Page 158 of Cherry Beats

I lost a part of me on that stage I didn’t ever want back. I wanted him to hold it in his heart and take care of it because I didn’t trust myself with any of me anymore. I only trusted him.

Everyone’s a little twisted, and I wanted to unravel with Presley. Only ever him.

When he pulled back to look at me one final time, he dropped his forehead to mine and flashed me a private smile.

“You do know you just ran straight past the Bryan Adams, don’t you?”

“Bryan who?”

“Fuck. You love me more than Bryan?”

“A thousand times more.”

“I’m gonna run to you,”Presley sang for me, his rough, edgy, quiet voice making me throw my head back and laugh.

The crowd cheered louder, forcing us to look their way, the clapping and chants making my skin tingle. All I could see were smiling faces staring back at us. The band, Bryan Adams, the fans. Sometimes wanting someone isn’t enough. You have to want the life they live, too, to make it work. It was at that very moment I understood the truth of it all.

For every person who hated you and tried to bring you down, there were a thousand more cheering you on from the sidelines—some cheers loud, others silent and unassuming. This was our love story, and we happened to have an audience of people waiting to read all about it.

We were the lucky ones.

We were our own youths gone wild—losing the weight of expectation, freeing ourselves of worry and doubt.

“I’ve got to finish the set, baby,” he whispered in my ear, the heat of it making my stomach clench.

Turning back to him, I gave him a smile and uncurled my legs from his waist, sliding back down until my feet hit the platform. It was like standing on shaky ground, my knees now jelly and my world spinning.

“Wait for me,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I assured him.

And I meant it. Every word.

Epilogue

Two Months Later

PRESLEY

“Tess, come on.”

“In a minute!” she shouted from the bathroom.

“I can’t believeI’mthe one chasing arse here,” I muttered to myself, shoving her things into a bag and zipping it up. Schedules weren’t for me. Keeping time was not my strong point. The only thing I was any good at was winging my way through life, getting by on a bit of talent and a lot of charm.

Every bit of that was going to shit today.

Today, I had to be organised. Every moment was set in stone, waiting for me to drag her along, hoping she didn’t ask too many questions on the way. Although, I wasn’t too worried about those. Since throwing herself back into my life, Tess had changed before my eyes.

Gone was the unsure woman who didn’t believe someone like her could survive the spotlight. She didn’t spend her days looking confused, unsure, or in a daydream. Her confidence shone now, neither too heavy or too light. She lived her days holding my hand, following me and the band on the road and giving up her life back home so she could be a part of mine.

She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve me, apparently. She had no idea how many times I lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling while she slept beside me, wondering how the hell I ended up with someone as amazing as her.

After TriFest, Tess had taken to social media herself, creating an account where she could give her version of events, as and when it suited her. And, being the formidable woman I always knew she was, her first Instagram post happened to be a video directed at none other than Janey Dominic. She condemned her for her personal attacks, the lies she told, the video footage she illegally took and used against us. She belittled her without being venomous. Her quirky personality and immaculate one-liners making her audience grow to the hundreds of thousands within days.

She demanded an apology from the newspaper Janey worked for, saying she had nothing to lose anymore and if they wanted to go after her, she’d have fun playing cat and mouse. Tess shone in front of that camera, and I couldn’t believe she was willing to put herself out there that way. Not for me. Not for us.

It only made me love her more.

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