Backstage with Her Ex (15 page)

Which was why this next conversation was going to shatter it all over again.

She stared up at him, eyes brimming with tears. Her hands trembled as she placed a finger on his mouth. ‘Don't say it. Just...don't.'

‘Mr Munro.' The airport rep tugged at his sleeve. ‘They're starting to board. There's just enough time.'

‘Mate, give me a minute. There'll be another flight.' But never another moment like this, a last moment that he wanted to treasure.

I love you.

He understood what that meant now. That subtle soft melding of souls, the sharp crackle of electricity. Laughter. A certain scent. Respect. A bone-melting ache. A lot of paper, too, it would seem, and files and stickies and paperclips and lists. And now, absolute awe.

Yeah, he loved Sasha Sweet with every cell in his body.

She was strong, stronger than he was, and she'd just proved she didn't need protecting. She didn't need him. And, sad truth was, he had nothing else to give her.

She'd hate him for doing this. But he'd spent a good part of his life doing the wrong thing, now it was time to man-up.

And she would survive, after all. She'd survived the worst kind of nightmare that put his problems deep in the shade, and grown into a beautiful woman.

He didn't know what to do with all this chaos swirling in his head, his body. He was way out of control.

That scared the hell out of him.

He looked deep into those navy eyes that melted his heart Every. Single. Time. ‘I have to go. The flight's waiting.'

‘That's it? Finished? You're not even going to try to make it work?' Hauling in a deep breath, she pushed her fist into his chest. ‘All this...us...and that's it?
I have to go
?'

‘Look at it logically. We both have jobs, futures, lives and responsibilities, thousands of miles apart. You hate my world and I don't...can't fit into yours. Opposites don't attract, they just circle each other for a while and inevitably they go in separate directions.'

Her fist grabbed his shirt and she twisted the fabric into a ball. ‘So what now? Thanks for the memories? Will I hear about it all in a number-one hit?'

‘I don't think so.' He took his life in his hands and ran a finger down her cheek, caught the first tear but didn't show her that he'd noticed. ‘You really are wired.'

‘One of us has to be.' She blinked. And again. And he just knew she was trying to stop the tears from falling. ‘Because I happen to think what we have is pretty special. No—really once-in-a-lifetime special.'

‘But it can't be for ever. I never promised you that.' Man, this was the hardest thing he'd ever done. By a long way. Burying his brother and his mother had broken him, but this...this was a whole other depth of loss.

I love you.
He ached to say those words, but if he did he would only make things worse. Better for her to believe she was a temporary fixture in his life than permanently etched on his heart. Otherwise she might do something crazy, like convince him to stay. ‘If you ever need anything, anything at all, make sure to come find me. Okay?'

‘Sure.' She couldn't hide the catch in her throat, the crack in her voice. ‘I hear the men's room is the best place to get you these days.'

He took her wrist, drew a small heart with his fingertip on the sensitive skin, something he used to do so long ago he'd forgotten, sending shivers through him and a lump to his throat. ‘Okay. Okay. Goodbye, sweet thing.'

‘Hey, well, at least this time you actually said goodbye.'

FOURTEEN

Not So Sweet Talkin' Woman!

Lobby group, Celebrities Against Media
Intrusion (CAMI), found itself an unlikely new advocate yesterday in the
guise of spirited schoolteacher, Sasha Sweet.

The apparently very private Ms Sweet,
Head of Music at Chesterton High School, learned firsthand the perils of
media fame when she landed at a northwest London private airfield,
accompanied by rock star, Nate Munro. The notorious bad boy of rock, whose
hits include platinum bestsellers ‘Sweet Talkin' and ‘Sex Me Up', and his
alleged new paramour, Sasha, were returning to London after a week's break
at a secret hideaway.

Their attempt at a cloak and dagger
arrival was scuppered when
News.com
reporter,
Malcolm Price, tried to snap them leaving the airport hand in hand. But Miss
Sweet, described by a former pupil as ‘shy but strict', very definitely put
Mr Price in the naughty corner as she rallied against him with a verbal
attack on media intrusion...

...Ms Sweet, however, is no stranger to
scandal. As the daughter of the CEO of maligned pension
company...

...The hilarious outburst, caught on
camera by an airfield employee, shows Ms Sweet jumping to Munro's defence as
he rugby-tackles the reporter to the floor. She then wags her finger at Mr
Price, no doubt threatening him with a week's detention...and a hundred
lines...

Just brilliant. Excellent
. So much for girl power.

Sasha lay back in her bed and dropped the paper to the floor,
unable to read the rest of the article again.

Stupid teary swollen eyes.

But she didn't need any kind of clear vision to see what an
epic mistake she'd made. She should never have gone with him to Italy. Crikey,
she shouldn't have sought him out in the first place, and she certainly
shouldn't have acted in such an outlandish way. Even if it had felt right, and
so good.

Glancing down at the crumpled tabloid, she sighed. But then, if
she hadn't gone she would never have truly known what love meant, that you could
feel safe with the most dangerous of men. You could finally open yourself up to
trust and it felt amazing. That one man could give you the gift of self-belief
and the courage to let go.

One man. Nathan.
Only ever
Nathan.

Damn him.
Did he really have to
break her heart into too many pieces all over again?

Her cellphone rang.
Cassie
.

Oh, hell.
Drawing in a deep breath,
she answered. ‘Hi Cass.'

‘Who are you and what have you done with my sister?' Her
sister's laughter caught Sasha off guard. ‘Have you seen the papers? You made
front page, second and fourth. And the video's gone viral on the Internet. You
go, girl!'

‘Yes and it's all rubbish. So I said a few things—'

‘A few? You were epic. You should see the comments...
sassy, sexy, siren.
You've sparked a whole new debate
about privacy laws. Famous people are lining up to endorse what you said. You're
a legend!'

Sasha cursed. She didn't want to be a legend, she wanted to be
left alone to wallow with her broken heart. ‘But they raked all that stuff up
about Dad again. I feel terrible. Have you spoken to Mum? Suzy? I can't get
through to them.'

‘Yeah. Suzy is not amused—she's been fighting off reporters at
the hospital and it's interfering with her job. If you ask me she spends far too
much time there anyway. The distraction will do her good. And Mum? She was
surprisingly sanguine about the whole thing. Time heals and all that.'

Sasha hoped to God it did. If only time could move a little
more quickly. She could do with a little healing. Okay, a lot of healing.
Starting now. ‘I was worried it might set her back. I remember what she was
like...before. I couldn't bear to have her go through that again.'

‘Hey, stop worrying.' Cassie's voice softened. She'd been
protected by them all and knew few details about the circumstances of her
father's death. ‘It was a long time ago, Sash. I think she's truly moved on now.
She'll get over this. And so will you.'

Maybe she was right—maybe Sasha was the only one still living
with the effects of the past. Not any more. Nate had seen to that. ‘Thanks. I'm
getting there.'

‘But hey, what does Mr Killer-ass think? Are you planning more
secret hideaways? Can I come?'

‘No.'
Gosh, that hurts
. Sasha
blinked away more tears. She was done with crying over him now. ‘He's gone back
to the States.'

‘But you're seeing him again. Right?'

‘No.' Okay, so she wasn't quite done with the tears. She
scraped back the wet hair stuck to her cheek.

Her sister gasped. ‘So what happened? He's gone? Leaving you to
face this mess?'

Sasha looked at the flashing answer-phone machine full of
messages he'd left as soon as he hit the tarmac in LAX. The ones that said he'd
got lawyers on to the newspaper. That he'd do everything he could to stop any
more information getting out. The ones that didn't say he was coming back any
time soon.

If he couldn't see that what they had was worth fighting for
then it was his loss. ‘I don't need anyone to help me. I'm fine without
him.'

‘So he has gone. For good?'

‘Yep.'

‘Oh, I'm sorry, sis. I'm sorry I suggested it, that I
encouraged it. I just wanted you to have some fun.'

‘I did. I really did. It was the best time of my life.' She
sighed. ‘But now I'm definitely saving myself for the slippers man. And I'm
prepared to wait a very long time.' For a man who'd never touch her heart the
way Nathan had.

Cassie's voice turned just a little too bright. ‘So, focus on
you. You are beautiful. Your body is curvy in all the right places. You have
amazing eyes, a beautiful smile and a generous heart. You are funny and talented
and have so much to give the right guy, you just need to get out—what are you
laughing at?'

‘It's okay, thanks, Cass, but you know me. I already have a
plan.'

‘And why doesn't that surprise me? Spill.'

‘That reporter needed telling—they all do. I'll never forget
the way Mum used to hide behind the curtains, the little notes they'd push
through the letterbox. The lies. So I've decided I'm going to do an interview
with someone reputable and put the world straight about what really happened to
Daddy. Tell the truth about the business, his colleague, the suicide.'

Her sister whooped. ‘I was wrong about you. You're one feisty
chick. Are you sure you want to put yourself on the line like that?'

‘You know what? I'm sick of hiding behind it. You never know,
it might help someone...someone like me.'

And being angry felt a damned sight better than thinking about
how much her heart had shattered.

Her throat almost seized up. ‘It's time for us all to have a
fresh start. They're always printing lies. Even Nathan gets his share of
far-fetched stories. Instead of ignoring them I'm going to turn this whole
experience into something positive.'

Once she'd found the strength to actually get out of bed.

Then she was also going to write a whole new bucket list. One
that definitely didn't include falling in love.

The sad truth was, with his passion and her planning they could
have done something amazing together, improved life for others like her, or
people like Marshall. After everything they'd been through they could have been
happy—the missing part of each other's hearts. If she'd been enough for him to
want to stay. If he'd thought that what they had was worth truly fighting for.
Clearly he didn't.

Which was a crying shame.

Because she did.

But even if she could turn back the clock she'd still fall in
love with Nathan Munro again, in a heartbeat.

* * *

Dario's grin was as wide as his bullish shoulders as he
greeted Nate from the glittering stage at the National Music Awards. ‘So you
just got how many awards?'

‘Five.'

‘And the night's not over yet...' Dario clapped him between the
shoulder blades and took a slug of very expensive French champagne. ‘You're at
the top of the game, man. Top. Of. The. Game. Best album. Best single. Best male
artist...'

Nate put this latest award on the table alongside the others
and stared at them all in dismay. What was he doing putting on a show? Smiling
and schmoozing.

Why? Because that was what he did. He acted his part and played
the game, never showing who he really was or what things really meant to
him.

‘Yeah. Yeah. So I guess I should be happy. Right?'

‘You're not?' At Nate's shrug Dario shook his head. ‘You're
not.'

‘Think I'm getting old, buddy. This kind of gig doesn't give me
the same buzz any more. It feels a bit hollow.' Without someone to share it
with.

Okay. Without Sasha to share it. He'd messed up again and a
zillion awards wouldn't make him feel like a better man, never mind best damned
male.

‘So what are you saying? What are you going to do?'

‘I have no idea. But I'm through with playing the wild bad boy.
People get hurt.' Mainly him, and those around him. Sasha.

She'd been the only one to see through the packaging to his
core. And she hadn't found him wanting—she'd believed in the best of him. She
brought out a side of him he didn't know he had.

‘Ah, mate.' Dario grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the
auditorium to the accompaniment of shushes and angry whispers. But what the
hell? It didn't matter any more. None of this. ‘Come with me.'

‘What? What are you doing?' Nate shrugged out of Dario's grip,
uninterested in playing games or getting laid. ‘If this is another of your
booty-calls, I'm out. I'm just not interested.'

‘I know you're not. You haven't been interested in anything
since you got back from London.' He grinned and affected a feminine voice. ‘You
don't call, you don't text...'

‘Yeah. Yeah. I've been...distracted.'

‘Well, you need to snap out of it. You're rude in interviews,
lacklustre in the studio. You need to pull it together, man. Unless...' His
oldest friend took out a smartphone and held the screen up to Nate. ‘This is the
reason?'

Nate's heart dropped to his boots as there, flickering to life,
was a video of Sasha in some TV interview. Sweet, strong, courageous and so
perfect it made his heart ache, she talked of her father's death, of the effects
that had on her life. Of her family. Her love for her job and the importance of
special-needs support. She was eloquent, beautiful.

Not once would she answer questions about their brief
affair
, as the journalist dubbed it. But he saw the
pain in her eyes. The same pain he'd seen as he'd walked away. The same pain
twisting his heart right now.

He missed her. Missed her smell, her smile, even the lists that
drove him crazy.

‘Classy lady. And she's got a big following out there now.
Quite the lobbyist. She's changing things, Nate. Changing people's opinions
about press freedom to walk all over your private life.' Dario's voice cut
through. ‘Sack me if you want to, but I'm going to say it anyway...I reckon you
need to stop acting like an idiot and start getting serious about a few things
too. Clean up your act. Stop pushing people away. Start letting people in.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I'm not going to get all California psycho-babble on you,
Nate. But you need to give people a chance to get to know you. I mean, really
get to know you. You've got a chip there on that shoulder and you're hiding
behind it.'

‘Nah, this is me. I've never been any different. Nate
Munro.'

Dario frowned. ‘It's been ten years, Nate. I've watched you
drink yourself into oblivion, do everything to excess, push yourself deeper and
faster into wine and women. And never once have you made a proper lasting
connection. Not once.'

Wow, this was an eye-opener he didn't need. But Dario was
right, Nate conceded reluctantly. He did push people away, unable to handle any
kind of honest contact or emotion. He'd realised it in the art gallery when he'd
looked round and seen strangers' eyes staring out of his so-called friends'
faces. Living in some kind of wilderness where he was thinking, acting but not
feeling. Not living, not really.

Wild, definitely. Sane? Not so much.

But Sasha challenged that. She fired feelings in him he didn't
think were possible. Bright light feelings, strong deep feelings and a sense of
belonging to something, to someone, something good. He'd never had that
before.

But he hadn't been able to handle it, preferring not to feel
anything, as he had for the last God knew how many years. Scared that he'd be
consumed by the feelings, the inevitable pain.

And so he'd done what he did best.

Ran away. Came back to a place that now felt nothing like home.
And she hadn't even been here but it felt empty without her.

Everything did.

He'd hidden behind excuses fuelled with alcohol and anger
instead of facing up to reality. Shunned real intimacy. Pretended that living
off the rails was fine, great even. That being damaged was like wearing a badge
of honour. The act had become reality.

Facing Dario, he took a breath. ‘Okay, I need you to set up a
couple of urgent meetings with my lawyers for tomorrow morning, first thing. And
then organise flights to London immediately after.'