Текст книги "The Story of Me "
Автор книги: Lesley Jones
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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 28 страниц)
Chapter Thirteen
Kitten
Cam carries my bags down to the hotel lobby and waits with me for my car. There’s no sign of Jackson or Brooke ten minutes later when it pulls up, and I’m so tired; I just want to get in and get to the airport. As the driver puts my bags in the boot, Cam pulls me into him. He grabs my arse cheeks and grinds himself against me.
“I can do this now.” He bites along my jaw and I let out a little moan. “Now you’re leaving and I know we can’t take this further. I can do this.” He wraps his arm around my back and grabs at my hair with his hand, his lips move to mine, gently at first and then it just explodes, lips, tongues, teeth. I grab a handful of his hair and force his mouth down harder on mine. I hear a car pull up and we separate our mouths, standing with our foreheads pressed together. “Fuck, Kitten, you have the power to ruin me, never forget that.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” We both turn and look as Jodie, Brooke and Jackson pile out of a taxi. I’m a little confused at Jodie’s comment.
“You made it. I didn’t think you would…” I start to say.
“This is where you vanished to. You left the club last night with her?” What? I look from Jodie to Cam, totally confused.
“Have you no fucking shame? It’s the one year anniversary of the death of your husband and child, and you choose to spend the night whoring around with another man.” I shake my head.
“No, no, I’ve known Cam for years. It wasn’t like that,” I try to plead my case. I look at Brooke and Jackson, who are trying to hold each other up, without much success.
“Poor Princess Georgia, whatever she wants, she just fucking takes. I don’t believe this. You and him, I just don’t believe it.”
Realisation smacks me right between the eyes as I work out that Cam is the bloke that Jodie works with and has been on a few dates with. I look up at Cam as he starts to speak.
“Jodie, we went for dinner a couple of times. There was never anything between us and Georgia’s telling you the truth. We’ve been friends for years.” She puts her hands on her hips and looks between us.
“You know what, fuck the pair of ya. You’re welcome to each other, but just so you know, she’s spent the last month fucking my ex in Byron, so if it’s sloppy seconds you’re into, you’re welcome.” I feel Cam squeeze my shoulder but he doesn’t say anything. Jodie then gestures with her head towards Cam, but sneers as she says to me, “And he, sweet spoilt Georgia, is having something you never will, you spoilt little bitch. Cameron here is having a baby with his girlfriend back in England.” Everything sways and spins around me, then slows down, sound becomes distorted and I can’t decide if I’m too hot or freezing cold. Somehow, I manage to make my legs move and turn towards the car. Cam grabs my arm and pulls me back towards him.
“She’s not my girlfriend. It’s not like that, Kitten. Listen to me.” He holds my face in his big hands and makes me look at him. “She’s not my girlfriend. I’m not with her. It’s… you need to let me explain. We need to talk about this.” He looks past me to Jodie I assume. “You have no idea what you’ve done. You spiteful bitch, fuck off out of here. You’re sacked. I don’t want you near my club again.” I break free from his hold as he talks. “Georgia, wait, I’ll come to the airport with you. Let me just explain.”
I shake my head and smack his hands off me. “Stay the fuck away from me,” I scream at him. I need to get away. I need to get in the car and get away from both of them. He grabs me by the shoulders.
“Fucking listen to me,” he roars, but in a split second, he’s gone, yanked backward. I seize the opportunity and jump in the car as quickly as I can and tell the driver to get us to the airport. We drive away as I watch Cam and Jackson swinging punches at each other.
Chapter Fourteen
Tiger
A million thoughts rush through my head. I need to explain to her. I need to make her understand that it’s not like that. I don’t have a girlfriend. I’ve never had a girlfriend. I had a wife and then I had her, and then I had nothing, fuck all, and that’s what I’m gonna be left with again if I don’t sort this shit out and make myself clear.
Before I get a chance to say anymore, I’m yanked by my shoulder and spin around to face her cousin, the fucking Aussie prick, who if I didn’t know better, I would think wanted to get in her knickers.
“Get ya fucking hands off her.” Fucking idiot, does he think I would hurt her?
I push him away and turn back around to make sure Georgia’s not in the middle of this when the cheeky fucker lamps me one, right on the side of the jaw and it fucking hurts. I spin back to face him and land a perfect right hook on his chin that puts him straight on his arse. Turning back to Georgia, so I can jump in the car and get us out of here, I realise I’m too late and can only watch as she’s driven away into the early morning Sydney traffic.
“Fuck!” I shout while kicking the wheel of the taxi that’s parked outside the hotel. Then I’m grabbed again and the dickhead cousin is trying to get another shot at me. “Mate, seriously, fuck off before I hurt you,” I say as I push him away. The bloke’s so pissed he can hardly stand up, and if I crack him again, he’ll go down like a sack of shit and I’m worried he’ll hit his head. I’ve seen it happen too many times, drunken idiots, not knowing when to shut the fuck up and walk away, and here we have a prime example. He swings at me again. I barely have to dodge, but I push him away again anyway, and he goes back down on his arse. This time, I make sure he stays there by pushing on his chest with my foot and then put my foot on his throat. I don’t apply pressure. Well, not a lot, just enough to keep him down, but then I’ve got the two birds he’s with screaming in my earhole. Then they’re on me, fucking clawing and grabbing at my hair. What is it with birds? Why do they try and make themselves busy when blokes are having a punch up?
I don’t wanna get rough, but they’re pissing me off and the little one actually has quite a hard punch. I get them both off my back and grab them by the hair. I’ve still got matey pinned to the floor by my shoe and the two screeching women by the hair, one in each hand either side of me. When I look up, there’s three hotel security guard’s heading toward me.
“Do yourself a favour boys and don’t get involved. Take these three off my hands and I’ll walk away.”
“Let go of my fucking hair,” Jodie screams as she tries to kick me. I look down at her. Spiteful little bitch, she caused all of this. I let go of her hair and push her down on the floor.
“Hey mate, we’ve called the cops. They’re on their way,” one of the guards calls out. Fucking great, that’s all I need.
I look down at the three psychos and it suddenly strikes me how much they all look alike and how they all have the same blue eyes as Georgia and her mum. My stomach turns, my chest tightens and I let out a long breath. Just thinking about that fucking woman does that to me.
“I’m gonna walk away. I don’t want no more trouble. If you come at me again, I’ll break his fucking legs. You understand me?”
“Just get your foot off him,” Jodie says. I raise my eyebrows as I look at her.
“You started this, you vindictive little bitch. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you feel the need to say all of that earlier?”
She shrugs. “Coz everything Georgia wants, Georgia always gets.”
“So she wanted a dead husband and baby, did she? Grow the fuck up. That poor girl has been through enough, and if you three are her family, then you should know that.” She looks away from me and down again at who I assume is her brother. I can hear sirens approaching so I take my foot off his throat and hold my hand out to help him up. He takes it and I help him stand, at the same time. I let go of the younger girl, who then smacks me hard around the face.
“That’s for hurting my family, but especially for hurting my cousin. You’re a cunt, now fuck off and find her and put what she said right.” She gestures with her defiant little chin at her sister. “If I find out you’ve broken what we’ve fixed while she’s been here, I’ll hunt you the fuck down and kill you in your sleep.”
I want to laugh, but she reminds me so much of George that I can’t. Instead, I jump into the taxi that’s still sitting at the side of the road and give the driver the name of my hotel. I pull out my phone and call Georgia; it goes to answer phone. I knew she wouldn’t answer. Fucking woman drives me mental.
“Georgia, I know you’re pissed off, but we need to talk. Nothing you heard tonight is how it seems. Please call me back.” I know she won’t call me. Fuck. I can’t believe how this has turned out. How the fuck did I not join the dots and work out that Georgia and Jodie were related? Jodie told me she had a cousin over from England who had recently lost her husband. Georgia told me she was staying with her family in Byron Bay. I remember Jodie saying she was from Byron. Why the fuck didn’t I work it out?
I pay the taxi driver, head straight to the hotel reception and ask them to call British Airways. I need to see if I can get on an earlier flight. I need to get back to England and sort this shit out. Fuck it, everything I said to George earlier has gone out the window. I wanted her to prove she wants to be with me. I wanted her to want me like I want her, but fuck all of that shit now. Now I just need her to know the truth. I hate the thought that she thinks I lied to her. I hate that I’ve caused her more fucking pain. Despite everything she’s been through, she’s not as fragile as she was when I first met her, but I’m still worried that what went on this morning could all have been too much for her. I know she likes me. I think she loves me, but my fucking ego got in the way and I wanted her to prove it, but now I’m worried that I might have pushed her over the edge.
I change sharpish, throw my clothes into my suitcase as quickly as I can and head back down to jump into a taxi for the airport. I’ve managed to get on a nine-thirty flight. I should be back in England by about lunchtime Monday, not too much after Georgia hopefully. I call her again from the back of the taxi as we drive to the airport and again the call goes straight to her answer phone, voicemail, message bank, whatever the fuck they call it nowadays. “Kitten, please, you know I’m gonna come find you. We need to talk and talk we will, so you either get in touch or I turn up at your door. You choose, but I will talk and you will listen. I… I miss you already. Have a safe flight.”
* * *
Because of the last minute change to my flight, I can check straight in and head immediately through to the bar in the first class lounge of the airline. It’s only seven thirty but I need a drink. This is what she does to me. It’s what she’s always done to me. Georgia fucking Layton, the only woman I’ve ever loved. I order a double and knock it back, enjoying the burn as it slides down my throat. I take a look around the lounge, feeling a little disappointed she’s not on this flight. My phone rings and I pull it out of the pocket of the jeans I changed into back at the hotel. I had no choice. I had the Aussie wanker’s blood on my suit trousers and shirt. He bled on my two grand suit trousers, cheeky bastard. I hope the call’s from Kitten, but I can see from the screen that it’s Tamara and I want to break something. I’ve learnt that ignoring her calls doesn’t work, and right now, until I work out if the baby she’s carrying is mine, I need to treat her with kid gloves.
“Good morning, Tamara, what can I do for you?”
“I felt the baby move.” My heart rate accelerates. As much as I hate the circumstances, I’m gonna be devastated if this baby turns out not to be mine.
“That’s fantastic. How are you feeling?” I nod to the barman to pour me the same again and take a seat on one of the stools. There’s a woman with jet black hair and bright red lips sitting further along the bar staring at me. I turn my back. I don’t need her ‘come fuck me’ look right now. She ain’t bad looking, but she’s not on Georgia’s level. Nobody’s as beautiful as her. I run my hands over my unshaven chin and think about how she felt in my arms last night.
“Are you listening to me, Cam?” God, this woman has a whiney voice. Fuck, what if it’s a girl and sounds like her? Why can’t it be Georgia who’s carrying my baby, if that is, this is my baby, because I seriously have no idea how this happened. I’ve only ever had sex without a condom with two women in my entire life; my wife, and once with Georgia in my office. The last time I’d ever had my hands and mouth on her, it was fanfuckingtastic. I shift on the bar stool as I feel myself grow hard thinking about that night. It was wrong. She was married and I never get involved with married women, but fuck, no matter how much time passes, I’m hard whenever I’m around that girl. She just has something that calls to me and I can’t resist her and I know she feels it too.
“So will you?”
“Will I what?” Fuck off, woman.
“Will you be home by Thursday, so you can come to see the consultant with me?”
“No,” I lie “Take the nurse with you. I want to know everything they say.” We still don’t know if everything is going okay with the baby’s development. Tamara was hitting the Columbian marching powder to the tune of fifty quid a day for the first three months of her pregnancy. I’d sent her to a specialised rehab clinic where both her and the baby were weaned off the shit over an eight week period. And I’m now paying for a nurse to be at her side twenty four seven, just to make sure she doesn’t slip off the wagon, which is what she keeps threatening to do whenever I try and get through to her that we’re not and never will be a couple.
“When will you be home then, Cam? We’re missing you.”
“You and the nurse?” I’m such a comedian.
“No, Cameron, me and the baby.”
I take another gulp of my drink. “Tamara, the baby has no concept of who I am, now. Do what the nurse tells ya. Take your vitamins and attend your appointments. I’ll talk to ya later in the week when you’ve seen the doctor.” I end the call, finish my drink and try Georgia again. Fucking woman is so stubborn. “Pick up, Kitten. For fuck’s sake, you’ve made your point. I know you’re pissed off. She ain’t my girlfriend and I don’t even know if it’s my baby. Let me explain for fuck’s sake. I’m gonna tie you to my bed and make you listen when I get home. Just you fucking wait.”
As I end the call, I notice Dracula’s sister is now sitting next to me. Her lips are far too big for her face, obviously pumped full of whatever women have their faces pumped full of to make themselves look ridiculous and about twenty years older than they really are these days. I don’t think that’s the way it’s supposed to work, but that’s the effect they always seem to achieve.
“What d’ya want?” I ask her, annoyed at her invasion of my space. Although if she’s up for it, I could actually put those lips to good use. I’ve got a massive hard on thinking about Kitten and I really don’t fancy having it squashed in my jeans for the next twenty four hours. My phone bleeps with a text message. When I open it, I see it’s from Jodie.
‘Revenge… What a great feeling’
For fuck’s sake, what does that mean? Fucking women.
Morticia’s hand is squeezing the top of my leg as she leans in and says, “My, aren’t you popular.” I look from her hand to her mouth.
“Darlin’, you have no fuckin’ idea. Now, either get yourself in the bogs and give me a blow job or fuck right off to where you came from.”
She pouts her already pouty lips. I look over her face. Her makeup looks like it’s been laid on with a trowel. I fucking hate too much make-up on a woman; swearing and too much make-up are two things I can’t stand. Kitten was wearing too much makeup on Saturday night. Don’t get me wrong. She still looked fucking gorgeous; she always looks gorgeous, but when she showered and took it all off, she looked stunning. She takes my breath away. Even just thinking about her, I can feel my chest, and my balls for that matter tighten. Fuck, fucking woman.
“And what’s in it for me?”
Shit, I’d forgotten about Morticia Adams next to me. Her hand is now rubbing my cock through my jeans, which is now like a battering ram, thanks to thoughts of Georgia showering, taking off her makeup, her clothes. I finish my drink. “What’s in it for you, love, is a mouthful of my spunk; spit it, swallow it, rub it in your wrinkles, I don’t really give a fuck, now make up your mind, or fuck off.”
She gets up from her stool and says, “Meet me in the disabled toilets in a couple of minutes.” Fuck that. I ain’t waiting. Two of us in the one carzey, everyone’s gonna know what’s happening anyway.
“Go,” I say to her, “I’ll follow.” She takes three steps and I get up. She looks over her shoulder and shakes her head, but I really couldn’t give a fuck. I follow her down a short walkway and into the thankfully empty toilet. I lock the door behind me, and as I turn, she tries to kiss me with her trouty lips. “No, love, straight suck, no kissing.” She huffs as I push her down onto her knees. I undo the button fly of my jeans, but get no further when she pushes my hands away and pulls my cock from my boxers. God, that feels better.
“Wow,” she says, “someone’s pleased to see me.”
I shake my head at her. “Not pleased to see you, sweetheart, just missing someone else, badly.” She looks down at the floor and I wonder how many times I can insult her before she gets off her knees and walks away. I should feel bad, but I don’t. She offered. She’s the one who’s happy to be kneeling on the floor in a disabled toilet, when I’ve promised her nothing in return, so I don’t. I don’t feel any kind of sympathy for her.
I grab the hair at the back of her head and fuck her face until I come, all the while thinking of my Kitten and how she only ever took the tip in her mouth. If I ever pushed in too far, she would gag. Even giving a blow job, she’s elegant and classy and I love the fuck out of her. She’s nothing like the woman in front of me now, swallowing my cum, with lipstick and that black shit women put on their eyes all over her face. I pull out of her mouth with a pop, wash my hands and my dick in the sink, and leave her on the floor of the toilet. Luckily, as I head back out to the lounge, first class passengers for my flight are being called to board. I get in my nice, big comfy seat and send a text off to Georgia. Fuck, I’m gonna lay my cards on the table. I’m a mug, where she’s concerned. I can’t help it.
I love the fuck out of you.
I will talk.
You will listen.
We will be together.
I’ve waited long enough.
No more fuckin’ around, Kitten.
This Tiger’s about to roar.
I hit send and have a little chuckle to myself, ‘this tigers about to roar’. What the fuck was I thinking? If Benny or my brothers see that, they’d be on the floor laughing and they would never let me live it down. Oh, well, it’s done now. Let’s see what her response is, if any. Fuck, I hope she replies, or just reads it even. I just need her to know. Fuck, I should’ve just been honest with her Saturday night instead of playing games and waiting for her to blow smoke up my arse and tell me how much she wanted me. The lack of sleep, alcohol, the release of tension from the very average blow job I received all mean that I’m out cold before the plane even takes off.
Chapter Fifteen
Never in my entire life have I been so happy that I’m rich. I know it’s shallow and selfish and it makes me sound like the spoilt princess I’m trying to convince everyone that I’m not, but as I lay in bed on a private jet flying me back to England, I’m over the fucking moon that Lennon used some of my wealth and booked my journey home this way.
We’ve made two stops already over the past twenty hours and I’m now only a few hours from home. I’ve spent most of the journey either sleeping, crying or trying to work the fuck out why Cam would lie to me like that. If he knew he had a pregnant girlfriend waiting for him back in England, then why would he make all those promises to me? Was he out for revenge? Did he think I would be his bit on the side while he played happy families with his girlfriend and baby? Baby. Cam’s having a baby. Something I might never be able to give him. Something I may never be able to give anyone. And as much as I try to convince myself that I’ve now come to terms with the fact I will never carry a child again and I may never even become a mother, I haven’t. I never will.
I tell everyone I have, but it’s a lie and it hurts. It hurts so fucking much and that makes my tears start again. I hate feeling sorry for myself. I only lost my ability to carry a baby. Sean lost his life, and it’s moments like this that I wish I had too, but I didn’t and like I told Marley on the phone, I will carry on. With the help of my family, I will move forward. I was moving forward and then I stupidly got drunk and shit faced and sent that text to Cam, and then I made the mistake of going to Sydney. Then there’s the Jodie, Roman and Cam fuck up. What are the chances of that? As my dad would say, my luck’s poxed, absolutely, fucking poxed. I’ve never really known what it means, but it seems appropriate right now.
I draw in a breath and launch myself out of bed. I’ve faced worse in my life, haven’t handled it too well, but I’m still here to tell the tale, so I will move on from Cam’s deceit and let it be another lesson learned. Exactly like Roman not telling me about his relationship with Jodie. I’ve once again realised that I can trust no one, and that’s exactly how I plan to live the rest of my life.
I stand in the shower on the plane, contemplating all of this, once again getting angry with myself when I cry over the fact that Cam lied to me. Despite all of my wrong doings, that’s one thing I always thought Cam and I had between us, honesty. I told him from the start that I was still in love with Sean. Okay, I didn’t tell Cam that I was also in love with him, but I didn’t realise it myself for a long time. I did tell him further down the track, and I told him again last night that I am in fact, still in love with him. Finding out he has a pregnant girlfriend hasn’t changed that fact. All it’s done is hurt me yet again. My entire life seems to consist of hurt, pain and heartache. I’m sure I can handle a little more being thrown my way.
I step out of the shower, look at myself in the mirror and burst into tears. I’m totally kidding myself. I’m in love with Cameron King and over the last few weeks, Jackson has helped me realise that fact, and stupidly, it would now seem, I had allowed him to become a symbol of hope. I had no idea I was going to bump into him Saturday night, but I had planned on getting in touch with him once I was back in England to try to work out exactly what my feelings were for him. After seeing him Saturday and talking to him the way I did, I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I love him. I’ve always loved him. I’m one of those people, it would seem, who can love two people at once. I’ve loved Sean my entire life and I’ve loved Cam for the last twelve years. Whether it’s right or it’s wrong, it’s a fact. It must also be something in my nature that makes me unable to stop loving someone. I’ve never stopped loving Sean and I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving Cam, which basically leaves me fucked for ever loving anyone else and I hate that thought. I don’t want a life without love. There’s something in me and I assume it’s the same for most humans, that makes me want to love and to be loved. I never want to go back to the detached sex I had in my past, never. It was horrible and hurt me much more than it healed. What I had with Roman was okay. At least we connected as friends and we definitely connected physically; he was hot and just one look woke up my sleeping libido, but that’s all it was, a friendly fuck. I’ll always be grateful for the fact he helped me realise I was capable of moving on to some degree, but he’ll never mean more to me than a friend.
I decide not to bother with any makeup because I can’t be sure that I won’t be crying again anytime soon. I put on some clean clothes, pull on a baseball cap, take my sunglasses out of my bag, and go and take my seat as we make our descent into Heathrow.
* * *
Jimmie and Len are at the airport to collect me. Jim and I are blubbering snot bubble blowing messes the instant we set eyes on each other. The three of us stand and have a group hug for a full three minutes before heading over to the car. Len has booked a car with a driver so we can all sit in the back and talk. I give them most of the details of my time away, but I save my adventures with Roman for when I get some girlie time with Jim and Ash.
It’s Monday morning in England, and the traffic on the M25 is its usual nightmare. Ash has convinced Marley to go to my parents’ house with her and we are going straight there to surprise them all. My stomach begins to churn as we drive along familiar streets on the approach to my parents’ home, my home. I must become quiet as Jimmie reaches out and takes my hand.
“You okay, babe?” I shrug. I could nod my head, but it would be pointless. She knows me too well.
“Nervous,” I reply honestly.
“It’s only Mum, Dad, Ash and Marley, George. You’re not going to meet the queen.”
I turn and smile at Lennon. “I’ve met the queen twice, Len. She’s nothing compared to Mother.” He takes my hand and kisses the back of it.
“She’ll be all right. She’s just missed ya really badly. Actually, we all have.”
I nod. “I missed all of you, too, but I just couldn’t be around here with all those stories going on.”
“I know. I understand that. It pisses me off that they’re allowed to print all of that shit and yet don’t say a word when it’s all proved to be a load of bullshit.”
Anxiety builds in my chest as I think about the claims and the relentless press attention and speculation. Sean’s been dead a year now and I wonder if they will finally leave me alone. I’m not famous. I was married to someone that was; that’s all. I really don’t understand why anyone would be interested in me.
Lennon’s phone rings and it reminds me that mine has been switched off since I got into the back of the car taking me to the airport. Cam started to call me. I ignored him three times before I just switched it off. I turn it back on and it bleeps continuously as it lights up, alerting me to twenty-seven missed calls, nine voicemails and twelve text messages, but attention is taken from them to the conversation Lennon is having on his phone.
“Well your source is wrong.” I turn to look at him.
“No, I can’t confirm that.” His eyes are staring straight ahead and I just know that the call is about me when he turns and looks out the window.
“I’m confirming nothing, Jules.”
“Nope, nothing to say about that either, any more questions?”
“Then please call the office not my mobile. I’m on holiday.” He frowns as he listens to what’s being said on the other end of the line and his eyes suddenly turn and meet mine. “Fuck off, Jules.” He ends the call just as my phone rings. It’s Cam and my heart pounds so hard I can feel it reverberate through the leather seats of the car.
“You gonna get that?” Lennon asks. I shake my head and silence my phone. I look back at Len, who’s staring at me, but through me, and I get this horrible, icy cold sensation run up my spine. “I’m gonna ask you this once and I want you to be honest with me, George. I can’t put this right if you tell me lies.” I nod and I have a horrible feeling I know what’s coming. “Did you spend Saturday night at a hotel with Cameron King?” I want to throw up. The press and the fans are going to crucify me over this and I did nothing wrong, did I?
I nod as Jimmie takes a hold of my hand. I swallow, but my mouth is so dry I almost choke.
“It’s not what you think. Nothing happened. We talked. I bumped into him at a club and we were worried about being photographed together so we went back to my hotel, but we just talked, nothing else, Len. I swear. I wouldn’t have done that, not on Saturday night.” I don’t want to cry, but I can feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes. I try to blink them away and fail. I swipe angrily with the back of my hand and try to control the trembling of my bottom lip. “They’re gonna hate me for this. The whole fucking world is gonna hate me, but I swear to God, we talked and I cried a lot.” Jimmie remains silent but hands me a tissue.
“Why the fuck was he in Australia? Why were you both at the same club? Do you realise how bad this looks? For fuck’s sake, George, I don’t know how I’m gonna make this one go away.” I cry silently as I look down at my lap.
“She went to the opening of the club Jodie’s been working on. She wanted to stay home, but I told her to go. She went with Jackson and Brooke.” Jimmie squeezes my hand tighter as she speaks. I couldn’t love her more in that moment, my beautiful, loyal best friend. She knows me well enough to know there’s every chance I did arrange to meet Cam, that I did spend the anniversary of my husband’s death having wild sex with another man, but without hesitation, she’s got my back and she’s defending me. I’m so lucky to have her in my life. Despite the gravity of my situation, I manage a little smile.
I look back towards Lennon. “It turns out that Cam is majority shareholder in the club that Jodie’s been working on. I couldn’t believe it when I saw him there. We chatted for a while at the club, but we knew there were a lot of press about so we managed to get out of the back doors without being seen, and because I was leaving early the next morning, we went to my hotel. I didn’t want any more to drink. I’d already had too much and Cam was worried about photographers so we just went to my room.” I shrug. “We talked. I cried. We talked some more. I got my plane back to England the next morning and here I am.” Len rakes his hand through his hair. As he lets out a long breath, he shakes his head.
