Wethering the Storm

Chapter FIVE

Today is moving day.
We’re leaving Jake’s old house behind; it’s on the market now.
We’ve been back in LA two weeks now, and I’m really starting to like it here.
I still miss Simone and London like crazy, though. The one thing I miss most is our girls’ night out on Friday nights.
I’m constantly surrounded by men here, so any girlie nights are pretty much out of the question.
I really do need to try and make some new girlfriends here. It’s just not so easy to make new female friends when you’re Jake Wethers’s girlfriend.
Half the women here hate me because they want to sleep with Jake. The other half hate me because they have slept with him and they want round two.
I’m currently not liked amongst my gender in LA. Well, worldwide, I’d imagine, because I’m the one who took Jake off the market.
So you see my problem.
Even though I miss London with all my heart, LA has one great perk: the clothes shops.
Stuart’s been giving me the guided tour of the best shops here. The man is a maniac when let loose around fabric, credit card in hand. Therefore, he encourages me to buy way too much. Stuart’s a hard guy to say no to. Pretty much like Jake in that respect.
I’m near to maxing out all my credit cards with my purchases. But they are all so completely worth it. Especially the new underwear I bought from Agent Provocateur, if only for the look on Jake’s face when I modeled them last night.
My modeling debut ended up turning into a marathon lovemaking session. I cast aside my self-imposed sex ban at his house, knowing we were leaving.
I also put a no-ripping ban on the new underwear. After his initial disappointment, Jake removed them the old-fashioned way, quite slowly in fact. And there were certainly no complaints coming once he got in the rhythm.
Jake and I also spent time this past week furniture shopping. I’ve loved every minute of it.
First item on the list: a new bed.
We bought a custom-made Parnian bed at Jake’s insistence, which is being delivered today.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful and supercomfy, but I did initially suggest that we could get one equally as good from IKEA. I thought it was such a large amount of money to spend on a bed. I know money is no issue to Jake, but it’s still taking a little time for me to get used to that fact. Jake’s argument was that if he’s going to spend most of his time in it, on his knees making me come, then he wanted the best bed money can buy. Got to love his crass. And really, what could I say to that?
Between bouts of fun and crazy spending, and keeping on top of work, I’ve started planning our wedding. Well, kind of. I bought some bridal magazines and looked at wedding dresses.
It’s the best kind of start, if you ask me.
I still haven’t yet decided whether we will get married here or back home in the UK. Mama is naturally pushing for the UK, but I’m just not sure.
One thing Jake and I did do was decide on a date for the wedding.
I will become Mrs. Jake Wethers on 21 July 2013.
Trudy Wethers.
It’s so weird. And I so can’t bloody wait!
The reason we picked 21 July is because it’s the date I went to interview Jake. We’ll be married a year to the day we fell back into each other’s lives. I still can’t believe how much has happened in such a short time.
So I’ve got a little over nine months to plan our wedding.
Plenty of time. I think. I don’t know. I’ve never planned a wedding before. To be honest, it kind of hurts my head when I think of the enormity of what I have to do.
Jake suggested I hire a wedding planner, but I don’t know if I want a complete stranger organising my wedding. It feels like it’s something I should do with the help of my mum and girlfriends.
Honestly, though, I have been secretly considering taking Jake up on his offer of Vegas.
The only thing stopping me is the fact that my mother would quite likely never speak to me again if I got married standing before a guy dressed as Elvis.
On the other big news front, Jake and Zane, who I’m still yet to meet, discovered who was stealing from the label.
The A&R director. No one I’ve ever met. His name is Scott Speed.
Scott has worked for Jake pretty much from the beginning, like Zane.
Apparently Scott is a gambler, and he had run up some pretty big debts. He stole the money to pay the not-so-nice people he owed.
That was his excuse, anyway.
For me, there is no excuse for stealing.
I saw how what he’s done has affected Jake, and that’s what really pisses me off. I get that Scott may have been in a tight fix, but there are other ways out.
Jake even said that if Scott had just told him what was going on, he would have helped him pay off the debts and gotten him the help he needed with his addiction.
Jake above anyone knows what it’s like to deal with an addiction.
The worst thing for Jake was that he had no choice but to report it to the police, and now Scott has been charged with fraud.
It’s sad, but Jake’s hands were tied. Scott had committed a serious crime, and if Jake hadn’t reported it, he would have been in trouble himself.
One good thing is Jake has managed to keep it out of the news. The last thing the label needs right now is any negative press.
But that’s all behind us now, and today we start our life together in our humongous new house.
Our $30 million humongous house in the Hollywood Hills.
I still cannot get over how much this house is worth. Or that I’m going to be living in such an amazing house in Hollywood.
It’s all still a little surreal.
Currently, I’m standing outside my amazing house, in my surreal moment, feeling a little redundant.
The movers are shifting all our belongings into the house for us, and Stuart is at the helm directing. I currently have nothing to do and no clue where Jake is.
He was here a minute ago but vanished, leaving me here looking like a lemon.
Almost all of the stuff being moved in is Jake’s. What little stuff I have, which Simone kindly boxed up for me, was shipped from London. It consists of clothes, shoes, makeup, accessories, handbags, and photos and mementos I’ve collected over the years.
Not a lot, really. It makes me a little sad that I have so little to show for my life in London.
Making my way past one of the movers, through the front door and living room, I go out onto the patio area, where it’s quiet.
Thankful I’m wearing denim shorts, I kick my wedges off and sit down at the edge of the infinity pool and immerse my legs in the water as I stare out at the skyline.
Suddenly awash with homesickness, I decide to call Simone.
“Hey, gorgeous!” comes her chipper voice down the line.
Hearing Simone’s voice, and London in the background, causes my throat to thicken.
“Hey,” I say, forcing my voice out.
“How’s moving day going?”
“Ah, you know.”
“You don’t sound very excited. I would be bouncing off the bloody walls if I were moving into that house!”
I e-mailed Simone photos of the house last week, and she was, let’s say…mega impressed to say the least. She screamed down the phone—a lot.
“Maybe Denny will buy you one,” I say, deflecting the conversation from me to her and Denny.
“Yeah, I’d be so bloody lucky!” she laughs.
Denny is the drummer in TMS and one of Jake’s closest friends. Simone and Denny met when I was on tour with the band. They’ve been together ever since, and are managing to successfully maintain a long-distance relationship.
How long they’ll stay long distance, I’m not sure.
I can’t see Simone giving up her job and coming over here anytime soon, even though for purely selfish reasons I wish she would. And Denny has commitments here with the band.
“I wish you lived here so we could see each other every day like we used to,” I murmur.
“Me too.”
“So why don’t you just move here?” I say. “Move in with Denny.”
“Tru, for starters, I don’t even know if Denny would want to live with me. He’s never mentioned it.”
“I bet he would. He’s crazy about you.”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “But I also love my job too, you know. I’m doing so well at work right now that I’d be crazy to throw it all away.”
“I guess,” I sigh.
Unlike me, who moves halfway around the world to be with the man she loves. But then, that man is Jake. The person I have loved for my whole life. And I guess I didn’t have to give up my job either. I’m lucky enough to have the best boss in the world, who’s letting me work transatlantic. Thank God for Vicky—and technology.
“Anyway, why are you on the phone with me in the midst of your move? It is still happening, isn’t it?”
“As we speak. I’m just…not needed. The movers are putting everything away, and Stuart is making sure everything runs smoothly, which I don’t mind, because it’s his job to do that kind of stuff. I guess I just…” I let out another sigh, kicking my leg against the blue. “Ignore me, I’m just being silly.”
“Not how us normal folk move, eh, babe?”
“Nope.” I love how I don’t have to say the actual words to Simone. She just gets me every time.
“You remember when we moved into the flat?” I say, the memory tickling me. “Just me and you, lugging furniture and boxes in. And oh my God! That bloody van we hired that kept breaking down!”
“Sodding thing kept cutting out when I was driving it!”
“And on our first night in the flat we ate Indian takeaway straight from the containers, using plastic forks, and drank the wine straight from the bottle because we couldn’t be arsed to unpack any plates or glasses!” I’m really laughing now.
“God, we used to have such a laugh!” Simone crows, sounding a little breathless.
“A lot’s changed since then,” I muse, my laughter quickly dying as I stare into the water.
“For the better,” she says. But it actually sounds like a question.
She loves Jake, but he is who he is, and he has the problems he has. I know Simone worries for me.
“Definitely for the better.” I smile, the thought of Jake instantly bringing it to my lips.
I hear movement behind me. Turning, I see Jake making his way toward me.
“My absent fiancé has just reappeared,” I say to Simone. “I’ll call you later, once we’re all settled, okay?”
“Okay, honey, speak to you later.”
“Simone?” Jake asks, sitting on the edge of one of the chairs.
“Yes.” I nod, pushing my phone back into the pocket of my shorts.
“What you doing out here alone?” he asks.
Looking away, I shrug. “Just taking in the scenery.”
“It is beautiful.”
When I turn back to him, I find his eyes on me.
“Come with me,” he says, standing. “I’ve got something I want to show you.”


Jake pushes open the door to the library and leads me through.
In the centre of the room I see a piano. A stunningly beautiful black piano.
“Is that a B?sendorfer?” I ask, taking a tentative step toward it.
Owning a B?sendorfer was my ultimate dream when I used to play. Jake knew that.
“It’s a 290 Imperial,” he says softly from behind me.
“Wow, it’s beautiful.” I run my fingertips over the casing.
“It’s yours.”
I step back, away from the piano.
“I thought you could start playing again.”
“No…I, um…” I shake my head. “I haven’t played in a really long time, Jake.”
“Your dad said you stopped playing right after I left.”
He did?
“My dad talks too much.”
“Why, Tru?”
“I dunno.” I shrug. “He just does.”
“No.” Jake smiles, coming over to me. “Not why does your dad talk too much. Why did you stop playing after I left?”
I feel a flood of emotion rush through me, all that bottled-up pain I’ve carried around for all these years hitting the surface, causing my skin to prickle and my mouth to work of its own accord.
“Because your leaving broke my heart, Jake, and when you cut off all contact, what was left of my heart shattered. Music was always our thing, and it just hurt too much to play without you. And then one day, not long after you were gone, I just couldn’t bring myself to touch the keys. When you left…I guess the music left with you.”
Jake wraps his arms around me, crushing me to his chest. “F*ck, Tru,” he chokes out. “I’m so sorry I left you.”
“You were fourteen, it’s not like you could have stayed.”
I’m seriously fighting back tears here. One wrong word from him, and I’m envisioning a teenage-style sobbing session.
“No, but I could have kept in touch. I should have kept in touch. I was such a stupid, selfish f*cker back then, so f*cking angry, and I couldn’t see past my own pain at losing you. I never thought how cutting you off would affect you. I should have come back to you the moment I turned old enough to leave home, and all those years since.”
“If you had, then the world would have missed out on the Mighty Storm. Everything happens for a reason, Jake.”
“I just wish that reason hadn’t meant twelve years without you. I f*ckin’ hate that you stopped playing the piano because of me. I want you to have this back, Tru. I want you to start playing again.”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head, moving from his tight embrace. “It’s been so long since I last played, I might have forgotten how.”
“You couldn’t forget. You’ll be rusty, but it’ll still be there. You are an amazing player, Tru. Natural talent like yours doesn’t just disappear.”
I gaze up at his face.
“Try, for me? Please.”
How can I say no to him? Especially when he’s giving me the puppy-dog eyes.
“Okay,” I concede.
The smile he gives me nearly cracks me wide open.
I take the seat at the piano and let my rusty fingers hover over the keys.
“I don’t know what to play,” I say, feeling self-conscious, pulling back my hands.
“I bought you some sheet music,” Jake says, retrieving some music books off a shelf. “You know, just in case you needed them,” he adds, handing the books to me.
“Any of yours in here?” I tilt my head toward the books.
“No.” He grins, leaning against the piano. “I made sure they were clean before I bought them.”
“What if I wanted to play one of yours?”
“Then I’ll teach you. First, play me something from one of these.”
I sift through the books and opt for the modern music one.
Opening up the pages, I flick through to the first song and almost laugh. My Adele ringtone.
I wonder if he knew that was in here.
Setting the book up on the piano, I read over the music, refreshing my memory with the notes. I surprise myself at how easily I can read the music.
Jake was right when he said I wouldn’t have forgotten.
I position my left hand over the keys, reading to play a C minor for four beats, then G minor with my right for two beats, then shifting to B-flat and G minor.
Okay, deep breath…here we go.
Crap, I’m playing and…it feels surprisingly good. Great, in fact.
I close my eyes briefly, just feeling the keys beneath my fingers, and in that brief moment, Jake starts to sing quietly along, and I’m transported back to a whole other time and place.
Opening my eyes, I see him smiling at me. He’s wearing the kind of happiness I haven’t seen on his face for twelve long years. Seeing him looking at me this way makes me fall into the music even more, and then it’s like I never stopped playing.


“I’m going to have a bath,” I holler down the long hall to Jake, who is in the living room.
“You want some dinner ready when you’re done?” comes back his reply.
“You gonna cook?”
“I’ll order in, smart-ass.”
Holding back a laugh, I reply, “Then, yes, please.”
I head into our bedroom, then the en suite, and turn the taps on our new, never-before-used bathtub.
Searching through the cupboard where all my toiletries have been stored, I find my bubble bath and pour some under the running water.
The movers finished a few hours ago and have long since left.
Stuart’s in his new abode, getting himself set up. So it’s just Jake and me in the house together, all alone.
Being alone with Jake is a big thing for me, as it doesn’t happen often. Now that we’re living together, though, just him and me, T&J alone time is going to happen often.
The thought sends a thrill through me.
Turning the taps off, I set the music system in the bathroom, selecting the new Killers album. I’m currently having a love affair with it, especially the song “Miss Atomic Bomb.” I pull my clothes off, dropping them into the hamper; tie my hair into a loose knot; then submerge my body in the bath.
The scent and heat envelop me.
Heaven.
I close my eyes and rest my head back.


I wake with a start. Glancing at the clock, I see I’ve been asleep for just over half an hour. Figuring dinner will be here by now—and I’m more than ready to eat, according to my rumbling tummy—I let the water drain and climb out of the bath.
Wrapping a fluffy bath towel around myself, I turn off the music and go into the bedroom to change.
I put on my favourite pair of comfy jogging bottoms and my TMS T-shirt that I got from the European leg of the tour.
Making my way down the hall, I hear music. Jake’s listening to our song, “You Started.”
I turn into the living room and find him waiting for me.
He smiles, getting to his feet. I glance at the scene around him.
My skin tingles. The sensation vibrates through to my heart.
Set out on the coffee table are open cartons of Indian takeaway food. No plates or cutlery, just plastic forks. A bottle of white wine is open and waiting. No wineglasses.
Scattered all around the room are empty cardboard boxes.
“Did I get it right?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
“You heard what I said to Simone?”
He shrugs. “I know things in my life are a little different from what you’re used to. I thought because you didn’t get a normal moving day, I would give you a normal first night in our new home.”
“And the boxes?”
“For effect.” He smiles, and his eyes sparkle under the lighting. “They work?”
“Absolutely.”
“You hungry?”
“Very.”
But now I’m not so hungry for the food, just hungry for him.
“You wanna try that new bed out?” I suggest.
“Abso-f*cking-lutely.”
The next thing I know, Jake’s body is slamming into mine, picking me up, carrying me down the hall to our bedroom.
He lays me down on the bed, hovering over me, propped up on his hands.
“I love you,” I whisper to him, in the dark. “Thank you for what you did out there. And for the piano. Thank you for all the wonderful things you do for me.”
He stills for a long moment, staring down at me, a blank expression wearing his face. I wonder what’s going through his mind.
“There isn’t anything I won’t do for you, Tru. Nothing I won’t do to make you happy. What I feel for you…it’s limitless. There is nothing before or after you. There is only you.”
I choke up with emotion.
I lift my hand to his face, tracing my finger over his cheek. “When we get married, say that to me as your vow.”
He nods, and leaning down, he presses a light kiss to my lips.
A sigh escapes him. “I know I’m not the best choice for you.” His words move over my lips. “I know I f*ck up a lot, but I promise I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”
“You already make me happy all the time. Are you happy?”
Lifting his head, his dark eyes stare at me. “Like I never knew possible.”
Then he closes his eyes, almost as if he’s in pain. Like at some level, it’s actually painful what he feels for me. I understand that, because I feel it too.
“Jake?”
His eyes open to meet mine.
“Make love to me?”
Fulfilling my request, he does just that. Making love to me like tonight is the start. Like Jake and I have finally started.