Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“I put out a statement,” he’d told me as we drove down a winding country road.
“What did you run with?” I had a feeling no one would buy a simple slip ‘n’ fall.
From the silence that swallowed the car, I suspected Drew was afraid of my reaction to his answer.
“Drew,” I pressed.
“Look…I discussed it with Helen, and we decided to go with…the truth.”
I gasped in a breath like someone had just removed their hand from my mouth. “Oh…wow. Okay.” I wasn’t shouting. Huh. How about that. I’d surprised myself, as well as Drew it seemed, by the way he kept flipping his gaze between me and the road.
“We just thought, well, after the way you handled Ricky Byrne, and the public reaction to it…”
“No, I get it. I get it.” And I did. Still, my pulse raced, my mind overwhelmed by the revelations.
“And don’t be pissed at Helen for not telling you. She didn’t wanna burden you while you were, ya know, healing.”
“Yeah, sure. I get that, too.”
Shit. The world knew I was fucking crazy. Whew. That was…not as bad as I’d thought, actually.
“What the hell did they do to you in there? They been putting that electroshock shit on you?”
I looked to Drew, expression screwed. “What do you mean?”
“You should be threatening to kick my ass right about now. I mean, we both know you could never do it, but you should be threatening.”
I laughed. He was right. “I think it’s the acupuncture. It’s cleansed my chi.”
“I cleanse my chi for all the boys. It’s never done much for my temper, though.”
Trying to keep the grin off my face bordered on painful. “You’re a bad, bad man, Drew Holland. Bad. Vile.”
“I know,” he agreed proudly. “The absolute worst, but you’re crazy so you can’t afford to be picky.”
“Fuck you,” I said, chuckling.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Hu. Look what happened last time.”
“I…you win. I’m taking a nap.” Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the window, giving up. Drew was relentless. Exhausting in large doses. “Wake me when we’re close to Helen.”
“Is that the last of them?” Helen asked as I placed my phone, which I’d set to silent, on the nightstand.
“The important ones.” I was surprised my phone hadn’t exploded from the amount of traffic that had run through it today alone. I’d ignored most of it, the obligatory glad you’re on the mend texts from people who’d never bothered to ask me how I was to my face a single time in their lives, the work-related crap, and the group chats I never responded to. I did, however, call Ezra, before replying to members of my band and people from the label I worked with often. My people – the ones who gave a damn.
“You’re here,” Helen whispered, draping an arm over my bare waist. We were in bed. Alone. Together. Naked. We’d fucked twice already, made love once. She was perfect. We were perfect.
I turned my head, faced her, felt her sweet breath on my face. “I’m here.”
“I don’t want to go to sleep.”
“No?” I questioned, stroking her back. She had the softest skin. I could touch it for hours…forever.
“Time goes too fast, and then we’ll have to get up, be apart.”
A short, sharp sigh blew from my nose. I didn’t like that word. Apart. Of course, we couldn’t live our lives glued at the hip. I had music to make, tours to perform. Helen had clothes to design, clients to dress. But… “Live with me,” I said, shifting onto my side, pulling her into me, her supple breasts moulding into my chest. “Sell your house, use it for storage, work, whatever…but stay here. Travel with me when you’re not working. Then, even when we’re apart, we’ll always come home to each other. Say you’ll come home to me, Heli.”
My heart raced, hammered inside my chest so hard I was certain she’d feel it against her own. I had no idea what to expect from her. Would she protest? Argue about the cost, about being a kept woman…which was bullshit.
Her pink lips, a tight line at first, began to quiver, before slowly curling into my favourite smile. “Okay!” she squealed, crumpling in on herself with excitement.
“Yeah?” I sat up, my body unable to contain the energy running through it.
Helen joined me, straddled my lap, before grabbing my face and slamming her lips to mine. “Yes!”
She hadn’t protested. Didn’t argue. Turned out, in that moment, Helen Jenkins, my best friend in the entire world, showed me what dreams were really made of…and that they definitely did come true.
Epilogue
Helen
Two years later…
“Helen Jenkins has quickly become one of fashion’s most sought after designers after her collection, Dare by Jenkins, was launched at this year’s New York Fashion Week…” The words, read enthusiastically by Chrissie, were being pulled from Vogue magazine.