I don’t mention the fact that Jake inadvertently knocked me back in London when I invited him in my flat for coffee that time.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart. But I know what I see, and I see that boy wants you. Men like Jake can be very hard to say no to. I married your father, remember,” she smiles, winking at me. “You love Will, yes?”
“Very much.”
“So promise me you’ll be careful with Jake. You have a gentle heart my darling, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Okay mama, I promise,” I sigh picking my drink up and taking a sip.
Jake returns back to our table a few minutes later, but I feel on edge around him now after what my mum just said.
I don’t think she is right about Jake wanting me, but all she has done is remind me of my own growing feelings for him. Or as I should say reignited ones.
We don’t stay too late at the club, and leave at midnight, my mum and dad being tired after their plane journey and long day.
Dave takes us back to the hotel, and Jake decides to come too, leaving the rest of them at the club.
I kiss my mum and dad goodnight at their door, agreeing to meet at nine am for breakfast.
Jake walks me to my suite.
“Do you wanna come in and have a drink?” I ask him, getting my key card out of my bag.
“Sure,” he says. “Actually come to mine, we can sit out on the balcony. Stuart will be in bed by now.”
Jake’s suite is the only one with a terraced balcony.
Agreeing, I follow Jake to his suite.
He pauses outside his door. Turning to face me, he tucks a few strays strands of hair behind my ear.
“I had a great day today, but an even better night with you. This whole tour has been amazing so far … having you here, Tru. It’s … just like old times.”
My heart starts to beat rapidly in my chest, and my face heats under his unwavering gaze.
Forcing a clumsy smile onto my lips, I say, “It has. I’m really enjoying it.”
He stares at me for a moment longer. Trembles erupt deep in my belly. And for a stupid moment, I actually wonder if he’s going to kiss me.
“Let’s get that drink.” He breaks our gaze, and pushes his key card into the slot, opening the door.
All the lights are still on inside, and we find Stuart watching TV in the living room.
“You’re still up,” Jake says to Stuart. His tone is surprisingly frosty.
Stuart’s eyes flicker between Jake and I, and I read clearly in them what he thinks I’m here for.
“I didn’t think you’d be back until later.” Stuart switches the TV off and gets to his feet. “I was heading to bed in a minute any way.”
“I just came back for a drink,” I pipe up. God that sounds even worse now I’ve said it. Like I’m covering something up, which blatantly wasn’t going to happen. “Stay, have a drink with us.”
Stuart’s eyes flicker to Jake then back to me. “No, I’m fine. I’m just gonna hit the sack.” He steps back.
“Come on…” I coax, smiling.
He looks at Jake again, then says, “Okay. Just one drink.”
I ignore Jake’s obvious sigh from beside me.
What’s his problem all of a sudden? He gets on really well with Stuart, so why doesn’t he want him here for a drink?
‘Because mama was right,’ says a little voice in my head.
No, of course she wasn’t. I brush the thought to the back of my mind.
Jake’s just being a snarky bastard for whatever reason.
Stuarts grabs a handful of the mini spirit out of the little fridge. I love these tiny bottles. Helping, I get some cans of mixers, and three glasses.
Jake is already out on the terrace having a smoke when we get out there.
Stuart and I put our little drink collection down on to the table.
I opt for a vodka and soda. Stuart has the same as me, and I pour out Jake a neat whiskey.
Jake takes the seat on my left. His knee bumps with mine under the table, but he doesn’t say anything.
He seems a little irked to be honest, and I can’t figure out what happened to make him change from the sweet Jake just outside the door of the suite, to grumpy Jake now.
He picks his whiskey up and takes a drink, then puts it down and taps his fingers on the metal table.
The atmosphere feels a little uncomfortable.
I’m racking my brain trying to think of something to talk about, but coming up dry, so I almost heave out a sigh of relief when Stuart asks me, “So where is that beautiful mother of yours originally from, Tru?”
“Puerto Rico,” I answer.
“So can you speak Spanish?” Stuart inquires.
“I can,” I nod.
“So you know Spanish swear words.” An impish grin crosses Stuart’s lovely face.
“I do,” I smile.
“Ooh, teach me some,” he leans close to me, eager.
“How old are you?” Jake snips.
“Old enough to kick your ass, you miserable bastard.” Stuart winks at me. “Go on Tru, say, ‘asshole’ in Spanish.”
“Gilipollas,” I grin.
“Gilipollas,” Stuart tries to imitate.
Jake throws his drink back and pours himself another out.
“Okay, how do you say, fuck?”
Jake shifts in his seat, then picks his cigarettes up, lighting on.
“Joder.” I take a sip of my drink, soothing my dry mouth.
“Joder,” Stuart copies. He’s doing quite well with the accent for a beginner.
“So how would you say, ‘fuck off asshole’?”
“Vete a la mierda gilipollas.”
Jake takes a long drag of his cigarette, and the smoke billows past me.
I let out a light cough.
“Fuck that’s a hard one!” Stuart laughs. “Say it again.”
“Vete … a la … mierda …. gilipollas,” I say slower.
Jake stubs his half-smoked cigarette out in the ashtray, and abruptly gets to his feet. “I’m off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He strides away into the suite.
I look across at Stuart, confused. He lifts his eyebrows at me, shrugging.
I stay with Stuart for another ten minutes, finishing my drink, teaching him how to swear in Spanish, then I make an excuse about being tired, and head to my own suite.
I’m not tired at all, just confused as to Jake’s bad mood, unable to shake the feeling that for some reason, it’s me that he’s angry with.
Chapter Twelve
I’m sitting in the small audience at a TV studio in Copenhagen.
TMS are doing an unplugged show for a division of MTV which will be aired worldwide in a few days.
Everyone in the audience is a competition winner. The competition was put out by the station a few weeks back, so to win a ticket to see them perform like this is a big deal.
I’m lucky enough to be here because I know the band. Because I know Jake. And I’m also here to work too. But that aside, I don’t discount how very fortunate I am to be here.
The set is an hour long, and the guys are half-an hour in, playing acoustic mainly. Denny is off the drums, and is playing keyboard tonight. I didn’t even know he could play until now.
Jake is sitting on a stool, microphone in front of him, playing acoustic guitar, and Tom is playing rhythm. Smith’s not playing this show tonight.
Jake finishes up singing, ‘Microscopic’ another song off the ‘Creed’ album. The audience clap.
Jake pauses, lightly strumming his fingers over the strings, he breathes into the mic.
“Okay so I’m going back to song from our first ever album now. A good friend of mine told me that it’s her favourite of all the songs I’ve ever wrote, so tonight, I’m dedicating it to her.” He looks straight at me. “Trudy Bennett this one’s for you.”
I gulp down.
Me? He’s singing a song for me.
Shit.
I suddenly feel a little breathless. Then when he starts to sing ‘Through It All’, those hauntingly beautiful lyrics he once wrote, strumming his guitar, my heart starts to drum pure feeling in my chest.
And I feel a heavy mixture of emotions stream through me.
It is pin drop silent in here and I am spellbound to him.
I’m not the only one. Everyone in this room is eyes on Jake, and it’s in this exact moment, I truly see just to the level of power he has over people.
Mostly, over me.
I’m so totally mesmerised by him.
And so totally in lust with him.
And so totally screwed.
I have my notebook with me in my hand ready to make notes, but I can’t move. I can’t do anything except breathe.
Even when he finishes up the song, I’m still immobile.
And for the next half hour of the show, all I can do is watch Jake sing
Watching as he makes every single woman in this room feel like he’s singing to her, that tonight she is the one he is taking home. She’s the one he’s going to share his bed with tonight.
And in this moment all I want, more than anything, is to be the one he chooses.
We stay backstage after the show and have some drinks with the staff. The talk is business, mostly about when the recording of the show will go out, and how they felt it went. The general consensus is everyone is really happy, but in all honesty, I’m barely listening.
Jake is entrancing tonight, more so than normal. And I’m struggling to keep my eyes off him. Something has changed since the show. There’s an almost physical charge there, flowing out of me and heat seeking onto him like a bloody missile.
So evident and tangible I’m sure people must be able to see it. I’m kind of worried he can.
I don’t know maybe it’s always been there, but now, it’s heightened somehow for some unknown reason. So I’m keeping my distance from him, staying in the safe zone for as long as I can, until this thing, whatever it is, goes or dies down at the very least.
Because right now I want Jake.
I just need to keep repeating my Will mantra.
I love Will. I love Will. I love Will.
Jake’s still on a high from the show, all the guys are for that matter. Maybe it’s something about smaller intimate shows and the live recording for TV that buzzes them, but they are happy, buoyant, and everyone’s feeling it, including me.
But I’ve noticed that Jake seems even more pumped than the rest, and he is not ready to go back to the hotel.
I’m also feeling wired from my Jake hormones which are currently on heat, but mainly because of the serenade Jake did to me – I wonder if that’s what set me off, oh and also the accompanying two glasses of wine I’ve had all contributing to a horny Tru.
Horny Tru, who wants in Jake’s pants.
All in all, not great.
Well it would be great I imagine, but it’s not going to happen.
Jake doesn’t see me like that. I know he screws any woman he deems sexy enough – which is most, but to him I’m just Tru Bennett who he used to live next door to once upon a time. His newly reacquainted best-friend.
Best friends, that’s what me and Jake are.
I know we have the innocent flirty banter thing going on, but that’s all it is, innocent.
And of course I’m with Will.
