Trev chuckled. “If I were Hugh Hefner, I’d be wearing pyjamas and a housecoat.”
A laugh escaped me as I wrapped my arms around myself. “Don’t forget the captain’s hat.” I paused, furrowing my brow. “Why does he always wear pyjamas anyway?”
Trev looked at me like it was obvious. “Because he either just got done banging a blonde with fake tits, or he’s about to bang a blonde with fake tits.”
My lips twitched in a smile. “Ah, now it makes sense.”
Trev’s features warmed. “You’re too far away. Come here.” There was a sexy glint in his eyes that was hard to resist, but I managed to hold my ground.
“I’m still deciding if I want to enter this particular saloon.”
He feigned a look of offence. “I’ll have you know I run a fine establishment. Hardly any prostitutes.”
A chuckle escaped me. “Oh well, in that case.”
“Reya, just get your sexy fucking arse over here.”
I swallowed at the inviting cadence in his voice and stepped a little farther onto the roof. I walked around the hot tub as steam rose out of the water. Down on the street, people socialised outside pubs and late-night restaurants, but their sounds were muted, distant. I picked the champagne bottle up out of the ice bucket. A splash of water hit my bare foot as I held it to the light to read the label. “I’ve been had. This is Prosecco.”
Trev shrugged. “Same thing.”
I mock gasped. “Don’t say that to the French. It’ll be off with your head.”
He laughed, a deep, intimate sound, and reached out to take my hand. Pulling me down to sit next to him, he grabbed the two glasses and popped open the bottle. I watched the bubbles rise to the top as he handed me a flute. I lifted it in the air.
“What shall we toast?”
Trev winked. “Us, of course.”
“To us,” I declared. “A pair of English ragamuffins who somehow found their way to a rooftop garden in Madrid.”
“To us,” Trev echoed, and we clinked our glasses together. His gaze darkened as he watched me take a sip, the crescent moon glowing against the night sky.
Trev bent over to grab a strawberry. He held it just shy of my lips. I scrunched up my nose. “Don’t even think about trying to feed me.”
His eyes sparkled with devilment. “Play along, Reyrey, and I’ll make it worth your while.”
“If making it worth my while has anything to do with that hot tub you can think again. I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
“That makes no matter,” he tutted.
“Oh, yes it does. I’m not getting in there with you.”
Again with the dimples. “We’ll see.”
I didn’t bother arguing with him, because it’d only be a losing battle. Trev was the kind of person who had an answer for everything. If he wasn’t a professional free runner he would’ve made an excellent politician. Quiet fell between us as we sipped our drinks and enjoyed the view. My mind wandered back to the train journey and the incident with Callum and the little girl.
“What was Callum so upset about today? He barely spoke a word after that kid came up to him.”
Trev was silent for a long while, so long I wondered if he heard my question. I was still trying to understand Callum. He was the one member of the group that I just couldn’t seem to get a fix on.
When Trev finally spoke, his voice was subdued. “Around midway through the filming of our first season, Callum and Leanne started sleeping together.”
“Oh,” I said, though I wasn’t surprised by the news. It was obvious something romantic had gone on between them. I lifted the glass to my mouth for another sip. It was surprisingly good considering Neil must’ve gotten it from some late-night off-licence.
“It was pretty intense between the two of them, but they managed to keep things secret from the rest of us. Then we were filming down at the docks one day. It was dangerous, and though it was nothing we weren’t used to, Leanne took a fall and was badly hurt.”
I frowned, not remembering any of this from the show. I’d watched every episode and I definitely didn’t recall any featuring the London docklands.
Trev frowned, like the memory was still fresh. “We all panicked when we saw the blood. An ambulance came and she was rushed to the hospital. It turned out she was three months pregnant. She lost the baby.”
My gasp was so loud you could’ve heard it down on the street. Whatever I’d been expecting Trev to say, it wasn’t that. I felt acute sorrow and hurt for Leanne, but then I thought of Callum and how freaked he was about that little girl.
“They never found out the sex of the baby, but for some reason Cal’s always thought of her as a she. It’s hard for him to be around little kids. It’s too much of a reminder of what he lost.”
“Oh my goodness, Trev. That’s so awful,” I said sadly. “They never put any of it on the show though, right?”
Trev shook his head. “Believe or not, they wanted to, but Cal threw a fit. He said if they used a single second of the footage from that day he’d quit. We all got the behind him, so they didn’t have a choice. If we all quit, they’d have no show.”
Wow. That was certainly brave of them, especially considering the show hadn’t gone to air yet. They didn’t have an audience or fans, no clout whatsoever, but they still stood as a united front.
Trev shifted closer and draped his arm around my shoulders. “I know Cal can come across like spoiled brat sometimes, but like I said before, he has his reasons.”
“Yeah, I can see that now,” I breathed, viewing his behaviour in a whole new light.
Now I understood the constant tension between him and Leanne, the heightened emotions and thinly veiled resentment. Still, it was bizarre to think that the loss affected Callum more than it did Leanne. At least, outwardly it did. She could be feeling all sorts of things on the inside.
Trev seemed to read my thoughts when he said, “Cal grew up without a dad. All his life he’s been adamant that if he ever had a child, he wouldn’t abandon it like his dad did to him. Then the chance to be a father was snatched away from him before he even knew he had it.”
“I feel so awful for him,” I said, though at the same time I still didn’t understand why he was so brazen in parading women in front of Leanne. In taunting her. She did tell me once how she rejected his advances. Perhaps that was his misguided way of getting back at her for it.
Trev nodded and knocked back a swig of Prosecco. “Life is pretty fucking shitty sometimes.”
“My heart literally aches for them both,” I said, bringing my hand to my chest and rubbing.
Trev’s expression softened, his eyes journeying over my face. “We all have our crosses to bear.”
His serious expression and empathic tone indicated where his thoughts had wandered. He was thinking of what happened to me, my own traumatic experience.