by Nicola Haken
“Daz?” I pressed, ignoring Matt as usual. Believe me, there’s a reason we call him Matt the Twat. But the guy plays drums like no other, and as far as I’m concerned that’s the only reason I haven’t kicked his ass into next year yet.
“We were never supposed to show up,” he explained, each word making my blood grow a little hotter. “They only wanted you, mate. Claire said you wouldn’t have turned up if you knew that.”
“Damn right I wouldn’t!” I yelled, balling my hand into a fist so tight my knuckles ached. “Devious bitch!”
“Chill out, mate,” Kip interrupted. Kip and I have been friends since primary school. His real name is Isaac but he earned the nickname ‘Kipper’ because he looked so similar to the kid in the Biff, Chip and Kipper books you’re forced to read as a child. Same blonde hair, red cheeks and crooked nose. I’ve known the guy for twenty years and he still looks the same, only bigger and with ninety percent of his body covered in ink. Out of all the guys, Kip and I are the closest. We started this band back in college with a couple of mates who went their own way before we hit it big. Daz, Matt and Gavin joined the team a year later, just as we were getting ready to throw in the towel. “It’s done now.”
“Yeah, well maybe I am too,” I spat. Matt rolled his eyes at me. Of course he knew I wasn’t serious, but fuck if this life isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.
“Well,” Kip continued. “She’ll be here in an hour so I suggest you go take a breather before she gets here.”
“Yeah,” Matt joined in. “Smoke a joint, take a shower and rub one off…”
“What’s she coming for?” I asked Kip, once again continuing as if Matt didn’t exist. Matt’s a nice enough guy don’t get me wrong, he’s just a huge fucking idiot with one of those faces it takes all your inner strength not to punch. “There’s nothing scheduled for today.”
“She’s bringing the new head of security to meet us all. He’s from Australia apparently.”
“I don’t give a fuck who he is as long as he can do his job properly.”
Billy had been our head of security for the past two years. He and I never saw eye to eye. He was lazy and incompetent and my point was proven when Gavin found a random groupie hiding in his bunk on the tour bus last month. It was Billy’s job to make sure that kinda shit didn’t happen, and so just ten minutes later he was given his marching orders.
Without saying another word I stomped off into the bedroom. I went straight to the mini bar and took out two miniature bottles of whiskey before downing them straight in quick succession. Once the burn in my throat had eased, the warmth of the alcohol travelled through my veins, settling me instantly. Next I practically threw myself onto the four-poster bed, rolled onto my back and silently cursed my life before drifting off to sleep.
“Saw!” I thought I heard the faint sound of my name but it wasn’t strong enough to make me open my eyes. “Yo, Sawyer!”
“Ugh,” I grumbled into my pillow. It was Matt calling me, and when that didn’t get a response he started knocking too.
“Sawyer, dude. Claire’s here.” And I should move, why? “Right, Saw I’m giving you five seconds before I’m coming in, so if you’re jerkin’ your junk you better put that shit away.”
“Fuck you, arsehole! Gimme two minutes.” And why the fuck are you all still in my suite?
“You got one!”
Seriously, was one fucking day off too much to ask for? Just one? Apparently so. Sighing, I dragged my weary ass out of bed and rubbed my eyes. Then I headed out to meet the guys and our new head of security. I walked into the room with a disinterested look on my face, purposely refusing eye-contact with Claire because I’m an immature twat like that.
“Sawyer,” Claire began. “I’ve already introduced the other guys, well except Isaac because he’s, um, entertaining in his room, and now I’d like you to meet our new head of security.” Out of courtesy, and because it wasn’t the new guy’s fault I was pissed off with Claire, I raised my head and looked over to where he sat. My eyes began at his feet, and then travelled up his body…
And then they met his face.
My chest tightened and all traces of moisture evaporated from my mouth– in surprise, panic or regret I’ll probably never know.
“Long time no see, Sawyer.”
Jake.
Jake Reed.
Jake Reed, my ex-best friend. A friend I’d shared everything with growing up and a friend I’d pushed away saying I never wanted to see again. Now he was here, right in front of me, dressed impeccably in a sharp black suit with enough buttons undone on his white shirt to show the world he was ripped, and the only thing I could remember about him was the way his lips felt on mine.
I’m fucking screwed.
Chapter Two
Sawyer Antony Knight. It’d been ten years since I last saw him, in the flesh at least, and yet he still managed to take my breath away.
“What are you doing here?” he asked me, sounding almost pissed off.
“I’m your new head of security.”
“I know that. But why are you here? You moved away.”
“I came back,” I stated simply, shrugging nonchalantly. He was unsettled and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me the hell on knowing I had that affect on him. My dick swelled, straining against the restrictive fabric of my pants, the second my eyes landed on Sawyer’s body. It was unexpected, but not necessarily a surprise. I didn’t come here to win him as my lover, but the man sitting in front of me had plagued my every conscious thought since the day he left me outside the bus station ten years ago, so the physical response I was experiencing was only natural.
I accepted this job because it’s an amazing opportunity. After spending my entire adulthood working for my father’s security firm, this is the kind of end-goal some people can only dream of. I get to travel the world, front what - on paper - sounds like an impressive team, and of course the money is off the fucking charts. But most of all, I’m good at what I do. I’m the best. Sawyer Knight has always deserved the best, and if he won’t let me take care of his heart, I will at least make sure I protect his life.
My father’s company expanded into personal security and bodyguard services about five years ago. I quickly worked my way up the top – not because I’m his son, but like I said, because I’m the best. For the past two years I have been in charge of protecting one of Australia’s top soap opera stars, Chad Willis. I was all set for accompanying him to LA after he landed himself the leading role in Quentin Tarantino’s latest movie… but then I heard about this job and neither my mind or my heart could turn it down.
I found out during my first meeting with the band’s manager, Philip Sinclair, that they have been receiving death threats, aimed mainly at Sawyer. As far as I’m aware the band haven’t been informed about this issue yet, and for now at least, I agree there is no point. They are no doubt from some deranged fan with too much time on their hands. This series of threats is likely not the first the band has received and I’m certain it won’t be the last. It’s part of the package when you’re in the public eye – people hate you as much as others adore you.
“Wait... are you…” Ah, Isaac. He walked into the suite with one arm wrapped around some tits on a stick, pointing at me in recognition. “You went to school with me and Saw, right?”
“Right,” I answered, forcing a smile. I didn’t like him back then and from what I’d seen of him in interviews, I don’t like him now. He’s cocky and arrogant and has seemed to believe from being only thirteen years old that he was put on this earth purely to service the female population. “Jake,” I offered. He scratched his head as if searching for the memory of my name, but in order to remember it he’d have had to have known it in the first place. Back in school, he hung around with Sawyer a lot, but wouldn’t give me the time of day.
“Jake! Of course!” he beamed as if he suddenly remembered. He was a lying shit. “How’ve you been, mate?” he asked, practically tossing the stic
k woman aside to come and shake my hand.
“Good,” I answered curtly. “Great to be back on home soil,” I added with a smile when I realised I was behaving like a jerk.
“So is there anything else, Claire? Only I’ve got some, um, business to attend to,” Isaac said, tossing a suggestive and slightly nauseating look towards Tits on a Stick.
“No, Kip. That’s all,” she replied, rolling her eyes. Kip? “I just wanted you all to meet Jake.” Without needing a second word of encouragement Isaac, or Kip, had disappeared with his piece of pussy. From the way he looked at her it was obvious she was a ‘one night’ thing. I’d be surprised if he even knew her name. “Okay, guys, well that’s all for tonight. We’ll meet before rehearsals tomorrow to discuss the new plans Jake is proposing.”
“What kind of new plans?” Sawyer asked dubiously. His voice danced into my ears and spread to my veins, warming my whole body.
“I think we, meaning your security team, need a little more structure,” I began. “A designated guard for each band member, a new system for…”
“I’m happy with how things are,” Sawyer cut me off. I had to bite the inside of my lip to stop me from grinning. He was being purposefully awkward and I couldn’t help find it amusing. I was affecting him, and I liked it.
“Well we’ll discuss it further in the morning,” Claire interrupted. “Jake has had a long few days spent travelling, I’m sure he’d like to get to his room and rest.”
“I feel fine. In fact, if you want me to stay behind and explain things a bit more, Sawyer, that’s no problem.”
Please say yes.
“Nah, mate. I’ll wait till the morning like the others.”
Fuck.
“Well how about we just have a drink? Catch up on the old times?”
Sawyer’s hazel eyes narrowed as my question swirled around his mind. His expression screamed unease, doubt… maybe even fear.
“Sure. Sounds good,” he said flatly, refusing to give me just a hint of how he was truly feeling through his tone. “That means the rest of you can fuck off to your own suites. I don’t get why you’ve been hanging round here all day anyway.”
“Yours is the biggest,” Matt – who according to the press, the other guys call ‘Matt the Twat – chipped in. “Therefore you have a bigger minibar.”
“What the fuck ever,” Sawyer said, shooing him off with his hand. “You want more liquor you call room service. No need to hover round my ass all day.”
“What the hell is wrong with you today, man? You get your period or somethin’?”
“Fuck you, Matt.”
“Is this still about the interview? It’s over, dude. Forget about it.”
“You’re still here.”
“Fine. Whatever. Come on, guys.” The other two, Darren and Gavin, got up to follow Matt out of the room. “Hey, Jake… when he starts to piss you off, there’ll be beer in my room!” Matt called back to me. I raised my palm in acknowledgement, even though I had no intention of taking him up on his unappealing offer. And then there were three…
“I’ll get going too,” Claire said, standing from her chair and smoothing her skirt with flattened hands. “And Sawyer, snap out of this mood you’ve gotten yourself into. It was one interview, and you know how important these things are for publicity. It’s part of the deal. Don’t let it ruin rehearsals tomorrow.”
“Sure,” he said, sounding sincere. “Sorry I’ve been such a jackass. I’ve had a headache all day, I guess that made things worse.”
“Get an early night in that case. We’ve only got two days before the first show, and we have a lot to get through before then. Oh and Philip will be joining the meeting in the morning too, so don’t be late.”
“Wow. How nice of him,” Sawyer spat sarcastically. “I’m honoured.”
Claire had opened the door and was hovering in the open space. With her hand on the doorknob, she drew in a deep breath through her nose before squinting her eyes and opening her mouth. “There’s another interview tomorrow with all five of you. Don’t lose your shit.” Then she was gone, with the door closed firmly behind her before Sawyer could even open his mouth to respond.
“Bitch,” I heard him mutter under his breath. Then he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath through his nose. He stayed in that position, relaxed into his chair, legs apart, head back, for a couple of minutes. I just stared at him – devouring the image of him and committing it to memory. My eyes honed in on his strong neck and I absently licked my lips as I watched the thick vein there throb in rhythm with his heart. God, how I wanted to lick that vein. How I wanted to taste his salty skin, inhale the sweet scent of him, feel his pulse against my lips…
“So you don’t like interviews?” I broke the silence, needing to hear his deep, gravelled voice.
“Why are you really here, Jake?” he asked, sounding exasperated, and maybe confused, as he finally made eye contact with me. “After the way we left things…”
“We were just kids then, Sawyer. I’m sure we’re both mature enough to move on from that.”
“But you moved so far away – the other side of the world. Why did you come back? Leave your family? Your friends?”
“I came back because this is an amazing opportunity. And… because I’ve missed you.” His brow furrowed and tiny sparks of panic literally flickered in his eyes. “We were best friends for a long time, Sawyer. I missed being that close to someone. I missed the fun we used to have. Because we did, remember?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, smiling fondly. “Remember that time we filled Dennis Lawson’s locker with dog shit?”
“Oh yeah! Fuck, we were evil little shits.”
“Nah. The prick deserved it. That kid was so full of himself you’d think he shit diamonds or something.” I nodded, smiling at the memory. “Drink?”
“Sure,” I agreed, loosening my tie. Sawyer stood up and strolled towards the minibar. His jeans were so tight I could see every flex of his arse with each step. He was good looking back in high school, but now… now he’s beautiful.
Conversation was a little awkward at first. We stuck to ‘safe’ topics, talking about our childhood and everything leading up to – but not including - the last time we saw each other. Soon enough, the rich whiskey started taking effect, visibly relaxing him. Three shots in and I saw a genuine smile… not a forced one he’d only put on for my benefit. The curve of his lips illuminated his entire face, making his caramel eyes sparkle under the wisp of dark brown hair that couldn’t seem to keep itself from falling over his face.
“So, how are your parents?” I asked casually in an effort to keep the conversation flowing. I didn’t want this night to end.
“Jerry fucked off a few years back. He was our first manager before we got signed, got us a few gigs here and there… but then I found out he’d been knocking my mum around, so after beating the living shit out of him, I told him he either disappeared or I’d call the cops.”
“Jesus,” I barely whispered, shaking my head at the image he’d put in my mind. “How’s your mum now?”
“Good, last time I heard.”
“You don’t see her?”
“Not often. She doesn’t exactly approve of my lifestyle. Got to do what’s right by her church buddies, ya know.”
“Wow. Sorry, mate.” Sawyer shrugged casually, feigning indifference. His eyes told a different story though. Evident discomfort forced his eyebrows together slightly and when he blinked, it took his eyes a couple of seconds longer than necessary to open again. “So who do you go to when you need to escape all this shit?” I asked, motioning my hands around the opulence surrounding us.
“Elle,” he said simply. Just the sound of her name tugged on the corners of his lips, making him smile.
“Maths girl?” I already knew the answer. The whole world knows about Elle Wilson – best friend and possible secret girlfriend of the hottest singer this decade has ever seen.
“Yeah,” he agreed, still smiling as he
nodded. “After you… left,” he started to explain, the word ‘left’ cracking on his lips. “I spent more and more time with her. She helped me with my maths, gave me her old papers to study, that kind of shit. I still fucking failed,” he added with yet another smile. I liked Elle already. So far, she’s the only person who seems to make Sawyer happy. “But seriously, she’s the only person who’s ever been there for me. If it weren’t for her… I don’t think I’d have survived this life very long.”
Wow.
“Sounds lonely,” I said, picking my glass up from the table and taking another sip of whiskey. The burn ceased after the second glass, and so now, four glasses in, the rich liquid trickled smoothly down my throat like silk. “Are you lonely, Sawyer?”
His eyes widened just slightly and he stuttered on his response. I stared intently into his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of his soul hiding behind them. I could almost see the debate taking place in his mind – whether to be honest with me, or lie.
“No. Course not.” He went for the option of lying. “I’m surrounded by people every day.”
“But they don’t know you,” I stated cautiously, the end of my sentence coming out slightly higher as if it were a question. “Not the real you.”
“How the fuck would you know? You don’t know me,” he spat. The anger in his voice halted the rhythm of my heart for a brief second while I considered what I was doing. I should back off. I should be professional and keep a safe personal distance. I should apologise for riling him.
But I knew immediately I wasn’t going to do any of those things. Despite what he might think right now, I do know Sawyer Knight – the real one. I grew up with him, I loved him… I still love him. We might have spent the last ten years apart but I’ve never stopped following him. I’ve watched his career go from strength to strength. I’ve studied him in interviews, TV appearances and even went to watch him play when the band’s last tour landed in Australia. Each time I watched him I was drawn to his eyes, and not once had I ever seen the sparkle in them that I used to fantasise over as a teenager. He never smiles – not genuinely. He never talks about his private life. Never discusses himself unless prompted, and even then the discomfort is evident by the slight squirm of his body.
