by Vivian Wood
Nevertheless, she must not disappoint her confusing, moody, rock star. With a sigh she grabbed one of her smaller bags and packed quicker than she ever had before.
Rhys was waiting in the Range Rover, talking on the phone. As soon as she slid into the car, he ended the call and pulled out of the garage once more.
He turned the music up loud and barely slowed down to allow the cameramen to clear the drive before slamming his foot on the pedal and screeching away, leaving his house and the cameras and everything else behind. His jaw was set, mouth in a tight line as he sped to wherever they were going.
Once they were on the Pacific Coast Highway, he seemed to start to relax. His mouth was softer, and his shoulders weren't as tense. He hadn't slowed down, turned the music down or told her where they were going, but the farther away they got from the house, the more the tension seemed to seep out him. They'd been driving for a while when he rolled down his window, put his arm out the window and let the air slide around his hand, diving it up and down like one does making dolphins with your hand for a child.
Eventually, he turned down the music and shot a glance at her.
“I’m sorry, Serena. I had no right to take any of this out on you. Anders just drives me up the fucking wall sometimes, you know? And what he said about you… Let’s just say it made me want to go back to when we used to settle things differently than how we do now.”
“And you had to get away not to?”
“Yup. But it’s not just that. These past few months have been intense. Need a couple of days to clear my head. Away.”
“You know, if you need to clear your head, you can just drop me at Mary’s for a few days?” A small part of her withered as she made the offer. She didn't want to leave him for a few days again, not when things were finally starting to feel real between them and especially not after how they'd spent the last few days tangled up in each other, but he seemed like he desperately needed some space to ”clear his head” as he had put it.
His face fell. “You don’t want to come with me?” His voice was hard as steel.
“No! No, Rhys, of course I do. God, you have no idea how much. It’s just that I get that you need space, and I’m trying to give you the option to have it. I know that you might have thought that I don’t have anywhere to go, and that why you…”
He cut her off with a soft chuckle. “I don’t need space from you princess, I need space for you. Away from all that bullshit back there. Don’t ever think that I don’t want you with me again, okay? I didn’t tell you to pack because I didn’t think you didn't have anywhere else to go. I think you know I’m not that much of a goddamn gentleman, I told you to pack because I want you with me.”
What now? He wanted her with him? “Well then, I’m with you.”
“Yeah you are,” he murmured softly.
Her heart stammered. He couldn’t mean it in that way, right? No use trying to lie to herself about it anymore though, she definitely wanted him to mean it that way. That she really was with him. His.
They were off the PCH now, at the beach. Rhys navigated twists and turns and they pulled up outside an exquisite house in an estate right on the beach as the sun started to set. Rhys shut off the car and slid out, opening her door before grabbing their bags and leading her up a short stone path to the front door. He dug for a set of keys, unlocked the door and led her inside.
She sucked in her breath in as she stepped inside into the main room with more floor to ceiling windows and an unencumbered view of a patio area, infinity pool and the ocean beyond it. The main room was open concept and had a dining area accompanied by a gourmet kitchen and bar.
He turned to the left, through a hallway that still offered unobstructed lawn and ocean views through its glass walls into a master suite that was big enough to fit Josh’s apartment several times over. He flipped on light switches as they walked, and she absolutely marveled in the splendor of the place.
The master bedroom had a huge, emperor-size bed with immaculate white bedding, a seating area with a flat screen television and a smaller seating area that was surrounded by records and CDs and three guitars sitting on their stands. Beyond that were the doors, still entirely glass, that led to a hot tub on the lawn outside and the beach and a spectacular view of the sun setting over the ocean.
She held her breath as she took in the view, feeling his arms sliding around her waist and pulling her close to him. “It’s something, huh?”
“Yeah. It might be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
“I agree,” he said firmly, but as she turned in the circle of his arms, he was staring at her.
“Aren’t you afraid of people passing and seeing in here, though? All this glass…”
“You can’t see in if the doors are closed. Anyway, this is the last house on the cul-de-sac and there’s hardly ever anyone on this part of the beach. Part of the reason I bought it.”
“This is yours?” she stammered.
“It is. And you’re officially its first guest. It’s my private hideaway. The guys don’t even know about it yet. Transfer came through while we were on tour. It has a recording studio on the other side, though. So they’ll find out about it soon enough.”
“Up for the grand tour?”
She slid her hand into his, kissing him chastely. “Hell yes!”
He led her through the house and showed her the gym, wine cellar, four other bedrooms and the recording studio before leading her back to the kitchen in the center.
Her head was spinning at the place. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before!
“Really? You like it that much?”
“Did I say that out loud?” she groaned, feeling the heat spread to the tips of her ears.
“You did.” He smirked, but then tipped her face up toward his and kissed her deeply. All thoughts of the splendor were immediately erased by the touch of his lips on hers, the taste of him, the way he moved his hips against hers, his hand cupping her cheek and the other on her neck…
And then her stomach grumbled. Loudly. He broke the kiss with a nip to her lower lip and smiled.
“Well, seems you’re hungry for something other than me… first. And here I was thinking that all you needed was a steady diet of me.” He arched his eyebrows at her with a naughty smile, doing a little dance while teasing his shirt up over those incredible abs, exposing that perfect, lickable V… Yes, I must lick that tonight! she thought.
He cleared his throat and she instantly realized that she'd been staring. “Could your ego be any bigger?” She rolled her eyes at him.
“Yes. But I don’t think my ego was what you were thinking about right then, and I’ve never had any complaints about size there. In fact, I remember a certain girlfriend of mine telling me just a few days ago how big that is.”
Girlfriend! He’d called her his girlfriend! She could do a happy dance, jump up and click her heels, but they had joked around with the boyfriend/ girlfriend thing before so he may still have meant it that way, as a joke. Must not get her hopes up.
Instead, she walked toward him, giving him her best seductive look and slid one strap of her dress down slowly as she came to a stop in front of him. Already, his mouth had opened just a bit and he sucked in a small breath as she moved toward him.
“You know, my memory might need some refreshing. Care to remind me just how huge what is?”
His eyes were dark with lust and he was breathing faster now, pulling her toward him again, grinding his hips into her and she could feel his erection pressing into her stomach as he pulled her into a kiss.
It lasted only a second before he groaned and pulled away, though. “I think what you just felt against your stomach is going to have to be your reminder until we get some food into you.”
“You want to order in?” she asked.
“Nah, asked the housekeeper to stock the fridge for us this afternoon. I intend on keeping you right here, to myself, for as long as humanly possible. Let’s see what we
have.”
His eyes lit up. “How about breakfast?”
“For supper?”
“Why not? Eggs and bacon taste great any time of day,” he quipped as he collected the ingredients from the fridge.
“You had me at bacon, baby.”
“Baby?” He raised his eyebrows and then smiled. His face broke out into the happiest grin she'd seen him wear in, well, maybe ever. “I’ve considered it, and I like it!”
“Really?” She hadn’t even really meant it that way, but if he liked it that much, maybe he liked her, too… Hope surged in her. Until the familiar self-doubt settled in. “You didn’t consider it for very long, maybe?” He silenced her with a kiss that smacked when he released her lips. Was he being playful? His eyes and mouth were still smiling.
“No maybes, I’m baby from now on. No backsies.” He stuck his pierced tongue out at her just a little before he started layering the bacon in a pan, whistling to himself.
Well, well. She'd seen a little bit of this side of him the last few days in Hollywood, but staring at him now, he was lighter and brighter than the sun, dancing around the kitchen. He’d even kicked off his sneakers and pulled off his shirt.
The hard lines of his muscular body entranced her immediately. Add in his carefree, relaxed attitude and the smile on his face… Please excuse her while she melted into a puddle and tried to re-form…
“Ouch!” His yelp snapped her out of her puddle-like state. He rubbed a spot just above his belly button.
“For the record, frying bacon shirtless is not the smartest idea I’ve ever had!” He was still smiling, laughing a little as he tipped the bacon into a waiting plate, popped out toast she hadn’t realized had gone into the toaster and cracked four eggs into the waiting pan.
“Do me a favor, will you, butter the toast please.”
“Okay.” More watching him than thinking about what she was doing, she took the pieces of toast in her hands and started cooling them, waving them back and forth like a flag at a raceway.
“What are you doing?” he asked, clearly amused by her movements.
She felt herself turning beet red before answering him dead on. “This is how toast should be eaten,” she informed him. “Cooled before it’s buttered so that it’s still crunchy.”
“And you questioned me about having breakfast for supper, yet here you are waving toast around.” He chuckled, shaking his head but turning his attention back to the frying eggs.
Once she deemed the toast cool enough, she buttered it just in time for him to slide the eggs onto them. They dished up some bacon and she followed him to the dining area.
They were mostly quiet while they ate, both ravenous after the long day they'd had and having had nothing but a few pieces of fruit for breakfast.
After dinner, she took their plates and the other dishes to dishwasher and loaded it, as had become their routine.
“Up for a movie?” he asked when she returned, already settled on the couch flicking through titles.
“Sure.” She curled up under his arm and he instinctively pulled her into his side. His movements were so easy here, it warmed her heart and her body all the way down to her toes.
One of the titles reminded her of something he had said to Anders earlier, about the home and needing therapy.
The warm feeling from seconds earlier was replaced by uneasiness in her stomach.
“Hey, Rhys.” He kissed the top of her head absentmindedly before fixing his eyes on her. “I was just thinking about something you said to Anders earlier, about the home being tough on you and him.”
He sat up like she'd burned him. Relaxed, easygoing Rhys was gone in a second flat.
“What about it?” he asked darkly. “So, we grew up in a home. A few homes, actually. So go ahead, sneer at me, pity us. We fucking made it out!” he practically spat at her.
She recoiled for a second at his unexpected reaction, but then she held his gaze with hers, taking a deep breath before continuing. “It’s not like that, Rhys. That not why I asked. I would never sneer at you! I just wanted to know if you wanted to talk. It seemed like you needed someone to talk to after we left. I’m not going to pretend like I know what you went through growing up in a home, but I can listen. I’m a really good listener.”
He looked at her with guarded eyes, as though searching her face for traces of the judgment he’d clearly become accustomed to expect when people found out about his childhood. Apparently satisfied with her intentions, he relaxed, took her hands, kissed her gently and then turned toward her.
He took a deep steadying breath, seemingly immersed in memories. “Anders and I, I told you when we met that I’d lived in places that would make your friend’s place look like a palace. We grew up in the foster system. Bouncing from one place to the next. It was hard to find places that would take two brothers, keep us together, especially when we were being little shits. We started getting into fights when we were practically still in diapers and it only got worse from there. It was bad for me, but Anders…” His voice trailed off, the pain raw and apparent when he continued.
“When we were about fourteen, he started hanging out with kids who we all knew were seriously into drugs. Fuck. It’s not like we were saints before then, we’d smoked a little weed and some other stuff, but it wasn’t a regular thing. I knew something was up with him. We’d moved to a new foster home a couple of months before, but he refused to talk to me. Insisted he was fine. Until one day he got himself so beat up that he was raced to the hospital. He broke down while he was high on pain meds. I’ll spare you the details… It turns out he was being abused. Some really fucked up shit. That’s where we met Dr. Kent. Changed everything for us.”
Wait. Realization dawned on her softly. “Dr. Kent from the charity gala?”
“One and the same. He saved us. Found us a place to live in one of the agency’s homes, with music teachers as our foster parents. We never told them, but I think they kinda knew. Got us playing instruments, I took to the guitar immediately and Anders got into the controlled chaos and noise of the drums. I think it drowns the noise in his head. We met Milo at our new school. Eventually we met Jett and Luc as you know, and the rest, as they say, is history.”
His eyes were glistening as she pulled him into a hug and climbed into his lap. “Fuck,” he breathed into her ear. “I’ve never told anyone that story. Not even the boys know all the details. Milo knows more than the others, but not everything.”
They sat like that for what seemed like an eternity before she started with her story.
“Like you said, you got out. And look at what you’ve fucking achieved! You are the most incredibly strong person I’ve ever met, Rhys.” She looked into his gorgeous eyes, wide and honest and it clicked. She was truly, madly, crazy deeply in love with this man. Her heart stuttered to a stop as she realized this and she melted into his strong, safe arms. No way could she tell him though, and he was looking at her curiously.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just thinking about how strong you are, what you must have gone through. And what you made of it, I mean look at your life… At what you’ve achieved. You literally take my breath away, Rhys. I don’t mean the fact that you’re famous and everything. I mean that you’re who you are.”
She drank him in with her eyes, still in his lap, strong arms wrapped around her as he pressed his ear to her heart, his eyes closed.
“My life was kind of the complete opposite,” she began, not really knowing why she was telling him this but feeling like she needed to give him a piece of her soul in return for what he’d just told her.
“My parents controlled my life pretty much – no, exactly - until the day I accidentally found you on that balcony. What I did, what I ate, where I lived. College was never an option for me. My dad gave me a junior assistant position in his company as soon as I graduated high school so that my mom could keep me close, select a husband for me that my dad could groom to take over his company someday, told me wh
en and what I could eat, the music that was appropriate to listen to… You name it, they made the decision for me. To be honest, I hadn’t even heard of Misery more than your name mentioned on the radio before the night that we met at the Misery Party Mansion.”
“Misery party mansion?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Well, I’ve only been there that one time, so I just kind of assumed…” she trailed off.
“Nah, the company rented it for all of us, Jett, Luc and Milo still live there. Anders and I moved out as soon as we’d made enough money to buy our places. We’ve had enough of totally communal living. Couldn’t wait to have places to ourselves. But then it was so quiet. I couldn’t stand the quiet after the first few hours, so I kinda moved back until you called and asked if a place to stay was part of the deal.” He played with a tendril of her hair and tucked it behind her ears almost reverently.
“Wait, I met you at the Misery ‘Party Mansion’ about a week after the charity event where we launched the video. How did you go from being your mom’s puppet to living with your friend and walking into people at the Misery party?”
Her face scrunched at the not-so-distant memory. “Well, I told you that night that I’d had a fight with my parents, do you remember?”
His eyes twinkled. “Of course I remember Serena, I remember every minute we’ve had together.” He cupped her face in his hand. “Still doesn’t explain how it happened.”
She took a breath and let it go slowly through her teeth. Here came the Bryan part.
“That night after the charity gala, I took a cab to my fiancé’s apartment.” He stiffened and his eyes hardened, the hands that had been stroking her back stilled.
“Fiancé?”
“Ex-fiancé. Hear me out,” she said in the most soothing voice she could muster.
“I had a headache, so I ducked out early. Once I was in the cab I realized my parents would be at the gala for hours still, Bryan had told me he’d be working late, so I figured I’d surprise him at his apartment.” She left out why she had been so eager to go to his apartment, Rhys already knew that he had taken her virginity and it seemed unnecessary to burden him with the details now.
