We head over to my parents’ home at about five. Benny greets us as we climb into the back of a black Range Rover with blacked out windows. I’m not sure who’s in the driver’s seat, but I say hello as we climb in.
It’s freezing outside and there’s just one lonely photographer standing on the path outside Cam’s apartment block as we pull away. I actually wish the windows weren’t so heavily tinted so I could flip him my middle finger.
“Who’s car’s this?” I ask Cam as we pull off into the city traffic. He puts his arm across the back of the seat, pulls me in and kisses the top of my head.
“It’s yours.” What?
“Mine? I don’t have one of these.” I sold every car that Sean and I owned, except Hilda. I would never sell her.
“You do now, Kitten. I bought it for you.”
“Why? I don’t need you to be buying me a car.” He lets out a long sigh. It makes my hair move, which gives me goose bumps and makes my nipples hard in an instant.
Sean and I had chemistry; ours was borne more from knowing each other so well. We loved each other and sex was one of the ways in which we expressed our love. We had times when things got a little routine, but it was never boring. We liked to mix things up in the bedroom. We travelled a lot and were pretty adventurous when it came to finding new places to have sex: planes, boats, cars, backstage offices, but what I have with Cam is something else altogether. Whatever we do, however many times we fuck, I want more, all the time. I just want more.
“I know you don’t need me to, but I wanted to. I spoke to Bailey and he said you only had that shitty old banger you used to drive. Seriously, Kitten, I can’t believe you’ve still got that piece-of-crap car.” I want to smack him right in the mouth for that comment. In a split second, I’ve gone from wanting to fuck his brains out to wanting to punch his face in.
“My husband bought me that car,” I say quietly. His head swings around to face me, his mouth hanging open.
“Oh, shit, Kitten. I’m so sorry. Honestly, I had no idea.” He reaches across and takes my hand. I deliberately leave it limp, resting in his.
“Kitten?” he says quietly, “Please, I didn’t know. I just… shit.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, obviously thinking about what he’s going to say next, just in case he puts his huge size twelves in it again. “I just want you safe, Kitten. If you’re gonna be driving about, I want you in a car with a driver who’s gonna be able to keep you safe from the paps and any other arsehole who wants to make a nuisance of themselves.” Now I feel bad. “I didn’t know your husband particularly well, but I’m absofuckinlutely positive, he wouldn’t have wanted you running the gauntlet of all those photographers every day in your old car, and anyway, Scotty here would never fit behind the steering wheel.” My belly does a little backflip at the sound of Cam talking about Sean. He does it so casually, like it’s not an issue for him. So why am I struggling with it?
I look towards the driver’s seat and can see that Scotty fills the whole area, his head skimming the roof interior and his shoulders are much wider than the seat.
“Why does it matter whether Scotty fits in Hilda? I have a licence. I’m quite capable of driving myself.”
“Did Sean let you drive yourself around?” Again, my stomach lurches at the sound of Cam mentioning Sean.
“Yeah, I drove myself if Sean wasn’t with me. Milo was usually with us when Sean was around.”
Cam lets out a huff. “And Dave was with you when Sean and Milo weren’t, Kitten. Don’t lie to me. I know most of the security team who worked for the band. They all worked for me and your dad at some stage.” I don’t know why I’m arguing with him about this. I won’t win. “I don’t know why you’re wasting your breath arguing with me about this, Kitten. You won’t win.” And I hate that he knows it. “This is your car and Scotty is your driver and close protection when I’m not around. Your brothers and your dad are on board with this and your mum actually insisted on it.”
I look up at him. “You’ve spoken to my mum?”
He shakes his head. “I spoke to Bailey. Your mum told him she’s worried the paps will cause an accident. She’s understandably a little paranoid; they all must be. I am. We all just want you safe.” I undo my seatbelt, climb into his lap, wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.
“Thank you, I’m sorry for being a bitch.”
He gives a little headshake. “It’s all right. I’m getting used to it.”
My mouth drops open. “You can be such a wanker sometimes, King.”
He winks. “Yeah, but ya love me anyway. Now get your seatbelt on.” He lifts me off his lap, sits me back in my seat and buckles me back up like I’m a child. We drive the rest of the way to my mum’s mostly in silence. I think Cam’s a bit nervous and truthfully, so am I.
*