Page 85 of Give Me What I Want

“No. Like so much more.Fuck.” He tightened his grip on my chin. “Queenie, I love you, even on the days when you drive me insane, on the days when I don’t really like you. I love you in spite of your god-awful inability to back down. I love your stubborn, sexy ass more than you’ll ever know. So shut up and accept that I’m telling you the truth.”

I blinked hard, taking in his words, and then I looked away, noting that both Cole and Maverick were looking at me the same way that Ronan was, as though he had spoken for them all.

I kept my eyes closed, waiting for the moment to pass. Not sure what to say back. I loved him too. I loved them all. But how could I tell them that without starting up that dreaded conversation where one of them would inevitably tell me they couldn’t go on like this? Sharing me forever. It wasn’t on the cards.

“Food.” Cole broke the silence with a simple word. “What do we all fancy? I’m kinda in the mood for sushi.”

“Mrs Jones wouldn’t have left us sushi,” Mav said, and I heard his footsteps as he walked away, probably checking the fridge just in case.

“I’ll order then,” Cole said brightly.

“Let’s go clean up,” Ro said softly, softer than I had ever heard him before, and then he released my chin, helped me to my feet, and took me up to his ensuite bathroom.

He didn’t speak as we showered together, scrubbing our bodies and faces. He washed my hair for me, and I washed his. Then I redressed in one of his old, worn-out tees and a pair of his boxers, not wanting to go to my own room to hunt for clothes.

“We don’t need to talk about it,” he eventually said as I stood up from my perch on the edge of his sleek, silver, perfectly made bed to go back downstairs. “But I meant it, every word.”

“I know,” I said quietly, then forced a smile as I turned to look at him. “You’re kinda cute, you know that?”

“I’m not,” he protested, and it was enough to make my smile feel real as I turned with a laugh and bounced down the stairs, hitting the bottom step just as someone knocked hard on our front door.

23

“What the hell do you want?” I spat the words out, my fingers gripping the door handle tight, knuckles blanching, teeth clenching.

Goddammit. I had been so relaxed after this morning’s antics, and I was just managing to smile and forget about the awkwardness of what Ronan had said. All I wanted was to chill with my guys and eat sushi. I did not want to be standing in the doorway to our home, dressed in a stolen Kung-fu Panda tee, glaring up at my former guitarist.

“What I want, princess…” Jordan slurred with a narrow-eyed smirk as he taunted me. He had called me princess in that note, the one he had left on the fridge in the bus all those weeks ago. My stomach churned as I recalled the panic I had felt when I found it, but I kept my face controlled, glaring, teeth grinding, the door now held tight against my side. “…Is my stuff back,allof it.”

“You have it all, Jordan. Mrs Jones made sure of that, and she is extremely thorough.” I held my head high as I spoke, chin raised just enough to look down my nose at him. Even when he towered above me I could make him feel small, insignificant. Last night, as I had stood on my stage, thousands of people had dropped to their knees for me. This morning the three most important men in the world to me had done the same. I was no princess. I was a fucking queen.

“The framed tour poster from 2018. I want it. I bought the frame, it was my idea to do it, so give it back.” Jordan swayed as he made his demand, and then he was leaning against the doorframe, one arm raised just above his head as he peered at me with glassy eyes.

That was when I smelt it. The whisky. So much for rehab. It smelled like cheap ass whisky too. It wafted from him as though he was sweating it from his pores. Perhaps he was. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to me that he was drunk. Jordan was always drunk. But for just a moment panic fluttered its way through my chest, chaotic wings colliding with my lungs, making it hard to breath, but it was only for a moment.

Ronan’s breath brushed over the top of my head as he spoke, closing in on my back and wrapping a protective, yet encouraging hand around my shoulder. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I just… Ronan, I… I just want my stuff, then, then I’ll be gone,” Jordan stammered, tripping over his words.

I squinted, taking in his eyes. The glassiness was now accompanied by something else. Something that, if I wasn’t mistaken, looked a little like fear.

“My girl already told you that your stuff has been taken care of. So leave.”

Jordan flinched, then dropped his arm, his whole body seeming to close in on itself as he looked at me, now with watery eyes, a desperate plea leaving his chapped lips. “It’s the only thing I want. Please. I’ll go if you just let me have this one thing.”

“We don’t owe you shit,” Ronan barked, but I held my hand up, halting him as he attempted to move forward, no doubt about to take control of the door and slam it in Jordan's face.

“Go and get the poster, Ro,” I instructed.

“Why the hell should I? He doesn’t deserve it,” Ronan argued.

I didn’t turn to face him, instead, I kept my focus on Jordan, taking in with curious interest the way he had reacted to Ro. He was scared. I wondered why. “Ronan, go and get the poster, and then we can send him on his way. The faster you go, the faster he leaves.”

Ronan protested again, but Mav was at his side as the first word left his mouth. He grabbed Ronan by the back of his shirt and dragged him away from the door, sending him up the stairs with a sharp, whip-like command.

Ronan cursed loudly as he stomped up the stairs. Mav leaned against the bannister; his gaze locked on the floor at his feet. He looked so sad. I stared at him, waiting for him to lift his head, but he didn’t. Minutes passed where we all stood in uncomfortable silence, that was until a loud crash came from upstairs.

Mav and I ran. Bolting up the stairs together to find out what the hell had just happened, leaving Jordan swaying on the doorstep. Ronan was sitting on the floor in my bedroom, the desk that I almost never used was upended, stationary scattered across the floor, chair over by the bed. He looked up as Mav and I paused in the doorway, a dishevelled mess smiling up at us.

---