Page 78 of Going Solo

ChapterThirty-Two

At quarter past ten the next morning I was sitting in the driver’s seat of the van—the GPS set, my hands on the steering wheel, desperate to hit the road. Where was Nick? Not only did we need to make tracks, I was in urgent need of a debrief about the night before. I honked the horn. My phone pinged.

Nick:Sorry, he called shotgun.

The passenger door opened, and Cole Kennedy jumped in, wearing hisPop Reviewbaseball cap. He held up a bag of sweets.

“I come bearing the Haribos of apology.” He pushed the peak of his cap back so I could see his eyes. Nick, I guessed, was in the jet again. “I’m sorry about last night. I had no idea that was going to happen.”

“Really?” I was gripping the steering wheel as intensely as Aunty Cheryl gripped the off-duty Magic Mike dancer she found in the bar on our Royal Caribbean cruise last winter. “So that little stunt wasn’t the ‘surprise’ you promised me?”

“No!” Cole held up his hands in surrender. “Chase was the surprise. I thought you’d like to see him. You two always got on. I practically had to sneak him in. Felicity has been reading him the Riot Act all morning, apparently.”

“You know the press canneversee us together!” I said, feeling the heat rise in my face. Dammit, I was going to cry. I fought it. “Why would you let an entire TV crew anywhere near your dressing room, when you knew I was in there? It ain’t right.”

“They weren’t the press,” Cole said. “They’re the WebFlix crew that’s following me around. They’re making my documentary. I get final say on the edit. Even if they film you, it wouldn’t go out unless I gave approval.”

It wasn’t enough. Hot tears welled, and I turned to look straight out the windscreen so Cole couldn’t see them.

“Did you, or Fiona, or anyone on your team, tell them to film me?”

“Absolutely not,” Cole said.

“Because they seemed pretty determined to film me.”

“I think when they saw you in my dressing room, they got a bit overexcited. Journalistic instinct, or whatever. I’m sorry. I know that must have been triggering for you. But I promise, I didn’t know they were going to be there. They were there to film me, not you.”

“The stupid thing is,” I said, “I thought we were going to hang out last night, the two of us. And all along you’d planned to film your ego project and spend time with your mate.”

“Toby, please look at me.” I felt the warmth of Cole’s finger against my chin, gently pulling me to face him. My eyes met his. “Toby, they wanted to film me last night because they’ve found my birth mum.”

My anger evaporated. “What?”

“The producers have been looking for my birth family, and they’ve found my mum. She’s alive. She’s living in New Zealand. I’m going to go out there next month to meet her. I’d go sooner but… schedules.”

“Cole, that’s amazing.” I slid my hands into his. There were tears in Cole’s eyes now too.

“The crew had just found out and wanted to film my reaction when Fiona told me. They had no idea you were in my dressing room.”

“I ain’t bothered about that now,” I said. “Tell me about your mum. What do you know about her?”

“No, come on. We need to scoot, I’ll tell you on the drive. But… can I have a hug first?”

I shuffled across the bench seat and put my arms around him. I felt like an absolute melt. Cole’s arms slid around my body and held me tight, his cheeks damp against mine. He smelt of cinnamon and citrus, and I breathed it in like a drug. What must he be feeling? I wondered. I should have been there for him last night.

“I’m sorry I ran off. I thought you’d stitched me up.”

“No, I’m sorry you were alone in my dressing room for so long. I hope you weren’t too bored before Chase arrived.” He looked over at me with an eyebrow cocked.

Oh God. Please. No…

“Not at all,” I said, cautiously. “Whyyyy do you ask?”

“Left my pants in a right old state.”

I shrieked and tried to pull away, but Cole’s arms gripped me tighter, and his hand wove up into my hair and held my head firm against his. Cole’s breath was hot against my ear. “I loved it. I haven’t taken them off since I found them.”

I shrieked again. “You’re winding me up?”

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