by Amiee Louise
“See you Friday, Mum, love you.”
“Love you, Peyton, bye.”
I hang up the phone and Sam raises his eyebrows at me.
“Trying to trash the kitchen?”
He leaps athletically over the sofa and grabs me around the waist. He tickles me, and I scream, kicking my legs as he holds me with ease.
“I say we order Chinese and curl up on the sofa?”
He shakes his head. “Or we could go back to mine, snuggle up on my sofa, and order Chinese. Plus, now I owe you a tour of my bedroom.” He winks and puts my feet firmly back on the ground.
“OK, that sounds like a plan.”
I smile and walk to Ruby’s bedroom, tapping the door gently.
“Ruby, it’s me.” I hear her sniff.
“Hey, babe, come in.”
I open the door and walk into her bedroom. She looks up from her Kindle Fire and takes off her glasses as I sit on the edge of the bed.
“How are you feeling, babe?”
She nods. “Better, thanks. I’ve got painkillers, a hot water bottle, and Jesse Ward. That’s all I need, babe!”
I smile. The colour has returned to her cheeks, and she looks almost back to her normal self, at least from the outside.
“Are you sure?”
She looks at me with a pointed stare. “Yeah, I’m fine, babe, honestly. Stop worrying. I’ll be fine, I always am.”
I smile, but something in the way she looks at me tells me that she’s not being entirely honest with me.
“If you’re sure? You know how I worry about you, babe.”
She rolls her eyes and puts her hand on top of mine. “You worry too much. I’m OK, honestly. Anyway, it’s not me I’m worried about, you two sounded like you were enjoying yourselves!”
We both burst into a fit of giggles.
“Ruby, he is … amazing.” I sigh, collapsing back on Ruby’s bed as we lie next to each other. She widens her eyes.
“Is he … Fuck it. Is his cock big?”
I am embarrassed at Ruby’s question, and then I nod. She giggles like a schoolgirl.
“Huge.”
I put my hand to my open mouth, and we both laugh hysterically.
“I was just coming to tell you: I’m going back to Sam’s place for a while.”
She nods. “That’s fine, babe. You don’t have to check in with me, you know.”
Despite her insistence, I know that she hates being on her own.
“I can stay if you want? You know how much I worry, and I know you don’t like being here on your own.”
“I’ll be fine, babe. Honestly, if I get lonely, I’ll call Jax.” She winks.
Sitting up, she gives me a hug, and I say, “I’ll see you later or tomorrow if I decide to stay over. I’ll call you or text you.”
She kisses me on the cheek. “Love you, Peyton.”
Getting up from the bed, I cross to the door before turning to blow her a kiss. “Love ya, Rubes.”
I close her bedroom door behind me and find that Sam is fully dressed in the living room. He has his hands in his pockets, and he looks gorgeously awkward standing in my flat.
“I’m just going to pack an overnight bag.”
He smiles and winks at me. “Good thinking, babe.”
I grab my Ed Hardy overnight bag and stuff in my pyjamas, knowing that I won’t need them if Sam has anything to do with it! I grab a change of clothes for work tomorrow, spare underwear, my make-up bag, and my hairbrush, then zip up the bag and take it out into the flat. I rush to the bathroom to grab my electric toothbrush and then I am ready to leave. As I pull on my denim jacket, Sam picks up my bag.
“Bye, Ruby,” I call.
Sam and I leave the flat and go down the stairs to the underground garage where he stops.
“I was going to call, Cole. I told him to go back home because I wasn’t sure how long I’d be.”
I raise my eyebrows. “We’re going in my car; I am quite capable of driving. We don’t all have personal chauffeurs.”
“Touché!” His eyes widen when he catches sight of my car, whistling low. “Nice wheels, babe.”
“I think so; she is my pride and joy.”
He puts his arm around my waist, and tells me, “Don’t say that too often. I might get jealous!”
We both laugh as I unlock the door. I climb into the driver seat; Sam opens the passenger door and throws my overnight bag in the backseat. He gets in, and we both fasten our seatbelts. Then I start up the car, and we pull out into the night.
13
Peyton
Half an hour later, we pull into Sam’s parking garage at his apartment in Greenwich near to London’s East Docklands. There are at least ten sports cars and at least ten superbikes parked in Sam’s section. The cars range from Aston Martins and Bugatti Veyrons to Porsches and Mercedes. The superbikes range from Ducatis and Kawasakis to custom Harley Davidsons; it would definitely be a petrol head’s wet dream! We both step into the waiting lift; he presses the button for his place, and when the doors slide shut, he backs me into the corner. He claims my mouth once again, and I melt into his arms. He holds me protectively to him as his tall frame towers over me.
“I owe you another orgasm!” he breathes seductively into my mouth, and I grin.
The lift comes to a halt, and we step out into the foyer. Cole is walking around without his hat and his tie on. He looks comfortable and at home. He greets me with a nod, and I start to wonder if he lives in the same building as Sam. I have so many questions I want to ask, but I keep them to myself for the time being. Sam unlocks and opens the large black oak door, and I am again struck dumb by the view looking across the city. I can see right across the city from Sam’s window, and it looks even more beautiful at night. Sam puts my bag down and kicks off his shoes.
“Make yourself at home, babe, I want you to be just as comfortable here as you are at home. This is my sanctuary; somewhere I’m not disturbed, where I can be myself, just ordinary, regular Sam.”
I smile and kick off my shoes too. He smiles back.
“Do you want some coffee or something stronger?”
I look at him. “Something stronger would be great, thanks, babe.”
He goes off into the kitchen, and I follow him, taking in my surroundings. His place is spectacular. I am taken aback as I follow him to his kitchen. It is huge and twice the size of my flat. The kitchen is all chrome, black and white, in clean accented tones. The worktop is black marble with a kitchen island in the centre with black lacquer stools around it. The cupboards are black, and the kitchen has the same view as his living room with floor to ceiling windows at the far end. There is a large glass dining table by the window with four high-backed, gothic chairs around it.
“You look stunned every time you step into another room here; it’s adorable to see your face light up!” Sam says with a laugh.
I lean against the kitchen island and watch him as he opens his large silver fridge. There is a selection of pictures adorning the fridge, from pictures of his band, band magnets, and pictures of what looks like his family. I move closer to the fridge and take a closer look as he opens it. He takes out a bottle of white wine.
“Is white wine OK for you, babe?”
I nod as I carry on examining the pictures.
“Is that The Lightning Bolts?”
I point towards the picture of the massive seventies rock band. I remember my mum and dad talking about them and listening to their music when I was a kid. They were a big deal back in the seventies, the Green Day of their era, rock mixed with a bit of Sex Pistols-inspired punk. Sam opens the wine and takes out two glasses.
“You’re familiar with them, huh?”
I nod, and he smiles.
“Yeah my mum and dad used to play their music to get me to sleep; their music was always playing when I was growing up. They were huge fans back in the day.” He pours the wine in the glasses as he continues, “The drummer, Marlowe, he’s my dad.”
I lo
ok at him with wide eyes and examine the picture more closely.
“Wow, your dad was a drummer, that’s incredible. No wonder you became a rocker.”
He smiles and hands me a glass. I take it from him with a quick, “Thanks.”
I take a sip, feeling the cold liquid slide down my throat and warm my stomach.
“Me, my older brother, and older sister went on tour a couple of times with him when we were younger. It always fascinated me seeing him perform, the atmosphere, the way his fans adored him. I grew up around the music industry, it’s in my blood. My dad and his bandmates are my heroes; they influenced our earlier stuff.”
I smile at his enthusiasm. He hops up gracefully and sits on the worktop. I am standing opposite him leaning against the kitchen island, regarding him intently.
“My dad always took it in his stride. He never let the fame go to his head, and he always told me to follow my dreams, that he’d support me no matter what if I wanted to pick music as a career. I was rubbish in school at everything except music; it was as if it … spoke to me in some way. I was in bands from an early age—my dad taught me drums and guitar, my mum made us take piano lessons—but I sang as well. I grew up with Jax; we lived next door to each other, and I went to school with Lucas and Brody. We were all best mates, more like brothers, really, and we decided we were going to form a band. We were called the Spunk Monkeys!”
I laugh at the name and listen attentively to his story, fascinated by hearing him tell me about his dad and how his band finally hit the big time.
“We rehearsed in my dad’s studio and in Jax’s garage; we did loads of free gigs for our mates, for the neighbours where we lived, for our school, for local clubs and pubs. It was so hard in the beginning, and I wanted to make it without the influence of my dad. But the truth is, I would never have made it without him. Jed Dalton was The Lightning Bolt’s manager, but he passed away ten years ago. J.D inherited the record company at the age of twenty-seven, and he was looking to sign a new band to give his flailing record label a boost. My dad told him that I was in a band and it went from there. I was twenty, and I was going to be in a famous rock band.”
He shakes his head at the thought as if he can’t believe it happened and looks at me.
“So, that’s how we made it. It was like a whirlwind: we went from just regular young guys to full-blown rock stars. It was completely mental.”
He gets down from the worktop and walks over to me, kissing my forehead and grabbing my hand.
“Let’s go and chill on the sofa. I want to just forget being me for a while and enjoy being with you.”
I melt at his sweet words, as he grabs the bottle of wine from the worktop and leads me into the living room. He sits down on the sofa and pats the space beside him. His mobile starts ringing, but he silences it and rejects the call, which I find odd, but I keep my mouth firmly shut.
“Come and sit down, babe, make yourself comfortable.”
I sit down next to him, and we both tuck our legs up underneath ourselves at the same time. We get comfortable, and I take a long sip of my wine.
“So, what’s the deal with you and J.D?”
His pauses as he takes a sip of his wine and his smile fades. “You noticed the tension between us?”
I look at him and nod slowly, gauging his reaction.
“It’s kind of obvious, he keeps … threatening me.”
He clenches his teeth and balls his fist.
“I’ve warned him to stay the fuck away from you, baby. He won’t hurt you—he is all talk, and he hasn’t got the balls. If he even touches a hair on your head, I swear to God I will fucking kill him, you have my word.”
His demeanour changes as he speaks about J.D, but I don’t push him to tell me.
“When I was twenty, when he was signing us, we … we had sex.”
I almost choke on my wine. “What? You and J.D?”
I know my voice is a pitch higher than normal and he nods shamefully.
“That’s pretty fucked up, isn’t it? I fucked my manager to further my career; he told me that he had always liked me, being Marlowe Newbolt’s son. He was always at family gatherings with his dad Jed, and he was always ‘round at our house. We started to become friends; there’s only seven years between us. He and his dad were a calming presence in our family. But when he was signing us, the power went to his head, and he said he could either make us or break us as band depending on what … On what I could offer him.”
I scowl and shudder at the thought of Sam and J.D.
“Sam, you don’t have to tell me, baby.” I brush his arm reassuringly, and he shakes his head.
“No, it’s fine, I want to tell you the whole truth, I don’t want any secrets or lies between us. I want total honesty all the way, not after earlier, when you found out about Savannah and Callum… When I thought I had lost you for good. I thought I’d fucked up so bad, then you walked out. All I wanted to do was go after you, but Cole stopped me.”
“I just panicked, that’s all. All Callum ever did was lie to me. I couldn’t bear being in another relationship where my partner felt the need to lie to me.”
He puts his wine glass down on the table and takes my hand in his.
“I would never ever lie to you. I didn’t tell you about Sav and Callum because I knew how cut up you were about him. That first night when I took you for dinner, and you told me about what he did, I could see in your eyes how hurt you were just talking about it. I didn’t ever want to see that look in your eyes while you were with me, and I wanted to protect you.” He gently kisses the back of my hand. “Please understand that was the only reason I didn’t tell you. When I saw that photo of you and him together, I recognised him straight away, and I wanted to fucking kill him for doing that to you. The next day, I went ‘round to my sister’s house where he lives with her, and I was going to seriously hurt him if Sav hadn’t stopped me. I had my hands around his throat, I saw red, and I was so fucking angry.”
He clenches his fist at the thought, and I can see in his eyes how much he wants to protect me.
“I feel … protective of you, Peyton, you’re so fragile and so fucking beautiful, you take my breath away. Even the paps from the other day, I wanted to fucking hurt every single one of them for pointing a camera in your face. You’re in their radar now, and it’s all because of me, so it’s my duty to protect you.”
I see the passion in his eyes as he says those words and I snuggle closer to him. He wraps his arm around me, and I am encased in his warmth. I rest my head on his chest.
“Now, where were we? Oh yeah, J.D.”
I feel his whole body tense at the sound of his name.
“He said he could either make us or break us as band depending on what I could offer him. We were in his studio on the sofa; he put his arm around me and stroked my face, telling me he had always had a soft spot for me. Before I knew it, he was kissing me, and I was kissing him back because I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. He got up, pulled the blinds and locked the door; I was young and so naïve back then. He kept telling me that he would make sure we made millions by the time we were twenty-five as long as I did what he asked. I was so desperate to make it in the music industry and to further our careers I did what he told me.”
He picks up his glass from the table and downs what is left.
“I sucked him off, and we had sex in his studio that night, but we both dismissed it afterwards, and he agreed to go along with it. Forgetting it ever happened. But since then, any girl who has got close to me, he gets so angry and jealous. He does everything in his power to push them away, so they end up either selling their story to the press or dumping me all because of him and his dirty fucking scheming. I promise you I won’t let him do that to us, baby.”
I see him visibly become angry as he is retelling the story, but I stay silent since I don’t know what to say. I am content with sitting here listening to him. The sane part of me is telling me not to judge, but the other part is
telling me the complete opposite.
“He told me he was in love with me, and I told him straight that I only did it because I wanted to further my career and that I wasn’t gay. He got so angry he threatened to tell the world that I was secretly gay, but I convinced him not to. I told him I would tell everyone that his record company was about to go bankrupt if he ever breathed a word. I stopped being the naïve gullible boy he knew, and ever since then he has gone back to being just J.D: managing our schedules, overseeing our tours, the usual stuff managers do. He means well, and I don’t think he means to, but he just needs to let go of the past like I have.”
