No pressure, love.
Love? Is this love or an obsession? It’s hard to tell now that I’ve cracked the seal; now that I’m allowing myself to think. Allowing my thoughts of Paisley to breathe.
I want to watch you cross the room in those heels you love so much, letting your swaying curves torture me.I want you. Always. But I also want to look after you. I want to be the wall that protects you from all harm. Your home and your sustenance. Yes, that’s right; I want to feed you more than just my cock. And I want to cook for you. Don’t worry—it won’t be fruit.
I’ll sit you at the table with a glass of wine, then drop the napkin across your thighs while pretending not to look down the neck of your blouse. And as we eat, I’ll imagine all the things I want to do to you, waiting for a sign that you want those things, too.
I’ll wait for you to climb on my lap.
Wait for you to wrap your fingers in my hair.
Wait for the kiss that tells me what you need.
I’ll make you crawl to the bedroom. Watch your arse as you make your way there. I want to strip you. Take my time peeling you from your clothes, unravelling you like the treasure you are. I want to love you with my body. Mark my possession of you with my teeth. Hold you in my arms. Love you all night long. Love you all my l—
My fingers are frozen above the keyboard as I realise with a jolt of panic where my thoughts are heading. But then my phone begins to ring.Saved by the bell.
Or Mac.
‘Was I supposed to pick you up?’ I turn my wrist to check the time, his next words not really computing. Not quite making sense.
‘No, listen. This might be a wee bit of an odd thing to say, but that girl you were talkin’ about. Did you say you met her at that wedding you went to?’
‘Aye. Why?’ This isn’t like Mac. He doesn’t fish for information, and he rarely sounds spooked. If he’s got a question, he’ll ask it. If he has a grievance, he’ll probably get satisfaction on the rugby field.A grab of the balls. A punch in the ribs.
He sighs, clearly uncomfortable. ‘I’m no’ bothered if you’re getting your end away or as celibate as a monk. Your business. Not mine. Not Will’s. But we had the kids out for breakfast in Covent Garden, and I read something in the newspaper while we were there.’
‘Mac, whatever it is, just say it. I’ve got nothing to hide.’ Not anymore, at least. He’ll meet Paisley soon enough. They all will.
‘Aye, so. This girl you’re seeing. She doesn’t happen to be engaged, does she?’
‘No.’ My answer is immediate and partly a growl. ‘Why d’you ask?’
‘That poncy singer Ella’s so fond of—the ginger bawheid? He’s had an accident. Wrapped his Aston Martin around a lamppost while off his face.’
Oh, fuck. How many singing ginger bawheid’s can there be? So it sounds like Paisley’s ex-fiancé, but why is Mac calling me?
‘I remember Ella saying you’d mentioned he sang for the bride and groom that day?’
‘He did, but I’m not sure what you’re getting at.’
‘Just that he was there. And you metherthere.’ He pauses, letting the implication settle before he begins again. ‘Just do yourself a favour and have a look at one of the Sunday papers online. Maybe stay away from the tabloids, aye?’
Before he’s even finished his sentence, I’ve closed my email and brought up one of the Sunday rags, greeted by a paparazzi shot of a very bedraggled ginger singer being bundled into the back of a police car.
I start to read the article, blood beginning to boil in my veins.
Exclusive!
Robin Reed Looks “Devastated” Following Car Accident
Said to be “distraught” from the recent split with his fiancée.
Everyone’s favourite Brit Boy, the crooner Robin Reed, has been ordered to rehab by his management after a car crash involving three vehicles during the early hours of this morning.
Robin, allegedly under the influence of an illegal substance, was seen being placed in the back of a police vehicle to be taken to Wembley Station for further questioning.
According to management sources, Robin has been suffering from stress and anxiety after recently splitting with his American fiancée of two years, Paisley Byrne. In a further twist to the story, it’s understood Byrne reportedly had an affair with London property magnate, Keir McLain, which allegedly led to the breakdown of their engagement.
