“I’m not telling you because you’ll try to pay me back.”
“If it isn’t money you want, I can repay you in other ways.”
And that’s how we end up booking room service from Gus’s suite.
ThirtyCruise Location – ToulonNext Port – PalamosTime of Departure – 16:00 (GMT+1)
The next day, Gus joins me in Toulon as we follow a historical tour of the city. We stroll along at the back, taking in the sights as Gus captures copious amounts of photos. I even listen, as instructed this time, letting Gus boss me about, walking ahead in my denim mini dress, sun-kissed hair tumbling around my shoulders as I hear the click of his camera.
He’s once again wearing dark clothing with his blacked-out sunglasses and sun cap pressed low over his forehead. I watch the way his body moves, the flex of his muscles, the way, even though people don’t know who he is right now, they’re caught on his aura, eyes flicking in his direction.
It’s so damn hot. I cross my thighs. Bite my lip.
He gets up from his low position; camera still pointed at me. He moves slowly like a tiger on the prowl. I’m leant against an old building unable to take my attention away from his lips, consumed by his lazy smile.
We’re given thirty minutes of freedom from the tour to grab some lunch before we get the cable car up to Mont Faron. I pick a small café with an array of fresh pastries,and we sit at a table tucked into a shadowy spot.
I’m one mouthful into my pain au chocolat when Gus’s main phone lights up. I don’t catch the number before he grabs it, but I do watch the way his face runs through a myriad of emotions, see how he squeezes his chin, tension returning to his shoulders.
He glances at me. “I’ve got to take this.”
“Ok,” I say, nodding.
“Will you be ok? I’ll go back to the yacht.”
“Oh. Sure.” I work hard to hide the disappointment on my face, forcing a smile as he rises from the table and strides back down the busy street, phone already placed to his ear.
I finish my pastry and coffee just in time to join the tour again. I check behind me to see if he might catch us up but when there’s no sign of him, I queue with the rest of the tour to ride the cable car.
I hold onto the handle as we slowly rise in the very hot, cramped metal box, looking out over the view. I try to spot him on the yacht waiting elegantly in the port. But I don’t see him.
I take my phone out to snap a photo like the rest of the tourists. The views really are magnificent. Except I notice a message from Millie.
Check this out!It says with a link to an article.
Heartbreak As Just4Summer Breakup
Following a statement by the band themselves, Will, Callum and Gus have officially announced that Just4Summer have split for good. It comes after a twelve-year stint of major success, following six albums, ten number ones, three sold-out world tours and even a hit, most-watched documentary following their career.
DuckEgg Records CEO, Nigel Burns, said, “We know this news will bring Just4Summer fans a lot of heartbreak. But every good thing must come to an end at some point. On behalf of the whole team at DuckEgg we want to thank Will, Callum, Jax and Gus for their time in the band and for the music they gave us.”
Fans around the world will be reeling at this news…
I don’t finish the article.
“Fuck,” I mutter, receiving dirty looks from the elderly women sat beside me. “Sorry,” I say. “Fuck!”
Now I’m uphere.
And he’s downthere.
No, no, no.
I’ve never felt more frustrated at the snail pace of anything in my life, not even the damn coach between Split and Dubrovnik. It’s infuriating as I push myself through the crammed-in tourists, much to their displeasure, so I can be the first out when we reach the top.
Once the doors open, I frantically search for the queue to get back down. The tour guide is yelling something at me, but I don’t register. All I can think about is Gus down there on his own, agonising over this announcement. Did he know? He looked so heartbroken when the phone rang.
I should’ve guessed.
