Page 42 of The Story of Me
“Bet that was nothing. Bet you have better stories than that to tell, eh, George?” I shake my head at the memories.
“You have no idea, Jax. Seriously, anywhere I went with Sean or the band, the fans and the press would just go crazy; some of them are certifiable. I’ve seen fans climb through windows to get to them and the press hanging off roofs and balconies trying to get a shot.” I’m quiet for a few seconds; I forget sometimes the crazy, mad life that I’ve lived. Brooke brings me back into the now as she squeals; she’s recognised someone, but I’ve no idea who they are. An Australian-rules footballer apparently. I don’t even know what that is, so I take her word for it.
We’re on our second round of drinks and our third shot of vodka. I’m feeling considerably more relaxed now that there’re no photographers in sight; no one has approached me, and I don’t seem to be drawing anyone’s attention. Jackson told me that nobody here will probably know who I am, and if they do, they will probably just think I am someone who just happens to look like me. They will never actually expect the real me to be here. I laugh at the thought of lying and just making out I am someone else.
I see Jodie approaching us through the crowd; she’s looking right at me until I look at her then she looks at her brother and sister instead. I know it’s deliberate. She gives each of us a kiss and we talk about how the night’s going. It’s only nine-thirty and the place is already almost packed to capacity.
The dance floor is filling up, and Jackson and Brooke go off to dance. I turn straight to Jodie, saying, “We need to talk.” She raises her eyebrows as she turns and looks at me.
“How could you? Of all the people in Byron, in Australia. You can have your pick, Georgia, anyone you want and you went after Roman.” Well, fuck this.
“Hang on a minute. I never went after anyone, and I had no idea you and Roman were involved until Monday; not one person, including him and your family, told me anything.” I can’t believe I’m getting the blame for this. A waitress goes by and I grab two shots off the tray; I drink them both as Jodie watches me.
“And then what, what did you do Monday when you found out?”What’s she getting at?
“I bollocked him. I told him he was out of order; what d’ya expect me to do?”
“Brooke said you were in bed with him most of Monday, after you had found out.” That little cow! My mouth drops open, and I narrow my eyes at Brooke on the dance floor, now wrapped around the footballer she had her eye on earlier. Jax is all over someone I actually recognise. She’s a model from somewhere or other; she’s tall and gorgeous and currently has her tongue down Jackson’s throat, and he seems to be loving every minute of it. I turn back to Jodie, feeling a little betrayed by Brooke.
“We were on my bed, not in it. Nothing went on between Roman and I once I found out he had been involved with you. And nothing would have gone on ever if someone had just let me know about it. I’m sorry. I had no idea. I didn’t realise he was important to you. Even if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten involved knowing he was your ex.” She doesn’t say anything, just stares out at the dance floor.
“I loved him, and I got pregnant. He had already made plans to go to England, so I let him go and then got rid of the baby. He has no idea.” My head spins, a combination of her words, champagne and vodka.
“Fuck, Jode; I’m so sorry. I really had no idea.” She shrugs and lets out a long breath. Another waiter passes by and I grab us both a shot; we clink our glasses together and knock back the drinks.
“So I hear you have a new man; what’s he like?” She shakes her head.
“A complete wanker. That was all over before it ever even got going. He took me out a couple of times, and that was it. I thought it was gonna go somewhere, but he told me today that he’s just found out his ex-girlfriend is pregnant with his baby, and he needs to focus on that right now. Apparently, she’s got a fewmental health issues, and he needs to be there for her. He’s not getting back with her, but he needs to be on hand for the baby.”
“Aww, Jode, that sucks balls. He actually sounds like a decent bloke; that must’ve been a tough call for him.” She raises her eyebrows.
“Yeah, he is; hot as fucking sin, too, but oh, well. Obviously wasn’t meant to be, and I’m off to Singapore for work in January anyway.” Her mobile phone she’s had gripped in her hand goes off and she answers. Listening carefully to whatever’s being said, she replies with, “No worries, I’ll be down there in five.” She looks across at me. “I’ve gotta go. Enjoy the rest of your night.” She kisses my cheek and walks away, and I just know she’s still pissed off with me.
I wander over to the alfresco area and look out at the lights of Sydney. Jackson appears at my side, pulls me in for a cuddle and passes me a glass of champagne.
“I have a flight to catch tomorrow morning, and I’m gonna be a mess.”
“Stop whinging. It’s your last night here. You’ll be all tucked up in first class anyway, no doubt, so you can sleep off your hangover.” I suddenly get goose bumps up my spine as I sniff Jackson’s neck.
“Have you changed your aftershave?” He frowns as he looks down at me.
“No, why?”
“I thought I could smell Givenchy.” That fucking Cameron King is in my head again; I take a sip of my drink.
“That’d be me, Kitten. The Givenchy, I mean.”
My stomach hits the floor, catapults back through my body, bounces off my rib cage, travels up to my throat and plummets back down to my toes before settling somewhere around my pelvis. I actually feel myself sway, so I close my eyes and open them twice before I turn around and look behind me. He’s wearing a grey suit, a grey tie and a white shirt. He’s here, right here, in Australia, in this club. He’s right here, standing in front of me, just as tall, dark and handsome as ever, only with a few more flecks of grey in the stubble around his jaw.
“Fuck, Tiger, what are you doing here?”
“Kitten, really? That’s so not ladylike.”
“We gonna go there? We really gonna fuckin’ go there, Tiger?” He gives a little headshake and looks down at the ground. His eyes hit my shoes and travel up my body, lingering over my chest. He licks his lips as his eyes meet mine, and this little high-pitched sound, sort of like “uhh,” escapes from somewhere inside me. Our eyes lock, and we both just stare silently for a long moment. He reaches out and brushes his fingertips gently over my cheek
“You look stunning, Kitten.”
Without thinking, I reply, “You look totally fuckable, Tiger.” He closes his eyes and drops his hand to his side. His eyes suddenly open and move to land on Jackson, who’s shifting beside me. He puts his hand out.
