Page 101 of Cherry Beats

“I’ll keep him on the straight and narrow, Uncle Dex,” I teased. Dex simply nodded, and I thought he was about to turn and leave when he chucked his chin and gestured to the door.

“Presley? A quick word before I go?”

Presley tensed in my arms before he slipped out from our embrace and followed his uncle out of the suite… leaving me with four international superstars I barely knew, and nowhere else to turn.

When I spun around to look at them, Rhett’s face was alight, his forehead covered with moisture and his hair scraped back away from his face. Whenever I was in front of him like this, an unfamiliar urge to cover my body with my arms took over me. Rhett had a way of undressing you with his eyes, except it wasn’t your skin he want to see… it was all the dirty parts of your soul.

“Hey, Red. Why don’t you come and take a seat?” Rhett offered, patting the space on the sofa beside him.

“Don’t start, prick. Leave her alone,” Hawk butted in as he leaned over the coffee table and began to deal out a pack of cards. An already half-finished cigarette hung from his lips, the smoke rising over his face and making his eyes narrow as he glanced up at me. “You want in, Cherry?”

“What you playing?” I moved closer.

“Poker.”

“The same game Pres will be playing with you once he gets you alone in that room of his,” Rhett chipped in.

“Shut the fuck up, man.” Hawk reached across to slap Rhett on the arm.

“Come on. Just because there’s a regular piece of arse on the scene now, I suddenly have to become respectful and chivalrous.”

“You’re such a dick tonight.” Hawk shook his head.

“Why? Because I’m refusing to change my ways just because there’s a chick on the scene?”

“Typical frontman. Always the diva.” Hawk sighed.

“Yeah, and you’re just jealous because I’m the one saying fuck that noise. We had a deal… all of us, and someone’s breaking it. I’m letting that slide, but I am who I am, and if Red here doesn’t like it, she knows where the door is.” Rhett stared at me, his irritating smirk reminding me of Freddie’s and all the shit he’d already thrown at me that night. “Sorry, sweetheart, but if you want to really live your life with the band, you’re going to have to take me as I am or walk the fuck away. Choice is yours.”

“Are you trying to intimidate me, Rhett?” I asked abruptly, crossing my arms over my chest and staring at him. “Make me feel uncomfortable. Hope I’ll find you too much to handle and run away to hide in my room. Maybe get so isolated in there that I dream of going home and leaving you guys behind. Is that the plan? To find a way to get rid of me so I’m not the problem you think I’m going to be for the band?”

Rhett laughed, opened his mouth to say something, and quickly shut it again when I cut him off.

“If it is, it sucks. Big time.” I smiled flatly and raised my brows. “I’m really sorry to tell you, but I’ve been around drunks and egos a long time now, Rhett. I’ve worked with them for years, served them, smiled sweetly while wanting to jab them in the eyes with my thumbs, and I’ve still gone home every night feeling relaxed as all hell. So, if you think you scare me, you don’t. You might think you should, and you might even be able to manipulate some of the bikini-clad beauties around here with one of your…” I unfolded my arms and flashed him my jazz hands, “smouldering smirks and I-may-fuck-you glares, but to me, you’re just a regular guy who happens to sing for a living and look good on stage doing it. I admire you and what you do, but that can change. Believe me when I tell you that there’s no quip you can make, no sarcastic comment you can throw at me, and no threat you can dish out that I haven’t heard before.” I took a step closer, moving myself to stand over the coffee table they were all sitting around. Dropping my hands to the surface of it, I leaned over and whispered directly at Rhett, “And if you think me being here is just a game you can play, you might want to reconsider. If you’re wanting someone to fuck with, go ahead, but know for damn sure that you picked the wrong night to try and fuck with me.”

You could have cut the tense silence with a knife as we stared at one another

“Woah,” Coops eventually cried in appreciation, showing the most personality I’d ever seen from him.

“You sure as shit weren’t expecting that, Rhett,” Big D chuckled.

“No. No, I wasn’t,” Rhett mumbled quietly, his eyes narrowing as his smile grew. Raising a brow, I stared at him, unblinking, wanting him to know I wasn’t going to back down.

“What’s going on here?” Presley asked roughly. I hadn’t even heard him come back into the room, and his hands went to my back as I began to straighten up.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I assured him, never taking my eyes from Rhett.

“Is this arsehole giving you shit?”

“Like she said, man… it’s clearly nothing she can’t handle,” Rhett answered for me. He lowered himself back into the plush cushions of the sofa, sniffing up once before he turned to look back out over London with a cocky smirk on his face.

I’d always admired him from what I’d seen of him on the television or heard on the radio, and I knew Presley was loyal to his band mates, but something about the way Rhett was trying to press all my buttons made me uneasy.

“You guys playing poker or what?” Hawk asked, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

I turned to Presley and raised a brow. “You wanna play?”

“Do you know how?”

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