The Mighty Storm

Chapter Fourteen




Where the hell is that music coming from?
Adele. Crap, my phone’s ringing and it’s in my bag in the living room.
I untangle myself from a very naked Jake, and make a dash for my bag.
Grabbing it off the sofa I rip it open, retrieve my phone and answer without looking at the caller display.
“Hello,” I say breathless.
“Why are you out of breath?”
Vicky.
“Because I was in bed and my phone was in the living room.”
“And were you in bed with Jake?”
What?!
“What?”
“Jake – is it true?” she asks with a conspiratorial tone to her voice.
I look around the room suspiciously. I’m half-expecting her to jump out on me any second now.
“Is what true about Jake?” My voice trembles slightly, and I curse it.
“Tru, stop evading – is it, or is it not true that you and Jake are sleeping together?”
My heart stops in my chest. No beating, no nothing. I think I may actually be dead right now. And it would so serve me right if I was.
“No!” I exclaim, coming back to life. “Why would you ask that?” I try to keep my voice steady, but it did wobble a little again, I’m just hoping she didn’t notice.
“You so are!”
“No. I’m not.” I put my best ‘I’m not f*cking kidding’ voice on.
I hear Jake move in bed. I spin on the spot looking at him through the open door.
Guilt stains all over me in this moment, as I look on at the very evidence of my betrayal of Will, before me.
So not only do I cheat, I also lie about cheating.
I hate to lie to Vicky, but I can’t exactly tell her the truth. Will has to be the one to be told first. And honestly, I haven’t even had a chance to sort it all through in my own mind quite yet as to how that’s going to unfold.
Then I look down at myself and realise I’m completely naked.
“Tru? Are you still there?” Vicky sounds a little concerned.
“Um … yeah. Just give me a sec,” I mutter.
Removing my phone from my ear, I keep it in my hand and tiptoe back into the bedroom. I pick up the first item of clothing I find, which happens to be Jake’s stinky T-shirt from last night, and pull it on.
But it doesn’t smell so stinky anymore. It just smells of Jake. It pains and pleases me at the same time.
Silently, I walk back through to the living room, closing the door quietly behind me. I sit down on the edge of the coffee table facing the closed bedroom door.
“Okay, I’m back,” I say.
“All okay?” Vicky asks, she still sounds concerned. And I feel sick.
“Yeah, I just needed a drink of water, was feeling a little dry … so why on earth do you think I’m sleeping with Jake?”
“Because it’s splashed all over the internet, my darling,” she says softly. “Pictures of you dancing up close and personal in a club with Jake, then there’s shots of him carrying you into a hotel.”
Oh, f*ck.
We were followed here by the paps.
Her words are thudding around my head, chasing on the tails of many, many other questions and fears I have.
How did I not even notice we were being photographed in the club, or at the hotel?
Because I was too wrapped up in Jake.
Why would they be so interested in Jake with me? It’s not unusual for Jake to be seen with a woman.
“They know who you are, my darling,” she continues as if reading my mind. “That you’re doing his bio, your name is in the article.”
Okay, so maybe there’s my answer why they’re so interested. Jake is sleeping with his biographer. That’s going to pique a little interest for the dirt-dishers.
“What else does it say?” I ask in a small voice.
“That Jake serenaded you at the show they were recording last night.”
“Oh,” I sigh.
“So that’s true?”
“Ahum.”
“Which song?”
“Through It All.”
“Oh,” she says.
Yes, oh, indeed.
“Okay, it also says here that he said you are the love of his life right before he serenaded you.”
“He never said that!” I cry.
I cover my hand with my mouth, realising how loud I was. I don’t want to wake Jake.
“He never said that I’m the love of his life,” I repeat in a quieter voice.
Goddamn tabloid journo’s.
“You know how they like to make things up, honey.”
“What else does it say?” I ask, cringing on the question. “Do they know Jake and I grew up together?”
“Hmm…” I can just imagine her eyes scanning the text in that way she does. And then I’m suddenly hit with stinging tears at the back of my eyes, and I just want to tell her everything. She’s one of my closest friends and right now I really need a friend.
But deep down I know I can’t tell her. I’ve betrayed Will enough already as it is.
“No,” she concludes. “It just goes on about you being his biographer … oh and the magazine is mentioned!” she squeals. “Um … well it just says you work here,” she quickly adds, recovering herself. “Okay, there’s the dancing together in the club … that Jake’s eyes were on you all night and no one else according to onlookers…” They were? “That he seemed really into you…” He did? “Showed absolutely no interest in anyone else whatsoever, and that you left the club together and went back to the hotel, and it finishes saying that maybe you’re the one to finally tame Jake.”
The one? They think I’m the one to tame Jake?
Not bloody likely. I don’t think Jake is tameable.
Then his words from last night play in my ears, ‘It’s always been you, Tru. Always.’
“Tru, are you still there?”
“Um … yes, sorry, I’m here.”
“Look this is fine,” Vicky impresses. “No press is bad press, remember, my darling. The media interest in you will quickly die down, and then you can get back to concentrating on the bio. If anything it will be good for the story.”
“What, that people think Jake’s screwing his biographer?” I come off as short and terse. It’s because I am.
And because it’s the truth. Jake has screwed his biographer. His non-single, in a relationship with Will, biographer.
“I’m just trying to look at the positives here, Tru.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I run my hand through my tangled hair. Hair that Jake tangled up. When he was in bed with me.
Inside me.
Shit. I’ve so totally and monumentally f*cked everything up.
And even though the shit has totally hit the fan, I still get a shiver at the memory of his hands on me ... of him inside me.
“I’m sorry, it’s just all a lot to take in with a hangover and a few hours’ sleep.” I blow out a breath. “I’m going to have to call Will aren’t I?”
“He probably won’t have seen the news yet. He’s more likely to read the Times than The Sun, right? And it’s not like you’ve done anything wrong, my darling, so don’t let that boy give you a hard time about this.”
I feel sick. I wish I was in the bathroom right now because I’m pretty sure I’m going to throw up any minute.
“I won’t,” I say. “And thanks for calling to give me the heads up. You’re too good to me.”
“Of course I’d call. I would always call. I love you, darling girl. You’ll call me later?”
“Of course I will.”
I hang the phone up with Vicky, and stare down at my phone in my trembling hand.
I quickly go online on my phone and straight to Google and search Jake’s name under recent news.
And there they are, the pictures.
Crap.
They do not look good at all. They look incriminating.
Which they are, were … kind of.
F*ck.
With shaky fingers, I close the internet down, and speed dial Will’s number.
“Hey, beautiful,” he coos down the phone. “I was just thinking about you.”
At the sound of his lovely voice, I almost break down.
And by his tone, I’m guessing he hasn’t seen the news yet. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
“All good I hope?”
“That’s all my thoughts of you ever are. I miss you,” he breathes down the line.
I’m wicked and evil, and I’m going to Hell.
“I miss you too … um, Will … I just wanted to give you a heads up … because well, there’s a story in the tabloids about Jake … and me. And it suggests that we are … um … sleeping together. Which obviously we’re not.”
Why did I say that?
Because you’re a coward.
No, I just can’t tell him this over the phone.
Will hasn’t said anything, and the silence is stretching.
“Are you still there?” I ask.
“Yes.” His tone is as stale as last week’s bread. “Why do the tabloids think you’re sleeping with him, exactly?”
“You know journo’s.” I cringe as I say the words. “Jake sang this song at his show for me and they stupidly interpret it as he’s serenading me. And they’ve said that Jake said some stuff which he most definitely did not. Then I danced with him in the club, as I did some of the other guys in the band.” A total lie. “And then my feet were cut and hurting from my new shoes, so Jake carried me into the hotel … and that’s all,” I add lamely at the end.
Silence again. I can hear him breathing down the line.
I hold my breath, nervously fingering the hem of my T-shirt.
Jake’s T-shirt.
I’m the worst kind of person.
“And there’s definitely nothing for me to be worried about?” he finally asks, his voice tentative, wary.
“No, of course there isn’t, baby.”
I’m evil, pure evil.
I hear him exhale. “Then it doesn’t matter. Don’t worry yourself with it, darling.”
“Well, I’m just worried about you … that it will cause you some problems. You know, stick from the guys at work.”
“It’s not your fault, Tru.” His voice is soft. “You haven’t done anything wrong, so who cares what the papers say, or the dickheads I work with. They’ll soon get bored and move onto to something else when they realise there’s nothing in it.”
The bedroom opens and I glance up to see Jake standing here in all his glory, before me.
Crap.
“Will,” I mouth to him, pointing my finger to the phone, which is now pressed firmly up against my ear.
His happy face drops, and he turns and goes back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
And I feel sicker from that one look on his face, than I have from anything I have heard and said since I woke.
“So we’re okay?” I murmur to Will.
“We’re more than okay. I’m sorry, darling, but I have to go, I’ve got a meeting and they’re calling me in now.”
“Of course. Go. I’ll call you later.”
“Love you,” he says.
“Love you too.”
I hang up the phone and drop my head into my hands.
Then taking a deep breath, I get up and go to see Jake, with absolutely no clue what I’m going to say to him.
He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing his boxer shorts, and the TV is on. One quick glance tells me it’s the Entertainment Channel.
“So we made the news,” he says, gesturing to the TV with the remote. His eyebrow is raised, but I can see the wary in his glance. “Was that what the phone call was about?”
He says this like it’s a normal thing. But then I guess to him it is.
“Yes,” I answer, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside him. “Vicky called to tell me about the story, and I thought I should call Will – you know.”
“So … um … did you tell him about us?” His voice is soft from beside me.
“No! Of course not!” I turn, looking at him horrified.
His face hardens, and I instantly see how bad that sounded.
“I didn’t realise the thought of me and you together was so bad,” he bites back.
Shit, he’s hurt.
“No, that’s not what I meant – I just … it’s complicated,” I sigh.
He brushes my hair back over my shoulder, his fingertips skimming over the skin on my neck. “Are you ever going to tell him what happened between us?”
I lift my eyes to his. “Yes…no…I don’t know,” I shake my head, disconsolately. Staring down at my toes, I curl them into the carpet.
We sit in silence for a long moment.
I turn to face Jake, but he’s not looking at me, his eyes are staring blankly at the TV.
“I just … I don’t even know what’s going on between you and me, Jake. I don’t know what this is.” I point my finger between the both of us.
He drags his eyes from the TV to mine, and he does not look happy in the least. “You don’t know what this is? Sorry, was I alone in that bed last night?” His eyes flick to the very spot where we had sex only hours ago.
“No, of course not. But this is your MO, Jake. This is just what you do.” I signal to the very same spot.
He climbs up off the bed, leaving me feeling a little bereft.
“Yeah, I always sleep with my best friends just for the hell of it. I f*ck Denny and Tom all the time.”
Okay so that’s pissed me off.
“Well how the hell am I supposed to know what you do and don’t do, Jake? What your guidelines to sex are? You generally screw anything in a skirt!” My voice is raised, and I’m on my feet now facing him, the bed between us.
He gives me a long, hard stare. “Nice, Tru. Real nice.”
“Well it’s the truth!”
“Yeah, well that may be, but you’re not just any girl. You’re my girl.”
“What do you mean – I’m your girl?”
“You know exactly what I mean.” His gaze fixes onto mine.
I lose my breath and my stomach tightens.
“And at least I was always straight with those girls. They knew the score, I f*cked them, showed them the time of their lives – they went home and I never saw them again – end of.”
“God, you’re such an arrogant prick!” I yell. “And wait – hang on – what? You’re saying I wasn’t straight with you?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I drag my fingers through my hair. “I never said I was going to leave Will, and you never asked me too.”
“Un-f*cking-believable!” He picks his jeans up off the floor and starts pulling them on.
My heart is pumping hard in my chest.
“Jesus Christ, Jake, just what exactly do you want from me?! You want me to leave Will so I can become your f*ck buddy – your girl,” I air quote. “While writing your bio, and you get to carry on living your rock star lifestyle, screwing anything that moves!”
He pauses buttoning his jeans up and he stares across at me. The stormy look in his eyes makes everything in me come to an abrupt halt.
“I haven’t been near anyone since you came back into my life, Tru.” He runs his hand through his hair, hanging it off the back of his neck, he exhales loudly.
All I can do is stare at him, my blood heating, goose bumps racing across my skin.
“You ask what I want from you?” His eyes move to my lips, then my eyes. “I want you, Tru. I just want you. All day, every day.”
His words are so simple, so easy.
My heart stutters.
I’m stunned. I literally don’t know what to say.
He wants me? I wasn’t just another lay to him.
I have waited more than a decade to hear Jake say he wants me, and now, here, at quite possibly the worst time in my life he could say it … and he’s saying it, and I have no clue how to respond.
“What?” is the best I can muster up.
“I get it Tru, it was a one time thing for you, it’s fine – you want to stay with Will. Why would you want me?” he mutters, backing up, turning for the door.
It’s clearly not fine. And he clearly doesn’t get it. I’m not entirely sure I do.
One thing I do know is everything has just got so much more complicated than I could have ever imagined. But a very big part of me doesn’t care. Because he doesn’t just want one night. Jake wants more. He wants me.
“No. Wait.” I rush forward, grabbing hold of his arm, stopping him. “You’ve got it wrong. I thought this was just a one off for you. I didn’t know this … us … that you wanted an … us.”
He stares down at me with his blue, blue eyes. “It’s all I want.”
My heart sighs and scatters across the floor.
I look up into his eyes. “I’ve wanted you for the last decade, Jake. I want to be with you.”
He stares down at me, hope evident in his eyes. “And Will?”
Will.
“I’ll talk to him,” I swallow. “When I go back home after the tour. I’ll talk to him then.”
He frowns.
“I can’t do it over the phone, Jake. He deserves more than that from me, and it’s only five days away.”
He nods, but I can see the reluctance in his agreement.
Then he takes my face in his hands and leans his mouth down to mine and kisses me. A long, slow delicious kiss.
My whole body responds to him.
“So you’re mine?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” I breathe, barely believing I’m saying the words, that this is even happening.
“You’re wearing my T-shirt.” His traces his finger over the fabric on my breast and my nipple instantly hardens. “I like you in my clothes … but I also like you out of them.” He takes hold of the hem of his T-shirt, his fingers skimming my skin as he lifts it over my head, dropping it to the floor. “But I like being inside you even more,” he whispers, pulling me up tight against his firm body.
He starts to kiss my neck, as he backs me up toward the bed. “You didn’t have any plans for today did you?” he murmurs against my skin.
“Um…no.” Even if I did they would have been cancelled for sure.
“Good. Because you’re not leaving this room today, and neither am I.”
He picks me up, putting me on the bed, he pulls his jeans and boxer shorts off in one, and climbs on top of me, ready for round two.
And once again, Will and my life back in the UK disappear off into the ether.