Page 76 of Going Solo

Cole laughed. “Tobias, have you even listened to the song?”

“Of course I have.”

“What’s it about?”

“It’s a break-up song…”

Nick was in my ear. “Twenty seconds. Wrap it up.”

“Tell you what,” Cole said. “You go away and listen to the lyrics. I think if you listen a little more closely, it’ll all become clear.”

Nick’s finger was giving me the wind-up. He was shaking his head, like he was disappointed in me. I wrapped up the interview. Outside, the Kenneddicts cheered, and I fed the audio through before hitting the button to fire off “Reborn.”Tap. Our microphones were off. The interview was over. Cole sat there, leaning towards me. His shirt billowed open, and I could see the neatly clipped hair of his chest and the tattoos he’d acquired in the years since we’d been together. A gold pendant swung hypnotically from a chain around his neck.

“Did I muck that up?” I asked, confused.

Cole reached a hand over and grabbed mine. “That was the best interview I’ve done in years.”

“So, why do I feel like I’ve failed a test?”

“You didn’t fail anything,” Cole said. His finger brushed along the seam of my jeans. “Keep pulling at that thread, Toby.”

Fiona’s head popped through the door. “We gotta scoot.”

Cole let me go and stood up. I felt his absence, the warmth of his body leaving my personal space. I wanted to rush towards it, cling to it, follow it.

“You’re still coming to the show tonight, right?” he asked, tucking his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

“Of course.”

“Come backstage afterwards?”

I couldn’t say yes quickly enough. The chance to spend more time alone with Cole was suddenly the thing I wanted most in the whole world. Fiona handed me a backstage pass, then grabbed my neck and pulled me down to her for what I thought was going to be a peck on the cheek.

“Much better,” she whispered in my ear. “Thank you.”

As she turned and left, Cole pointed a finger back and forth between his sister and me.

“No kiss for me, though, right?”

“Absolutely not,” I said. There were at least two dozen photographers outside with their lenses trained on us.

“See you tonight.”

“Of course,” I said, knowing every second until I could get him alone was going to be agony.

“Good. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Last time you said that, you took me to an oncology department.”

And with that, Cole turned and disappeared from the studio and into a swarm of security guards.

My phone pinged.

Denzil:Much better bruv.

ChapterThirty-One

After the show, Fiona took me down to Cole’s dressing room to wait while he did a meet-and-greet with his fans. Nick had bailed on me to go back to the hotel to sext with Dav. At least that’s what he told me. I suspected he wanted to playMario Kartwithout Princess Peach annoying him the whole time. The room was drab and soulless, with dirty white walls and sticks of charity shop furniture. I sat on the couch for half an hour, scrolling my phone. When I got bored with that, I decided to snoop. With its being a dressing room, I’d expected racks of costumes, bottles of hairspray, and tubs of greasepaint, but Cole’s “people” must have already cleared all that away—the show was on the road again in the morning, headed to Birmingham for two more gigs. All that remained, sitting on the table in front of the mirror, was a brown leather overnight bag with three little initials,C.J.K., in gilt. I ran my fingers over the stitching and the embossed lettering. Quality. I leaned closer and breathed in the leather. The latch was undone, and the bag was unlocked. Something glittered, catching my eye. Carefully, I slid my hand in and fished it out. A small black bottle with a gold cap.Oajan, the script across the front read, then the wordsParfums de Marly. I sprayed it into the air and let the scent wash over me.This. This was the smell of Cole Kennedy. This was where that note of cinnamon that followed him everywhere came from. And citrus. Honey. Vanilla. This was why Cole Kennedy smelt like a pastry shop. I felt my pants tighten as my body responded to the thought of Cole, the smell of him. I slipped the bottle back into the bag, and my fingers brushed a piece of soft fabric. It was the shirt Cole had been wearing earlier. Gently, I plucked it from the bag and buried my face in it—sucking in the smell. I was rigid now. I adjusted myself into a more comfortable position. As I slipped the shirt back into the bag, I spotted Cole’s underpants, neatly folded, down the end of the bag. My cock pulsed, urgently. I pulled the underpants out of the bag, held them up in front of the light, and stuck my other hand inside my jeans to double-check I hadn’t spectacularly soiled my own pants.Click. The door opened. I spun around, quick as lightning, whipping my hands behind my back. As I waited for Cole to emerge through the door—a split second that felt like an eternity—I wiped my fingers on the only thing I had to hand, Cole’s underpants.

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