. “There’s no way I want people saying I only got a job because of who my dad is.”
“Yeah, just because you’re happy to let daddy help set up your band.” Rocco grinned at Eliza, just to show her he was joking.
Eliza stuck her tongue at him. “That’s all he’s going to be doing, dickhead. Making sure I get the best ban
d available.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Rocco laughed and nudged Eliza with his shoulder. “Anyway, where is everyone?”
Rocco looked up towards their Uncle Tom’s house, searching for the rest of their huge band of Dirty Riches family. While they weren’t blood relations, they all looked on each other as family; aunties, uncles and cousins by choice rather than DNA. Tom Davies was the band’s bassist and was well known for his mega barbeques and tonight was their first of the summer. The garden was usually full of all the band’s kids by now, while the adults prepped the food and Auntie Abbie, Tom’s wife and Jake, the lead guitarist’s sister, mixed huge jugs of Long Island Iced tea for the adults and virgin Pina Colada for the kids. Tonight, though, no one was in sight. Eliza, Rocco and Ethan had sneaked out earlier, mainly because Rocco was sick of hearing about all the shitty jobs that he was going to be given over the summer.
“They’ll be out soon enough,” Ethan grumbled. “My mum won’t want to take her eyes off me for long. She’s so pissed at me. She actually smacked my bare arse with a magazine when she found me in bed with that girl on Sunday morning. I can’t believe I forgot to set my alarm like usual. Her bloody tits were out too.”
Rocco and Eliza both started to laugh at the image Ethan had conjured up. He was huge, almost six four and had inherited his dad’s muscular build, and while their Auntie Stacey was fairly tall, she was petite, so it must have been a real sight to see her hitting her hulk of a son.
“It wasn’t funny,” Ethan groaned. “Not only is it embarrassing to be beaten on by your mother, in front of a girl, but my mum saw my arse.”
“Ugh,” Eliza grimaced. “Seeing that big hairy thing is enough to make anyone lose their mind.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know I have perfectly smooth buns of steel.” Ethan turned around, dropped his shorts and mooned his friends.
“Fuck, Ethan. Really?”
“Rocco’s right, we haven’t eaten yet.”
Ethan grinned and flipped them the bird while tugging his shorts back up with the other hand.
“Hey,” Rocco said, nodding towards the top end of the garden. “Here’s your little bro’, Eliza.”
The three friends watched as sixteen-year-old, Hendrix, swaggered down the garden towards them.
“’Sup,” he said, giving them all a chin lift.
Hendrix Hughes was extremely cool for his age and most definitely ruled his school. The boys all wanted to be his friend, or be like him, and the girls just wanted him. With shaggy blonde hair, bright blue eyes and the body of a swimmer, he was the most photographed of the Dirty Riches kids. He’d already done some modelling and it looked as though that was where his future career would lie.
“Where’s everyone else, Squid?” Eliza asked, giving her brother’s hair a ruffle.
“Coming now. They’ve been discussing us all going away for Christmas together.”
“It’s only fucking June,” Ethan groaned. “What is it about old people planning six months in advance?”
“Cause they’re not sure how much longer they’ve got left,” Rocco quipped.
“Rocco!” Eliza punched him in the arm. “Don’t talk like that.”
“It was a joke,” he groaned, rubbing at the sore spot on his bicep. “Shit, you punch like a dude.”
“Well, it wasn’t funny. I hate to think of any of them not being here.”
“Shit, she’s getting emotional,” Hendrix said, pulling a chair out from one of the garden tables. “Is it red tide week?”
“Ugh,” Eliza groaned. “You are so disgusting.” She pushed off from the high wall surrounding the garden and moved over to her brother, smacking him around the back of the head.
“Ooh you’ve woken the beast.” Ethan jerked back, away from Eliza’s hand that now shot towards him. “Gotta be quicker than that, honey bun.”
Eliza glared at him and stormed up the garden. “I’m going to help with the food. Leave you three Neanderthals out here to compare your bollocks.”
“I’ll win,” Rocco shouted after her. “Mine are bigger and full of Italian spunk, and we all know Italian spunk is the best.”
“Fuck, Rocco,” Ethan moaned. “I do not want to be thinking about your balls or spunk while eating barbeque food.”
“God, you really are gross,” Hendrix said with a shake of his head. “I really do wonder why my sister—” Hendrix snapped his mouth shut and stared wide eyed at his two friends. “Anyway, I was sent to get you to come in and help carry some food out. And stop talking to my sister about your hairy nut sack.”
He got up quickly and ran after Eliza, calling her name.
“What the fuck’s wrong with him?” Rocco asked.
“No idea,” Ethan said. “Maybe the thought of your bollocks made him feel strange.”
“Hmm,” Rocco mused, watching Eliza and Hendrix disappear into the house. “Maybe.”
Chapter 4
A few hours later the food had been decimated by the hordes, and the kids were all playing a game of football while the adults watched them. Rocco, Ethan and Eliza, had been roped in to play even though the three of them would have much preferred to sit around drinking with their parents. Eliza was hanging despondently around in the goal, while Ethan bulldozed his way through the opposing team with the ball seemingly stuck to his foot. Rocco was sulking having been robbed of the ball three times by Harrison, Tom and Abbie’s son. He was small and wiry for his age and he and his twin, Matilda thought it was hilarious that he’d been able to rob Rocco so easily. Truth be told, Rocco was not very good at sport.
“Oh God, look at his face,” Martha said from behind her hand. “He looks like he’s just been slapped with a wet fish.”
“He’s not very good at soccer, is he?” Abbie stated.
“Abs, it’s football, love.” Jake grinned at his sister as she huffed out a sigh.
“Leave her alone,” Tom said, flicking at Jake’s ear. “She can call it what she likes—can’t you baby?”
Abbie nodded and flipped Jake the bird.
“Why is he so shit at sport?” Skins asked, throwing a peanut up and catching it in his mouth. “’Cause to hear you talk, Luke, you could have played football professionally. So, why hasn’t your son inherited your silky skills? Even Ernie was better at footy than him.”
“Oh, my little Ernie,” Martha said in a broken voice.
“Nice one stupid. Now you’ve upset her. You okay?” Luke asked his wife, taking her hand in his and kissing it.
Martha nodded with shimmering eyes. Her beloved Jack Russell, Ernie, had passed away a few years earlier, at the grand old age of twenty, but Martha still got upset about it and had refused to have another dog.
“I never said that,” Luke replied. “When did I ever say I could have played football professionally?”
Jake let out a loud laugh. “All the fucking time.”
“Language,” Amber hissed, hitting her husband on the arm.
“They’re all playing, they can’t hear me. And don’t take the attention off Luke, he was about to explain about his footballing prowess and how it has evidently skipped a generation.”
At that exact moment, Rocco went flying over the foot of Hettie, Tom and Abbie’s eldest daughter. He lay sprawled out, face down, as the younger kids all ran over and past him to try and get the ball from Ethan, who then kicked it with force into the empty goal. The goal being empty because Eliza was doubled up laughing at Rocco, prone on the grass.
“Oh shit,” Luke groaned. “He’s not going to be happy.”
Rocco pushed up onto his feet and brushed off the bits of grass that were stuck to his clothes. His hand then went to his hair that was perfectly styled to look as though he’d just got out of some girl’s bed.
“Ah fuck,” Tom laughed. “The hair, it’s been damaged in the fall. Shit, someone get inside and grab the first aid kit.”
“Stop it,” Martha chastised, although she couldn’t help smiling. “You know how important his hair i
s to him.”
“Oh God, here’s the other one now. So much coolness in one place, how will we cope?” Stacey, Skins’ wife, started to giggle as Rafa, Luke and Martha’s thirteen-year-old son, appeared from the house.
He was the exact replica of Rocco, but a foot shorter. He wore the same style clothes, had the same hair style and the same cocky, confident air of a boy who knew he was good looking. He rarely got out of bed before noon when he wasn’t in school, and when he was in school, he emerged from his pit with just minutes to spare before the school bus picked him up—yet he still managed to look as if he’d spent two hours on his appearance.
“I totally blame you,” Jake said, pointing at Luke.
“What, for my sons being cool?”
“No, for your sons thinking you’re cool and trying to emulate you in everything.”
“Excuse me,” Abbie said indignantly. “But I think you’re all to blame for all your sons thinking they’re cool.”
“Shit, Harrison really thinks Tom is cool?” Jake asked, astonished. “God, that kid needs help.”
“Ha-fucking-ha, shit head.” Tom threw a leftover bread bun at his friend. “My kids think I’m the best thing to walk this planet.”
“Whatever sugar tits, if that’s what you think.” Jake laughed and took a swig of his beer.
“I do and stop calling me sugar tits when the kids are around.”
“Why?” Jake asked, perplexed. “I’ve always called your sugar tits.”
“Yeah well, that was before Matilda asked me whether it was a pet name because we’d ‘been involved once’.”
Jake spat his beer out as Luke and Skins roared with laughter, causing all the kids to pause their game and turn to their parents.
