When I shrugged, the suit felt far too tight. ‘Album launch.’
‘Not for These Exiles, though? There’s been no rumours of a new album – besides, I would have thought the rest of the band would be here,’ Jessy said with a light laugh that made my whole body stiffen, just for a second. ‘How are they, anyway?’
‘Fine,’ I lied. They were most definitely not. Our group chat was filled with nothing but bitching about their penance-making – though Ben was a little quieter than usual. ‘They’re fine,’ I repeated.
I wasn’t sure if I’d convinced Jessy. Her expression certainly didn’t look like I had, but she moved on.
‘So whose album launch is this?’
‘Cassandra’s Chorus. They’re supposed to be here by now.’ I glanced about, looking for signs the band had arrived. The two lads and their sister had supported us on the last tour, and I’d promised to come to their album launch.
‘Oh, people you actually know?’
I focused on her face and tried not to notice the smattering of freckles across her nose. ‘Not everything in this business is mutual backscratching –’
‘Yeah, but they’re not here!’ Jessy looked half-amused, half-scandalized. ‘How can you turn up to someone’s party and the hosts aren’t even here yet?’
I shrugged, definitely not looking at her lips. ‘It’s pretty normal actually. They’ll be doing interviews somewhere. Press always overruns.’
I could still vaguely remember being confused about this sort of thing when These Exiles had first gone platinum. Journalists asking you a thousand and one questions. Being late to your own stuff. Other people turning up to an event just to be there, just to be seen – it hadn’t made any sense.
Now it was pretty much the only reason that I went anywhere.
Jessy was still staring at me, nonplussed.
‘It’s just – it’s a way to support each other,’ I explained, incredibly poorly. ‘You know, in the music industry –’
‘Patrick Tetlow! And Patrick’s new girlfriend, how delicious,’ said a voice I didn’t recognize.
How the hell had one of them got in?
It was easy to spot them; the journos always looked like they’d had to clamber over a fence to creep their way into an event like this, which, now I thought about it, was probably the case.
I acted instinctively, pulling Jessy into me and away from the pap. ‘No comment,’ I said, sternly.
‘Oh Patrick, don’t be –’
‘No comment.’ My tone sharpened. Seriously, would these guys ever get the fucking message? ‘No … comment,’ I repeated, slower this time, so the idiotwouldget the message.
The look of disappointment that swept across the journo’s face was swiftly replaced with an expression of warm delight – as he turned his attention to Jessy. ‘Jessica Donovan, isn’t it?’
‘She has no comment for you either,’ I snapped, my grip on Jessy’s warm shoulder tightening despite myself. ‘Now get out, before I call security.’
Tension throbbed taut across my temple as I glared at the guy. After what felt like an age he stuffed his phone into his pocket and stalked off.
Only then did I realize three things.
Firstly, that I was breathing way too hard.
Secondly, that I had absolutely no desire to let go of Jessy.
And thirdly, that she was standing so close to me I could feelherbreathing.
Fuck. The way her breasts were pushed up against my chest … blood rushed down my body. Feeling her breathe against me should not be so sexy.
‘What – what just happened?’
The shake in her voice cooled me down immediately.
