Page 79 of Cherry Beats

He just looked smug, standing in his kingdom, letting his people know how it was going to be. Letting me know how my life was going to be run.

“Presley, I have work,” I whispered.

“The last thing you need is a distraction like this.” Julia pointed.

“If you knew even a fraction of what you think you know, Jules, you’d be a hundred percent certain that Cherry is exactly what I need right now.”

He began to pick up my clothes from the floor, gathering them up in his hands before he dropped them, and my bag on the bed beside me.

He turned to smile sweetly at Julia. “Cherry will be riding with the boys and me today. If we need to get a separate car for us, that’s works, too.”

“Dicky won’t allow it.” Julia was clearly in a panic, her irritation obvious.

“Listen,” I started, holding a hand up in the air. “The last thing I want is to be any kind of nuisance. I don’t want to make things difficult. I’m happy to go home and then, Presley, maybe you can call me once your schedule—”

His finger snapped out to point at me, his stare heated and unmoving as he held my gaze. “Not today, Tess. Not this time. You’re staying.”

“But…”

“I said you’re staying. We’re not running out on each other anymore. Deal with it.”

I sank back into my position, wanting to argue, but somehow knowing that doing it in front of Julia wasn’t the right time or the right place for that particular conversation.

Julia looked between the two of us for a moment more before she threw her hands in the air and turned to leave, her footsteps angry and more determined than before. “You’ve got five minutes,” she called over her shoulder. “A second late, and we’re going without you both. I did not sign up for this shit.”

She disappeared, leaving Presley and I to stare at each other. Me looking like a deer in the headlights. Him looking like the guy who was driving the goddamn car. Neither one of us backed down, and the longer I remained silent, the smugger that grin of his got.

“God damn you, Presley West!” I eventually cried, throwing myself back onto the mattress and slamming my arms down in fury.

His laughter was soon hovering over me as he leaned down to gift me with a kiss. “You can’t outrun me. Stop trying. You have three minutes, baby. Better get some clothes on for the ride.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Relax,” Presley whispered as we made our way out to the lifts, walking past two different security guards this time. His fingers tightened around mine. “I’ve got you.”

Those three words whispered with sincerity made my stomach flip. Looking up, I smiled at him and watched as he took a good look at me. Running a finger over the side of my hair, he brought his knuckles down across my cheek.

“I like you with your hair tied up like this.”

I reached up to press down on the messy bun I’d thrown together before I ran my fingers over my fringe. “Really? I don’t look like I’ve got ‘just fucked’ hair?”

“That’s why I like it.”

A warm blush rose to my cheeks, and the two of us stepped inside the lift, closing ourselves off to the world. As soon as the doors were sealed shut, Presley cupped my cheek and leaned down to kiss me. It was soft and tender, and I found myself rising on my toes of my Docs to get closer. When the doors opened, we were still kissing, and the sudden screech had the two of us pulling apart quickly and looking up in surprise

“Oh myGod!It’s Presley West!” a young girl with braided red hair screamed as she held onto her mother’s hand—the mother I instantly recognised as the movie star Harriet Cole—the woman who had played one of my all-time favourite parts in the movie Silver on Black.

“Holy cow, it’s Harriet Cole,” I whispered, my mouth falling open, and my eyes widening in surprise.

Presley squeezed my hand and turned his attention their way. “Hey, Harriet.”

She flushed red—everyone did around Presley—and she pushed her perfectly blonde, curled hair behind her ear before she gave him a smile that really could be seen next to the definition of beautiful. She was other-worldly. “Hello, again, Presley.”

“Hey, Tilly.” He patted the little girl’s head as he walked out of the lift, dragging me with him. I scurried on nervous feet to keep up with his stride, glancing back over my shoulder to stare at Harriet goddamn Cole again.

“Presley West knows my name, Mummy. He knows my name,” little Tilly cried, tugging on her mum’s arm.

“He sure does, sweetheart,” Harriet replied warmly.

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