Page 85 of Cherry Beats

“I guess I need to tell the people in my world who I plan on being with now that this big superstar has told me I can’t ever leave him.”

His smile was only fleeting before he closed the gap between us and crushed his lips to mine. Lord, I would never tire of that first moment of contact. The taste, the smoothness, the urgency—all of them combined to make it the thing I’d seek out for the rest of my life, even when I was old, grey, and my body had become worn.

When he pulled away, he rested his lips against my forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, you will.”

Presley backed up and searched my eyes, his mouth opening to say something before he thought better of it, shook his head, and peeled himself away from me. Then he was out of sight, being pushed through a door, which was quickly closed on me and the rest of the press in the main part of the hotel suite we were in.

“Thank you for that,” Julia said in a rush of exasperated breath. “Make yourself at home. There’s a private, quieter room down the corridor on the right if you need it. No one will disturb you. It also has a mini bar.”

I didn’t have time to thank her before she, too, walked away and pushed through the door where the interviews were taking place.

With one look around, I saw all the judgemental and questioning faces of strangers staring back at me. Right. Yeah. To the quiet room.

Nobody stopped to question me since I had walked in holding Presley’s hand, and because I had a lanyard granting me access-all-areas hanging around my neck. When I slipped into the room, I made my way to the king size bed, brushed my hand over the perfectly crisp duvet, and I sank into the edge of it, bouncing my bum up and down just a few times before I reached into my back pocket for my phone.

First call: Molly.

She was understanding, and a little bit giddy when she realised where I currently was.

“And there’s free booze?”

“This is the music industry.” I chuckled. “Alcohol is more popular than oxygen around here.”

“Open the mini bar. Tell me what’s in there.”

“I’ve just spent the night and day with Presley West, rolling around in the sheets, and that’s all you want to know?”

“Oh, hell no. But I can hear that happiness in your voice, so I think I can guess how that story goes. Big dick. Big O. Big fucking smile making your cheeks ache. I get it, but I want you to give me the full debrief when we’re face-to-face. That way, I can see the way he makes your eyes sparkle when you talk about him and his legendary wanger.”

“I love you.” I sighed softly.

That was why I adored her so much. After telling her to be safe, and assuring her I’d call her later, I ended the call and searched through my phone for Bourbon’s name.

I tried him three times, but each time it rang out and went through to his voicemail. It wasn’t unusual for him to miss my calls. When he was in the cellar, his signal was rubbish. If he was busy in the bar or preoccupied with Felicity, that phone would be on silent, sitting in the back pocket of his blue jeans. When the call clicked through to the voicemail for the third time, I decided to leave a message.

“Hey, boss. I know you’re not ignoring me because you’re mad at me for leaving the place in the hands of Elle last night, right? I had an emergency… one of the, erm, heart.” I swallowed, realising how cheesy that sounded, and I scrunched up my nose in embarrassment. “In all the time I’ve worked for and adored you, I’ve never really asked for much time off or many favours, and I get that this is out of the blue, but I really need a few days away from Hollings Hill, B. I mean… Ireallyneed them. You know I wouldn’t ask unless it was an emergency, and I know you rely on me for everything, but…” I stopped and let out a deflated breath. “I’m scared if I don’t end up taking these next few days for myself, I’ll end up regretting it for the rest of my life. Call me when you get this. I love you.”

Guilt was a shitty emotion to harbour. I hated the way it grated the surface of your skin to feel ashamed about putting yourself before the people you loved, but if you didn’t do that occasionally, how the hell could you love yourself the way you deserved to be loved?

Rubbing a hand over my forehead, I looked for the next number in my phone.

Dad.

I hit call.

“What’s up?” he answered roughly, no greeting or affection in his tone, just an urgent need to know why I was calling him, and if I’d landed him in any shit the way Freddie always seemed to do.

“Hey, Dad,” I answered warmly anyway.

“Tess.”

“I have something I need to talk to you and Mum about. Is she there?”

He took a moment’s pause before he cleared his throat. “Yep.”

“Can you put me on speaker phone?”

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