by SC Daiko
I turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist and headed for my room. On a whim, I checked the messages on my phone. Axel, as usual. Asking when he and Phoenix could hang out. I couldn’t put them off much longer, but could I handle seeing them without a drink in my hand?
How about you and Phoenix come over day after tomorrow evening for a barbeque? I messaged.
Sounds great, he pinged back.
I stretched out on my bed and shut my eyes. The AC hummed softly and soon I was drifting off to sleep.
The next morning, after we’d gotten back from another bike ride in the canyon, I perched in front of the mirror in my bedroom while Hayley applied white mascara to my lashes.
“I’ll add some brown eyeliner to change their shape,” she said, leaning into me while she worked.
Fuck, her tank top had gaped open, giving me a flash of her luscious tits. I squirmed in my chair…my balls had grown heavy.
She caught me staring and stepped back, her heart-shaped face aflame. “Sorry,” she muttered, adjusting herself.
“I enjoyed the view,” I smirked.
She laughed and swatted me on the arm. “Asshole.”
“Yours truly.” I winked.
She lifted my chin and swirled powder in the hollows of my cheeks. “Look into the mirror, Limey.”
I did as she asked. She’d whited out the ends of my thick dark lashes and had made my almond-shaped eyes rounder with the eyeliner. I normally wore shades when out in public, but I’d need to take them off in the nursing home and if we went into a restaurant. I squinted at my reflection, at the paleness of my cheeks. “You did a great job.” I turned my head from side to side.
“Just need to slick down your hair,” she said. “Sit still.”
I felt myself relax while she ran her fingers over my scalp, taming my wavy mane. She squirted gel into the cup of her hand and applied it before tying my hair back in a pony. “I’ll tuck this under a ball cap.” Her tone was confident. “Then you’re good to go.”
I stood and towered over her. She stared up at me and I resisted the urge to kiss her. I reached for her hand. “Time to head out into the big bad world, Yankee Girl.”
Chapter 10
Pierce
Rick Wilson spent the entire time we sat with him, on the patio at the nursing home, referring to Hayley as Suzanne, which was her mum’s name. Yankee Girl had warned me beforehand this would happen. The poor bloke had sunk so deep into dementia he had no recollection of her existence, seemingly convinced he was still in his early twenties.
“Why am I here with all these old people?” he kept asking, before shooting me a confused look. “Who’s this dude?” He grimaced. “I don’t like his ugly mug.”
Hayley and I had agreed I’d introduce myself as Pete, Martha’s latest beau. She’d been Suzanne’s bestie and Rick had appeared satisfied with Hayley’s answer, only to forget it and repeat the question again and again.
Thank God, eventually he fell asleep in his wheelchair, and a nurse arrived to take him back to his room.
Hayley gave her dad a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a couple days,” she murmured.
I caught the sadness in her eyes. Visibly, she loved her dad a lot…an emotion I’d never felt toward my own sorry excuse for a father. I gritted my teeth. He’d never acted much like a parent toward me, whereas, given Yankee Girl’s obvious feelings for Rick, it had almost certainly been the opposite in her case.
The nursing home was in the heart of Santa Monica, not far from the iconic pier. We’d decided that’s where we’d go once this visit was over. I grabbed Yankee Girl’s hand as we exited the low-slung building “No one’s recognized me here. Let’s go have some fun. It’ll take your mind off things.”
Her fingers trembled and her amber colored eyes welled up. “Dad gets worse every time I see him.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Taking my mind off things sounds like a good plan…”
Joe was waiting for us outside in my Audi SUV and drove the short distance to the beach. He rolled to a stop in the parking lot and jumped out to do a risk assessment. “Do you want me to come with ya, boss?” he asked.
I vogued what Rick had referred to as my ugly mug and laughed. “Think I’ll be fine.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “I’ll call if we need you.”
“Would you believe it’s my first time here?” I said to Hayley as we made our way past the carousel toward the amusement park. “How about we go on a ride?”
She flicked her long cinnamon red braid over her shoulder and lengthened her stride to keep up with me. “Cool. I’d like that.”
I was in my late twenties and behaving like a teen, but I gave zero fucks. I’d been working like a slave since I was twenty-two, partying like the rock star I was. This was good, clean fun. It felt different and kind of nice.
After I’d bought our entrance tickets, we headed for the roller coaster and soon we were careering at dizzying heights above the Pacific Ocean.
Nothing like beginning on a high note.
Not the scariest I’d been on—I’d ridden the Stealth at Thorpe Park in the UK—but it gave me a buzz that the smile had returned to Yankee Girl’s face.
At the end of the ride, I suggested to her we go on the Ferris wheel. She said she loved Ferris wheels, and we joined the short line at the entrance. Within minutes, it was our turn to hop on. I breathed in the scent of the sea as I sat next to her in the gondola. She’d shunted her lithe body over to the edge of the car, leaving a space between us I’d love to fill.
This girl. This sweet pint-sized girl was something else. Weird she wasn’t that into me, and for the umpteenth time I wondered why. The whole way round, gazing at the stunning views of the coast, I toyed with the idea of asking. It was on the tip of my tongue to do, but we’d arrived back where we’d started and it was time to move on.
“Get your kicks on route sixty-six,” I sang as we sauntered past the sign indicating the western terminus of the historic road, and she sang with me in a soft voice. The pier wasn’t crowded…it didn’t concern me that anyone would get too close and see through my disguise. Bloody Jake. It was all his fault the band had become so recognizable. He’d organized myriad photoshoots in the music mags during our rise to fame, as well as innumerable social media blasts.
Life was what it was, I reminded myself. The past had led me here. I’d made my choices and would have to live with the consequences.
“Let me buy you lunch,” Hayley offered, tilting her pretty little head toward me.
“No. I’ll treat you.” My tone brooked no argument. “It was my idea to come here, so I’ll pick up the tab.”
We found a table on the patio of a Mexican restaurant and waited to be served. The day had heated up and sweat trickled down the sides of my face. “Can’t hack this any longer.” I removed my ball cap, then slid off my shades to give them a wipe. “Doubt there are any ChiMera fans around…”
I hadn’t factored in our server, a leggy blonde who approached our table and let out a shriek of recognition. “You’re not…you’re not Pierce Fox?!?”
Should I say I get mistaken for him all the time, or should I fess up?
Before I’d even spoken a word, Blondie pulled out her phone and jammed her head next to mine to snap a selfie.
“Thanks.” She handed us menus. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Water will be fine,” Hayley and I said in unison.
“Did you think I’d ask for a beer?” I smirked.
“Just doing my job.”
I leaned back in my chair, aware people at the surrounding tables were staring at us, and I resigned myself to posing for more selfies. I’d sweated off the make-up Hayley had so painstakingly applied, and my long hair hung down the sides of my face like on the covers of our albums.
Blondie returned with our water and the menu. After consultation with Hayley, I ordered a large platter for sharing… nachos, taquitos, mini chimichangas and a quesadilla.
; Hayley’s expression had turned sad again, and she stared into the distance.
I reached over and covered her hand with mine. “Try not to be down about your dad…”
“I can’t help it.” She pressed her lips together.
“The nursing home seems to be taking good care of him.”
“It’s the best we can afford,” she sighed.
Our food arrived and we dove in. “Can’t remember the last time I ate out like this. I mean, without the guys and not being surrounded by security.”
“Did you eat out much as a kid?” She bit into a nacho.
“Nope. I grew up on a council estate, which is what you call public housing.” I took a sip of water. “People from my background got fish ‘n chips take out if they were lucky. My dad drank away most of his pay, so it wasn’t something we could manage.”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t know…”
“Like father like son, I bet you’re thinking. Except for the money side.”
I’d revealed more to her than I’d revealed about myself to anyone on the planet. Fuck knows why. We lapsed into silence while we finished eating, each of us lost in our separate thoughts.
Suddenly, my cellphone pinged.
A message from Joe.
The paps have arrived.
“That fucking waitress,” I growled after telling Yankee Girl what had gone down. I threw more than enough cash down on the table to settle the bill. Then I reached for Hayley’s hand. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
We speed walked toward the front of the pier. A bunch of people had started following us, calling out to get my attention. Yankee Girl’s fingers quivered in mine. “Don’t be scared,” I reassured her. “It will be fine.”
Joe had driven the Audi right up to the entrance. He leaped out and opened the doors as the journos shouted, “Who’s the new lady in your life, Pierce? Are you finally settling down?”
Without saying a word, Hayley and I piled into the car.
Joe closed the doors, jumped into the front seat, put his foot down and drove away like the hounds of hell were chasing us.
I turned to Hayley. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?”
She gave me a wobbly smile. “Yeah.” She laughed. “They’ll be so disappointed when they find out I’m just your stylist.”
I leaned in, brushed a kiss to her cheek. “You’re more than my stylist…”
And it was true. I felt a connection with her I’d never felt with all the women I’d been with, the countless hookups who’d just wanted a dirty fuck.
“I can’t be more than your stylist,” she whispered.
“Why the hell not? We get on great together, don’t we?” I couldn’t keep the disappointment from my tone.
Her gaze was steady. “I’m not girlfriend material. Just like you’re not boyfriend material.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I’ve never seen you with the same girl more than once. I don’t want to be just a notch on your bed post.”
“I can change my ways.”
She shook her head. “It wouldn’t work. I can’t give you what you clearly need.”
“I don’t get it.”
Her gaze ping ponged as she avoided direct eye contact. “Erm, I…”
She opened and closed her mouth, plainly struggling to find the right words.
“C’mon. Spit it out,” I said.
“I… I have a condition known as Vaginismus.” Her cheeks flamed. “I can’t have sex.”
To say I was gobsmacked would be an understatement. I hesitated then said, “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It means….” She took in a deep breath, then exhaled. “It means penetration is impossible because my entrance muscle is so tight.” Her blush deepened.
I edged closer. “You’ve never had sex?!”
She shook her head. “The one time I tried, my then boyfriend said it was like ‘hitting a wall’ at my opening.”
At last, her eyes met mine. I put my arm around her, held her close.
“Is there a treatment?”
Her chin dipped downward. “My doctor recommended seeing a sex therapist.”
“And did you?”
I felt her body stiffen. “No. My boyfriend had dumped me and it’s something you need to do with a partner.”
I had so many questions, but now was not the time. Joe had already taken the road up into the Hills and we were nearly home. I kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her citrus shampoo. “Let’s chill by the pool for the rest of the afternoon,” I suggested. “And you can tell me more, if you like?”
She nodded. Once.
Warmth radiated through me. Prospects for the future were unexpectedly looking brighter. I liked a challenge. Hayley Wilson needed fixing. Fixing her would keep my mind off the fact that I was more broken than she’d ever be…and in far greater need of being fixed myself.
Chapter 11
Hayley
As soon as we’d gotten home from Santa Monica, I went up to my room. If I hadn’t needed to keep an eye on Pierce, I’d have stayed up here until my embarrassment had lessened. “What have I done?” I muttered under my breath, deeply mortified that I’d revealed my condition to him, worried about how it would affect our friendship. I changed into my tankini, and, cringing at how candid I’d been, wrapped a towel around myself and made my way down to the decking.
Pierce was already in the pool, swimming lengths at a steady pace. My belly fluttered at the sight of him…his male beauty. I stared at his broad shoulders covered in tribal tats, his wide forehead and stubbled jaw. It was enough to make me O-face…if I did that kind of thing. I forced myself to look away, spread my towel on a sunlounger, and lay down.
Tiredness invaded my bones. I closed my eyes. Maybe if I fell asleep, I could put off the inevitable?
I was out of luck.
“Hey, Yankee Girl!” His London accent echoed in my ears.
I blinked my eyes open to catch him peering down at me.
He pulled up a chair and parked his butt. “Let’s talk…”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I couldn’t help snapping. “I’m a freak.”
He raised his palms. “Whoa! Why would you think that?”
“It’s what Ian, my ex, called me.”
Pierce bared his teeth. “He sounds like a wanker.”
“He was. A total wanker.” I laughed at the oh-so-British word.
“I did a little googling before I jumped in the pool. Found out as much as I could.” Pierce appeared hesitant. “I’d like to help you.”
“How?” I creased my brow.
“I know a lot about sex. Maybe your ex wasn’t doing it right?”
Pierce plainly didn’t get that ‘doing it right’ wouldn’t work.
I needed to put him off. Like REALLY put him off. “I can’t use tampons,” I blurted out, cringing again.
He didn’t bat an eyelid. “You’ve never touched yourself? Never climaxed?”
“Of course, I have. I’m not a nun,” My clit and I were on more than friendly terms, way more, but I kept that to myself.
A slow smile spread across his face. “Has a man ever gone down on you?”
“Jesus, Limey,” I bristled. “Enough with the third degree. I can’t see how my problem is any of your business…”
He jerked his head back. “You’re a good mate, and I always do everything I can to help my mates.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not letting your dick anywhere near me.”
“Who said anything about my dick?” He poked out his tongue. “There are other ways of loosening you up.” He waggled his brows.
“Asshole,” I swatted his chest. “Remember you told me you’d be bringing women back to your room when we’re on tour? You can get what you need from them.”
“It’s not about my needs, it’s about yours.” His tone had turned serious, and he held me in his gaze. “I said I wanted to help you, and I meant it.”
The su
dden sound of splashing alerted us to the fact that Joe had come down from his room and had jumped into the pool.
“I’ll go for another swim.” Pierce got to his feet. “Think about my offer. I won’t hold it against you if you decide not to accept.”
I lay back again, closing my eyes. Who’d have thought that Pierce Fox, the dirty rocker who thrashed his drums at every concert, animating a crowd of thousands to dance to his rhythm, would want to help ‘lil ‘ole me? Then I remembered how he’d hook up with a string of women while blind drunk after said concerts, and I let out a groan.
The following evening, I was in the kitchen slicing tomatoes. Axel and Phoenix were about to show up at any minute for a barbeque. Pierce had given Joe time off to visit with his family so it would just be us. I’d left Pierce out on the decking, setting up the charcoal grill.
To give credit where it was due, in the twenty-four hours or so since he’d offered to ‘help’ me, he hadn’t once pressed me for a decision. Last night, after dinner, we’d chilled in the living room playing video games and avoiding all discussion of the topic. Tenseness coiled in my stomach...I was missing out on something so fundamental to human existence most people took it for granted. I was tempted to let Pierce ‘help’, but also freaking scared his ‘helping’ would hurt me. I drew my brows together…I’d be stupid to risk it, and I might even lose my job.
I placed the tomatoes in a dish on the counter, next to the potato salad I’d made earlier. Normally, we ordered in and it was a nice change to be actually preparing a meal from scratch. The clock on the wall ticked forward to seven p.m., and then the doorbell rang. Phoenix and Axel had arrived.
“Wow, you’re looking amazing, Foxy.” Axel pulled him in for a man hug and slapped him on the back. “Hayley is obviously taking good care of you.”
