Page 69 of Cherry Beats

The bubble appeared and disappeared several times before I finally got a response.

Presley:I thought your stubborn little arse would at least take a day before I heard from you.

Me:What can I say? I’m that desperate to make sure you’re not mad at me.

Presley:Mad? I’m fucking raging.

Me:Then let me make it up to you.

The bubble appeared and disappeared again.

Presley:I’ll send a car. Be ready in fifteen minutes.

The second I’d made the decision to be brave, a weight was lifted from my shoulders. Funny how that happened—how when faced with doing the thing I’d been most scared of, I actually somehow felt lighter. On a path. The course set for me, and the decisions I’d had to make somehow lost to the past.

Tiptoeing around Molly was easy as I threw a few essentials into a bag. There was no point in waking her. When Molly was this sound asleep, not even an earthquake could disturb her slumber. I went out into the living room and wrote her a note explaining that I was an idiot who couldn’t sleep and had to get out of the apartment. I’d call her tomorrow—today, whatever time it was in the middle of the damn night now, and all she had to do was leave and lock up behind her when she left.

As promised, a car came to collect me. I wasn’t sure what I expected. Some English gent in a black suit, white shirt, black tie, and fancy hat like I was in aPretty Womanmovie or something. What I got, however, was a different story entirely. A silver Audi R8 came flying down the deadly quiet street, crawling to a slow stop when he saw me standing at the side of the road like a prostitute. Maybe I was channellingPretty Womanwithout realising it.

The window rolled down, and an older, attractive man wearing a brown bomber jacket leaned over and peered up at me.

“You Cherry?”

“It’s a nickname.” I cringed. “Tess,” I introduced myself.

“Didn’t need to know that.” He grinned, his teeth pearly white, making his whole face light up. “Hop in.”

I did, sliding into the compact space as carefully as I could and clutching my bag to my chest.

“Seatbelt on.”

“Sure.” I nodded, fixing it in place.

The man was holding the steering wheel with one hand while his other rested on the gear stick. I glanced his way, taking a peek at him, only to see that he was very much invested in staring at me, too. Man, he was attractive. Older, but attractive. His dark hair was long, falling just below his ears in natural waves that any woman would envy—very Bradley Cooper in A Star is Born, which instantly made me think of the band’s very own Coops, too. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, and I concentrated on my driver again. Brown eyes shone back at me, and I found myself smiling at this somewhat familiar stranger I’d just climbed into a car with.

“So, you’re the girl he’s completely obsessed with?” He grinned knowingly.

“I am?” I scowled, twisting my lips and pulling back my smile. “I made that sound like a question, didn’t I?”

“Yep. Probably best to ditch that and just own it. Presley hates any kind of…”

“Mask?”

“Mask.” He nodded slowly.

“You sound like you know a lot about him.”

“I should. I’m his uncle.”

Uncle? He hadn’t mentioned an uncle to me.

“On his Mum’s side, or on his…?”

“On his dad’s. Fuck that wife of his. Never really liked her much, but Presley’s dad was besotted with her, so what can you do but let love play out, hey?”

I blanched, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “Nothing, I guess.”

“Dexter,” he said, offering his hand for me to shake. “Uncle Dex, as Presley calls me.”

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