Page 133 of Cherry Beats

She’d secretly recorded him, and he had no idea.

Presley’s body swayed, his arms resting over his knees as he rolled from side to side. His blonde hair was scraped back, and his face looked sweaty—fresh from a performance as he stared into Janey’s eyes with a look I’d seen from him so many times. He was wasted… and he was horny.

“You’re clearly a phenomenal drummer,” Janey said on the video, her body leaning closer to Presley. “You’re on the verge of being a global phenomenon. You have the talent, the right music… the looks,” she whispered. “Are you ready for the way your life is going to change, Presley?”

His signature smirk came out in full force. “No one is ever ready for change, Miss…”

“Dominic. Janey Dominic.”

“That’s a shit last name for such a gorgeous woman.”

She chuckled, tilting her head to one side. “Really. What do you think it should be?”

“Something that describes you. Something more… ethereal.”

“You’re making me blush, Presley. Are these compliments of yours an attempt to smooth me over so I give you a good review?”

“You’ll give me a good review anyway. They always do.”

“They?”

Presley blinked slowly, swaying from side to side to a rhythm nobody else could hear. “The critics. Women, too.”

“You’re more confident than I realised.”

“Shyness only gets you walked over.”

Bile rose in my throat as I watched him flirt with the one woman I truly despised. That look he was giving her was meant for me. That smirk was for my eyes only. That’s what I’d allowed myself to foolishly believe, brushing his encounters with people like Harriet Cole under the carpet to let myself live in the moment—live in this dream. Yet there he was, sliding his greasy charm over Janey Dominic’s skin like he truly wanted her.

Janey went on to ask him about the music, and Presley answered in ways that made him sound like he didn’t give a shit—he had his eyes set on a woman he wanted, and all he was bothered about was taking her to bed and ravishing every inch of her.

She talked about his future with the band. He directed the conversation back to her.

She talked about his youth as a kid who wanted to drum for the rest of his life. He directed the conversation back to her.

She talked about his childhood. He directed the conversation back to her.

Then she mentioned Hollings Hill.

“It’s a small town,” she purred. At this point, Presley’s hand was out, gripping onto the tips of Janey’s fingers as he stared into her eyes, the two of them as close as they could get with the phone staring up at them from the coffee table that separated their bodies. “What was it like growing up there?”

“You don’t really want to know about Hollings Hill, do you, Janey?”

“Personally? No.” She blew out a breath that let everyone know she was falling under his spell. “But my audience will want to know everything about you soon, and I’m going to admit something very personal to you now: my audience matters. My job matters. I want to be the one standing at the front of the line when you and Youth Gone Wild make it big. I want to be the one speaking your name first, telling them all about you. You think you can give that to me?”

She knew Presley was wasted, and she was using it to her advantage. Still, my skin prickled and the need to run made my feet itch.

Somehow, I watched on.

Presley leaned even closer to her on the screen.

“You’re persuasive and persistent. I like women like that. I’m drawn to confidence… to seeing the real version of whoever is put in front of me, whether that version is bad or good. You remind me of a girl back home. A sweet girl. A girl I watched transform in front of my eyes. The only difference between the two of you is that she’s too scared to live and you aren’t.” Presley paused, his eyes narrowing as a look I couldn’t decipher washed over his face.

“This girl sounds like she meant a lot to you.”

He blinked hard. “She will again one day. When I need her. When things get dark. I’ll seek her out when she’s useful to me.” He looked up into Janey’s eyes, his charm back in place. “Until then, I’ll focus on women like you. Women who know what they want. Women who don’t make you work so damn hard for every little thing. Women who like to live on the edge. You like to live on the edge, don’t you, Janey?”

Her victorious smile took over, and the last words we heard before she leaned closer to kiss him and turn off her phone were, “Presley West, you have no idea.”

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