Page 5 of Give Me What I Want

“So you’re not over it,” he sighed. “Look, I know Garth was a bit of a dick about it all, but I want to put it behind us. This is what we do, isn’t it? We fight, then we make up. So, I’m sorry. Forgive me for being a, what is it you called me last month, a cock-womble?” He laughed, and I shook my head, pursing my lips to hide my own laughter. He was right, this was what we always did. Only this time was different. This timehewas saying sorry, and acting all sweet and lovely, like he really cared about making things better quickly rather than milking it. I didn’t understand it, but I wasn’t going to question it, not to his face anyway. If we could move past this right now, I’d take it.

“You’re forgiven, Ro-bear,” I said with a grin, batting my lashes as he blew air loudly through his lips.

“Ro-bear is a little far, don’t you think?”

“I like it.” I continued to grin, even when our next course was placed down before us. A mango sorbet. I sat forward, scooped up a large mouthful, and hummed as it slid down my throat. With the air between us now clear, my appetite had suddenly returned, and that bloated feeling disappeared in an instant. Strange.

“I don’t,” he muttered, digging into his own sorbet and nodding his approval. He had a far pickier palate than I did. Honestly, I’d have been quite content with a McDonald’s cheeseburger, but that wasn’t very ‘famous celeb’ of me. Nor was it the ideal place to be papped making up with my bandmate. Plus, the happier Ro was, the smoother the next few months would be. Huge blow-ups between us at home I could handle, we had plenty of places to get away from each other. But on the road, it wasn’t as easy. There were only so many places you could go to hide on the bus, and even fewer places on those rare nights that we spent in hotels. Also, whenever we stopped in each city we couldn’t just go out on our own, not unless we had some idea about where we were. Like here, I could have stormed off here quite happily and not been noticed. I knew this place well. But if we were somewhere like Venice, a place I’d be visiting for the first time at the end of the month, I’d have no idea how to safely go out alone.

But that was neither here nor there since in two days’ time we’d be joined by a security team, and Garth had lectured me endlessly on always taking at least one of them out with me, but also not abusing having them around. Weirdly, I was the only one who had received that lecture.

Ro and I made comfortable small talk over the final course, and as we waited for our bill, I directed our conversation to Maverick, wondering if Ronan had any bright ideas about how to support our guitarist.

“Steve is seriously ill, there’s no changing that. It’s a waiting game, and Mav knows it. All we can do is be here. We’ve lost parents, we know how much it hurts, losing Steve will be about as hard as losing them was, it’ll run its course,” Ro said, showing the smallest fraction of empathy towards Mav.

Maverick’s uncle, Steve, had been diagnosed with some rare disease a while back, and when Mav had told us we had all kind of brushed it off. We didn’t know what it meant, and it didn’tsoundscary. But as the months went on, and Steve’s health got so much worse, we started to worry. It turned out that there was no cure, not even any treatment that he could undergo. So we did what we could. We made sure he was in the place of his dreams, with the sweetest, most attentive nurses known to man, and we raised money for research. Charity shows, limited edition merch, even a new single, all to try to give him a chance. It was too little too late though. Steve had been given a couple of months, weeks even, to live.

Doctors got these things wrong all the time though, that was what Cole had said, our little ray of sunshine, always trying his best to make a bad thing seem good, even if he had absolutely no idea how to.

I didn’t have the optimism that he did about this though. I had seen Steve, felt how weak he was, and Mav had too, he wasn’t blind to it or in denial. He was hurting before he even had anything to truly hurt over, and that shit broke my heart.

“I hope he gets through it better than I did,” I mumbled, trying to forget about how I had acted when my parents had died. A car crash. It was sudden, and I had not coped. I had put on a front, a little act, mostly for my sister’s benefit, but behind closed doors, I was a mess. I pretended to be numb, but in reality, I felt it all, and I wanted that to stop. I tried to make it stop.

I’d never tell those boys that they had saved me. I think deep down they all knew it and just refused to acknowledge it. But if it wasn’t for them, the support they showed me, and the future we were building, I’d have been found bleeding out in a bathtub.

He hadn’t spoken, but still, I refused to look back up at Ronan as I slipped my coat on, not wanting him to see any memories of that time reflected in my eyes. Ro was so much stronger than I was, and I didn’t need him to see me as anything other than the pain-in-the-ass bitch that he knew and loved—but didn’t always like. Vulnerability wasn’t something Ro and I shared with each other.

Wordlessly, we made our way down to the ground floor. Then just before the elevator doors pinged open, I cleared my throat. “You ready?” I asked, peering up at him through my lashes.

“Always.” He smirked, and I rolled my eyes before putting on my best smile, looping my arm through his elbow, and forcing a laugh as we emerged into the street.

Lights flashed all around us, and I feigned shock as I attempted to shield my eyes, dropping my head and gasping as Ronan pushed his way through the crowd of cameras that had been waiting for us outside. His hand wrapped around my arm as he pulled me through a gap he had made, but when I was only halfway through someone stepped between us, shoving a lens into my face and barking questions at me.

Ronan’s grasp on me loosened, and for just a moment I was alone. He had left me, saved his own ass and left me to deal with the lights and questions. I could handle it, sure. But I shouldn’t fucking have to. No matter what Garth said, this was all as much Ro’s fault as mine. This meal may have been my ‘apology’, but we had the bad press because of the both of us.

Spinning to find myself an exit from the crowd, I felt a sudden panic rise up in me. I had worn low, comfortable heels, nothing that gave me any real height, and I felt as though I was being swallowed up by the people getting up in my face. An arm wrapped around my waist, and I didn’t hesitate for a moment as I moved with the pull, tucking close into his side. The way he held me, although new, felt familiar, and that scent, it was unmistakeably him.

Ro wouldn’t leave me behind, even on his worst days. Never in public. Our image, what we had worked for, it meant more to him than any bad feelings between us, our spats meant nothing. I hated myself a little for having doubted him for even a second though.

“I’ve got you, Your Majesty,” he murmured, then shoved his way through stubborn bodies once again, this time keeping me close, arm unmoving around my waist.

“Thanks, Ro-bear,” I whispered when we had made it past them all and were safely in the silver Audi that Garth had hired for us.

I buckled my seatbelt and melted into the seat, sighing loudly before glancing at Ronan. “Do you think they bought it?”

“Oh, hell yeah. There isn’t a chance in hell that they’ll print anything negative now,” he said, flashing me a wide smile. “Especially after I saved your ass, they’ll no doubt paint me as the hero who would do anything for his bandmates.”

I eyed him suspiciously, then burst, my jaw dropping as he gave me a wink that confirmed my thoughts. “You did it on purpose? You let me go so that you could bag yourself a better story!” I exploded, bolting upright and cursing as my seatbelt jammed against my chest.

Ronan laughed—a horribly cocky sound—and bit his lip before rolling his shoulders and starting the engine. “Annoyed that you didn’t think of it first?”

I choked out a noise of outrage. “Fuck you, Ro. You think you’re so smart, don’t you.”

“Iamsmart.” He placed his hand on the back of my headrest and glanced over his shoulder as he reversed out of the parking space. His tattooed forearm was so close to my head that I could simply turn and bite it. Something that I was painfully tempted to do, even if it felt childish.

Fuck it.

Turning my head, I opened my mouth, inched forward, and sank my teeth into his warm flesh.

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