“Thanks for helping me,” I say to Memphis and Royal when they meet me at the flat. “It would take me forever to unload and carry it all upstairs.”
“No worries, I think.” Royal peers into the back of my car and sees just how much I’ve got piled in. “Maybe I should call Saint and Noah.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls his brother.
I give Memphis a hug. “I’ve missed you. You should see how good the house looked by the time I finished. I can’t believe we’ve been there for over seven years; it holds a lot of happy memories.”
“We can make new memories here, and I’m going to help you find a permanent place to live. I bet you’re pleased your parents didn’t want the price they paid for it back.” He opens the door of the car and grabs some boxes.
“Drop that right now, boy,” Royal growls. “You’re not going to fuck up your knee by lifting heavy shit up and down the stairs. Saint’s coming, so all you need to do is watch.”
I grin. “Do what he says, or he’ll be spanking you in my new flat.”
Memphis grins mischievously, his eyes sparkling. “I don’t think I’d mind that.”
I shake my head, but Royal gives his boy a heavy swat on his arse, making him jump and laugh. God, I want that. I thought I might’ve been on the right track with Drake. Obviously not, if he can disappear without asking someone to pass on a message. Dare I ask Memphis? I think I will, but I can wait until the others are busy.
It doesn’t take long for Saint and Noah to arrive. Noah has bites all over his neck, above and below his collar. I’ve heard that Noah is into exhibitionism and humiliation, things I like alot and have enjoyed doing with subs in front of an audience. I know that Drake is all up for being seen, but he doesn’t give any hint of a humiliation kink.
With the exception of Memphis, we all carry the boxes from the car up to the flat. It doesn’t take too long, and while we did the grafting, Royal sent his boy to the Tesco Extra on the corner to grab some beers, and I order enough pizza to feed an army.
With all of us finding seats somewhere: the sofa, the floor, or a chair dragged from the little dining table set, we tuck into the food.
Memphis pulls a newspaper from the carrier bag that held the beer and drops it on the table. I stare at the front cover and the photo of Drake with Rafe fucking Quartermaine at a restaurant in Chicago. They’re laughing so comfortably; it’s obvious how easy they are with each other. That’s the man he’s in love with. I deflate; I don’t have a chance against him. They have history, a past that meant the world to them both.
“So that’s what he’s been up to,” Royal says, glancing nonchalantly at the picture. “I wondered where he was this time.”
“This time? Does he do this often?” By the looks of them, I’m not the only one aware of my squeaky voice.
“Yeah, he’s a bodyguard, as well as some other stuff. He’s the strong silent type. He doesn’t give much of himself away,” Royal says.
“Unless he’s strapped to a cross and having the cum fucked out of him.” Saint sniggers, earning him a dig in his ribs from Noah’s elbow. “Let me see that.” He leans over the table and turns the paper around. “That’s the guy Drake had at his place after he was beaten. I’ve met him. Nice guy.”
Noah gapes at him. “You met the biggest star about, and you never mentioned it? What the hell, Saint.”
“What? I didn’t know; you know I don’t pay any attention to that crap.” He reads the headline. “This year’s sensation, Rafe Quartermaine, with the mystery man he calls his best friend. I think we can put one plus one together and get a couple. These two are very familiar with each other. If you know who he is, then make that call to us.
“He worked for him a couple of years back; I always thought they were super close. It was weird. One day, hejust turned up at home again. He never said a word why.” Royal says, biting into the point of a pizza triangle.
I don’t know what my face is showing, but Noah gives my arm a squeeze. “He’ll be back home soon,” he says so quietly only I can hear.
I’m not sure how he knows that I have feelings for him, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. “I don’t think that will make any difference.”
Finally, this stretch of the tour is over—without any unwanted guests in his bed. Rafe looks exhausted. His usually flawless skin is pale, and the blue bruising under his eyes gives another sign away. I’m not sure he’s going to make it through the next stage. The European tour starts in two weeks, giving him hardly any time to relax and recuperate before he’s back on the road.
The three months have been exhausting, exhilarating, and loud, but with spaces in between where we could be quiet and peaceful in each other’s company. Rafe laughs melodically and smiles his beautiful smile. This man used to make me come on command, would pour hot wax over my most tender parts, and I only ever craved more. I don’t crave it from him any longer. A tall dark-haired man with sparkling eyes with a wicked glint has my interest now. But I never called him. I tried, even let it ring a couple of times before ending it, not sure what I would say. Please wait for while I’m off with my ex-Dom and lover. Yeah, that shit doesn’t sit well with another Dom. I don’t think I’ll be going back to him. Three silent months is a long time to be away. I’m a shit. I know that I put Rafe first; I had to. I will always go if he calls.
“There’s someone out there for you who won’t see the pop star; they’ll see the man you’ve become, and he’ll love you for you. Be good to yourself, Rafe, and think long and hard about what you want and where you want to be in the future.”
“I promise. Go and grovel to Finn for leaving him in the dark. Tell him I insist he punish you in the loveliest way.” He kisses my cheek, and I hold him for probably longer than I should, but he doesn’t seem to be letting go either.
I watch him walk away, back to the team that keep his crazy life in order, including the new bodyguard we picked together. When I can’t see him anymore, I turn and face the future.
As I push the door to my apartment open, I let out a sigh of relief. Home. It smells stale, but I can get some fresh air in. At least Pops came and cleared out all the perishable food. I haven’t got rancid milk to deal with. I drag my case to my bedroom and lift it into my bed, unzip it, and sort through the clothes, sorting dry cleaning from home laundry. Simple things that have always moved me from work mode back to civilian life and probably something I’ll always do and always drive my partner crazy.
That makes me think of Finn and how and what I can do to show that I’m sorry but sometimes work needs to come first. I think grovelling will be up there high on the list, especially if he saw any of the papers. I’m a selfish dick, after years of orders, I’ve got used to only having to answer to myself. After 3 months with no contact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s moved on, got involved at Bound, and found a new sub he wants to play with. I can’t blame him; I just hope he hasn’t. I should call my dads, too, but I know my body needs sleep. Well, shower, then sleep. I don’t even care that it’s mid-morning—that’s what blackout curtains are for.
As I stretch out in my enormous bed, a groan that borders on obscene escapes my lips, and my eyes flutter closed, my mind empty as I slip asleep.
It’s dark when I stumble out of my bedroom, my stomach growling for food. I may have something in my freezer but evendefrosting it in the microwave sounds too much hassle. I go back for my phone. Delivery it is.
