Page 49 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

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Five days later, Luke crept out of Willow’s bedroom, like he had done in the early hours of the morning every day since she’d got back from the hospital.

Well, it was preceded by him climbing into her bed in the moments before she fell asleep. He’d feel her press her back up against his chest, stroke his arms, hold his hand.

Last night, she’d looped a hand around his neck.

She was definitely awake enough to consent.

And he was too much of a coward to admit the way he held her, the way he stroked her soft skin was anything other than giving her comfort when she needed it.

Or that he’d had the best fucking sleep in ten years. That he woke up in the morning filled with energy, ready to take on the day and rehearsals and interviews as the advanced publicity machine for the album release kicked in.

He palmed his cock in the shower. Waking with her in his space, her arse against his dick, the scent of her surrounding him, and his hand cupping her breast was the perfect recipe for a hard-on. As he squeezed and stroked his full length, he imagined what it would feel like to slip his hand inside her pyjamas and stroke her until she came. He came with a stifled grunt.

Once dressed, he passed her room where she was still fast asleep. Certain that baking a baby took energy, he didn’t want to wake her, but he did pause to look at her. A slow thud in his chest settled as he took in her hair spread over the pillow, the way her fist curled near her cheek.

It would be the mother of all lies to say he didn’t want her. Want something ... more from her. Maybe he was too fucking chicken to admit.

He’d left his drums at the rehearsal space at Cerys’s studio, so he popped into Costa to grab a coffee and breakfast bap to eat on the tram. He owed Alex fifty quid, so he stopped at the bank to grab some cash. Yawning, he entered his pin number into the machine and followed the instructions. He grabbed the cash and receipt and stepped away. Glancing down at the receipt, he caught sight of the balance. £724,875.71.

Bizarrely, panic hit him first, then his stomach tightened. Willow had transferred the money, and now he knew exactly what a million dollars was in good old British pounds. It felt seedy. Like money earned for services rendered. Taking money to make sure the right thing was done for his kid felt all kinds of fucked up. He had so much debt, but the idea of using the money to pay it off was grimmer than eating a black pudding.

And what was he supposed to say to her? Thanks for the payment.

Fuck that.

Tucking the cash and receipt in his wallet, he walked towards the studio. When he turned the corner onto the studio’s street, he saw Jase kiss Cerys. He held both of her hands in his own as the spring breeze whipped at the hem of Cerys’s dress.

He’d left a beautiful woman in his bed and gained a million dollars. Yet, everything was off. He felt Jase and Cerys’s happiness as if it were alive and breathing.

“Cut that shit out,” he grumbled, as envy filtered through his veins. He remembered how good it had felt to kiss Willow and fought down the confusion that made him want to do it again. Only now, she was paying him.

“Don’t look at him, sunshine,” Jase said. “If we ignore him, he’ll go away.”

“Morning, Luke,” Cerys said brightly. “And you,” she said, stepping up on to her toes to kiss Jase chastely one more time, “you need to leave.”

“What I need is for you to come back home and spend the day in bed with me. Little Jase misses you.”

“You’re the only person I know who could get away with naming his dick and talking about him as if he was an independent entity,” Luke said.

“My dick is an independent entity. Tell him, Cerys.”

Cerys deftly dodged away from Jase. “I’m not telling him anything. I will see you and Little Jase later. Now, let me go do my work.”

“Spoilsport. Fine.”

Jase watched Cerys walk up the steps to the building with a grin on his face. “Move in with me,” he shouted.

“No,” echoed from within the building.

“I’m going to convince her. She thinks we’re rushing it.”

“You are. You met three months ago.”

“Says the guy who knocked up his woman on the first date.”

Luke laughed. “She’s not my woman, and that’s a low blow, even for you.”

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