Page 23 of Broken Rock

‘I’ll have a coffee though.’

She smiles widely and nods. ‘Great. What about Jove?’

‘I’ve brought him here before. I’ll tie him up on the patio.’

She unlocks the front door as Tate brings Jove around to the back. He ties him up and peers around Jove’s neck into the kitchen window. He smiles when he sees Chloe frantically tidying away dishes off the table and stuffing them into the cupboard over the fridge. She takes the basin of dirty dishes out of the sink and desperately looks around the kitchen before settling on hiding it in the cupboard under the sink. After brushing the stray crumbs from the table, she fills the kettle and examines a handful of mugs, dismissing half a dozen before settling on two.

He’d heard so many stories about Chloe from Dorothy over the years but doesn’t remember meeting her before. He’s sure he’d remember that. She’s so different to women he’s dated recently. They’d been in the limelight like him. Always performing in front of the camera. Every hair in place. Make-up perfect. None of the relationships, if you could even call them that, lasted longer than a few weeks before he got bored and called it quits. There had been a lot of sex but not a lot of anything else.

He never got to see the ‘real’ them, just the ‘on camera’ version. It’s nearly impossible to have anything remotely meaningful with someone like that. Then again, it’s not like he let them see the real him either. No one he’s dated has seen that side of him. The version of himself the public saw was the one they usually got.

The woman stuffing dirty dishes into the cupboard is as real as they come. Her long dark, curly hair is windswept. He’s sure there’s some grass sticking out of it but he doesn’t want to risk embarrassing her by pointing it out. She didn’t have any make-up on or if she did it was minimal, but she didn’t need it. Her jeans and shirt were nothing special but put it all together and she got and held his attention in a way no one has for a long time. Maybe the fact she doesn’t have a clue who he is was adding to the attraction.

Since he found fame, he’d lost a lot of his privacy. It was rare to meet someone around here who didn’t know him. Most of the locals had known him since he was a kid. They didn’t see him as a celebrity and that was part of the reason he loved it here so much - especially after his recent spectacular disaster.

When he’d come across Chloe, he assumed she’d recognise him. It wasn’t him being a self-important prick. It just happened more often than not. When he realised she didn’t have a clue who he was it completely threw him. For even a few minutes, speaking to someone who didn’t know him, didn’t know what he’d done, it was... freeing is the only word he can think of. They had a normal chat too, which was something he’s missed the last few months.

He doesn’t consider what he did lying. He told her his name but she didn’t react. It’s not like he was going to introduce himself and hand her a list of his albums and awards. She didn’t know him and maybe, right now, that’s a fucking god-send. It might just keep things uncomplicated, and that’s exactly what he wants.

It’s absolutely the wrong time to be thinking about introducing someone to his disastrous life. Bringing someone into his current situation would be unfair. It would absolutely be a really bad decision to even think about seeing her again.

He smiles as she tries to straighten her hair in the reflection on the microwave door, completely missing the grass poking from the top.

Then again, he’s not exactly renowned for always making the right decision. Recent events have proved that if nothing else.

∞

Chloe looks around as Tate appears at the back door. The room seems to shrink when he steps inside. It wasn’t built with someone his height in mind. He washes his hands in the sink and opens the fridge to grab the milk. Clearly he’s been here quite a few times. Then again, knowing her gran, most of the town would have been up here at some stage. ‘I’ve only got instant.’

Tate leans over her and reaches into the back of the top shelf. Whatever cologne he’s wearing is seriously intoxicating. He steps away from her and hands her a packet of real coffee. ‘She hides the good stuff. Don’t worry, she lets me have a cup every now and again.’

‘Milk and sugar?’

‘Yes and one.’

Chloe prepares the drink and turns around to place the cups on the table. How she avoids pouring both drinks over her hands she has no idea. Tate has removed his sodden hoody and is sitting at the far end of the table. His black long-sleeved t-shirt is nothing spectacular. It’s what’s underneath, and clearly visible under the material, that causes the issues. What she felt through his sweatshirt while she was hanging on to him is just the tip of the iceberg. His arms and upper chest are pretty damn impressive. She places the coffee in front of him and sits at the far end of the table.

He wraps his hand around the mug and stares into the drink as she stares at him again. His soaking hair is hiding his eyes so she extends her staring longer than is polite. He’s got multiple piercings up both ears along with quite a few tattoos up his neck, across his shoulder peeking out from under his t-shirt and on the back of the hand gripping his cup. There’s a narrow silver chain around his neck, again hidden under the top she has a building desire to remove. The hand gripping the cup has two thick silver rings - one on his thumb and one on his middle finger. No wedding band. As if that matters. They’re hardly on a date. More’s the pity.

Up close she would absolutely peg him as a musician. She could easily see him on a stage playing a guitar. He has that look about him. A kind of rugged edge that calls to her which makes no sense. Yes, he’s gorgeous, but she usually goes for uncomplicated and clean-cut. Tate is firmly in the dark and brooding category.

‘What do you play?’

He blinks and looks up at her, like he was in a world of his own. ‘Sorry?’

‘You said you’re a musician. What do you play?’

He brushes his hair back from his forehead then holds on to the cup again. ‘Guitar mainly, but I can play the piano and violin too.’

‘Wow. That’s impressive.’ The guitar was a given, but the other two take her by surprise. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look much like the violin type.’

He laughs at that.’ Yeah, probably not. Reckon that’s why my mate dared me to learn how to play it.’

‘I’m taking it you won that bet?’

‘Oh I won. He’s still more than a little bitter about it.’

‘Have you been playing for long?’

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