The Story of Me (33 page)

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Authors: Lesley Jones

BOOK: The Story of Me
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“Are you finished?” I nod. “Good.” He moves over to the chair and moves me so he can sit in it, then he pulls me down so I’m sitting between his open legs. He moves the mouse around on the desk and the computer screen comes to life. Houses. He’s been in here looking at houses. “Any of these you fancy taking a closer look at, Kitten?” I turn and look at him,

“Cam…”

He shakes his head. “It’s not up for discussion. We’re buying a house. I bought this place purely for the convenience, but it’s not a home. A home is what me and you are gonna make.” He pulls me so I’m sitting across his lap. “We’re gonna buy one of these and turn it into our home, together.” He kisses me gently on the mouth. “These are all close to your mum and dad. I assumed that’s where you’d want to be, but we can look elsewhere if you prefer?” His eyes look from the screen to my face. I don’t know what to say, how to answer. “I love the fuck out of ya, Kitten. This is happening. I’m not waiting. You need to get your head around that.” He strokes his fingers up and down my arm. “Would you like stables? I know you had horses before.”

I suddenly feel hot and panicky, short of breath and dizzy. This is too much. It’s too much and it’s too soon. I did this with Sean. It was only two years ago that I was moving into a new house with Sean. Cam’s house. Just two years ago, I moved into a house that Cam bought for
me
that I ended up moving into with my husband. Now my husband’s dead and here I am, looking to buy a new home, start a new life with Cam. My life is a seriously fucked-up mess and it’s all of my own doing.

He gently brushes his knuckles over my cheek as I look up at him. “Stop, Kitten. Stop overthinking and stop panicking. I can feel how hard your heart’s pounding. I know what you’re thinking and you need to stop.” I open my mouth but no words come out.

I’ve experienced so many anxiety attacks this past year and I know that I am right at the beginning of one now. For me they start with a feeling of being too hot. Then my heart rate increases and I can’t speak or catch my breath. Then I get this strange sensation that starts in my toes and travels up my body. It’s sort of like a combination of pins and needles and ice travelling through my veins and that sensation is already starting in my toes now.

“Kitten, I know this is hard, moving on, moving forward. It’s always hard, but we’ve got this. I’ll be right there with you, every step, Kitten, every step of the way.”

A strange noise escapes my chest. It’s sort of a combination of a gasp and a sob and Cam pulls me into him, kissing my head and my hair, stroking my back and my arms.

“Fuck, Kitten, I hate that you’re hurting like this. If I could bring them back for you, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d gladly take their place so you didn’t have to feel like this.”

I let out a sob and cling to him. I don’t deserve this man. He’s just told me he would die to make me happy. How do I respond to that? I breathe into his chest, and when the feeling disappears from my toes, my breathing has calmed and my ability to speak has returned. I whisper hoarsely, “I’m so lucky, Cam. I’m so lucky to have you. I don’t deserve you, but I’m so grateful and so lucky to have you in my life.”

“Kitten,” he breathes my name with his lips pressed against my head and his hot breath makes my scalp prickle, “don’t say that. Of course you deserve me. We deserve each other.” He lets out a long sigh. “We’ve got here, Kitten. We’ve arrived here, at this point, because of a lot of fucked-up circumstances.” He tilts my face up and leans back so he can look at me better. “It’s not our fault. We didn’t choose to live or for them to die. It’s just the way it’s happened, and I know it hurts and I know it’s hard, but we’ve got each other.” He brushes my tears from my cheek with his thumb. “I’ve had fifteen years to work my way through the grief and the guilt, but this is all still so new and so fresh for you, but I promise, I promise you, it does eventually become more bearable. And on the days when it’s not, and you will have them. However far down the path you are, there are still days where it all comes crashing down and feels like it’s all too much. On those days and every other day, Kitten, I’ll be there for you. Whether you need my shoulder to cry on, my arms around you or you just want me to fuck off and leave you alone, I’ll be there, with you and for you.”

My face is a mess of tears and snot bubbles. I wipe it on my sleeve as best I can and then lean in and kiss him. I kiss him with everything I am and with everything I have.

“I fucking love the fuck out of you, Tiger.” I expect a reprimand, but instead, he just wraps his arms around me tighter and holds me for a while. My breathing and my heart rate settle, all traces of my impending anxiety attack gone.

“My mum has invited you to dinner tonight.” He moves us both in the chair so we can look at each other.

“Me?” he asks with a frown.

“Yeah, you. Why? Is that a problem?” He shrugs slightly.

“What about you? Where will you be?” I can’t help but laugh out loud. He’s worried. My big, bad Tiger thinks I’m sending him to my parents, alone, for dinner.

“I’ll be there too, you div. I promised my mum I would go home today. I’ve not seen her for two months, and as soon as I got home, you turned up and whisked me away. I need to go home and get out of these clothes and I need to unpack my case.” He looks at me while rubbing his fingers up and down my arm and rocking the chair back and forth slightly.

“Move in here.”

“What?”

“Move in here. Until we can find somewhere we want to buy together, move in here. It’s safe and secure. The press will leave you alone and I get to see you every day.” It all makes sense when he says it. It sounds like the most logical thing to do, but in my head, in my head all I can see is that old tumble drier full of socks of my mum’s going around, every sock representing a different thought, feeling and emotion rolling around in my head, chest and belly. “Let’s not waste any more time, Kitten. Let’s just be together.” I smile up at him. He looks tired, his eyes glassy. They remind me of the colour of a beer bottle today; it must be the brightness of the room.

“When did you get so clever?”

He gives me a smile and a shrug. “I’ve always been this clever. You’ve just never paid enough attention.”

I smile back. “You’re probably right.” We look over each other’s faces silently for a few moments.

“Pack a case when we go to your mum’s later and we’ll go and fetch the rest of your stuff tomorrow.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

He gives a small shrug. “But you will.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon looking at houses online, Cam ringing the agents and making appointments to view five, two on Thursday and three on Friday, all of them within a half hour drive of my parents’ and each of my brothers’ homes. Now I just have to tell my family my plans, which should be interesting.

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

We head over to my parents’ home at about five. Benny greets us as we climb into the back of a black Range Rover with blacked out windows. I’m not sure who’s in the driver’s seat, but I say hello as we climb in.

It’s freezing outside and there’s just one lonely photographer standing on the path outside Cam’s apartment block as we pull away. I actually wish the windows weren’t so heavily tinted so I could flip him my middle finger.

“Who’s car’s this?” I ask Cam as we pull off into the city traffic. He puts his arm across the back of the seat, pulls me in and kisses the top of my head.

“It’s yours.” What?

“Mine? I don’t have one of these.” I sold every car that Sean and I owned, except Hilda. I would never sell her.

“You do now, Kitten. I bought it for you.”

“Why? I don’t need you to be buying me a car.” He lets out a long sigh. It makes my hair move, which gives me goose bumps and makes my nipples hard in an instant.

Sean and I had chemistry; ours was borne more from knowing each other so well. We loved each other and sex was one of the ways in which we expressed our love. We had times when things got a little routine, but it was never boring. We liked to mix things up in the bedroom. We travelled a lot and were pretty adventurous when it came to finding new places to have sex: planes, boats, cars, backstage offices, but what I have with Cam is something else altogether. Whatever we do, however many times we fuck, I want more, all the time. I just want more.

“I know you don’t
need
me to, but I
wanted
to. I spoke to Bailey and he said you only had that shitty old banger you used to drive. Seriously, Kitten, I can’t believe you’ve still got that piece-of-crap car.” I want to smack him right in the mouth for that comment. In a split second, I’ve gone from wanting to fuck his brains out to wanting to punch his face in.

“My husband bought me that car,” I say quietly. His head swings around to face me, his mouth hanging open.

“Oh, shit, Kitten. I’m so sorry. Honestly, I had no idea.” He reaches across and takes my hand. I deliberately leave it limp, resting in his.

“Kitten?” he says quietly, “Please, I didn’t know. I just… shit.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, obviously thinking about what he’s going to say next, just in case he puts his huge size twelves in it again. “I just want you safe, Kitten. If you’re gonna be driving about, I want you in a car with a driver who’s gonna be able to keep you safe from the paps and any other arsehole who wants to make a nuisance of themselves.” Now I feel bad. “I didn’t know your husband particularly well, but I’m absofuckinlutely positive, he wouldn’t have wanted you running the gauntlet of all those photographers every day in your old car, and anyway, Scotty here would never fit behind the steering wheel.” My belly does a little backflip at the sound of Cam talking about Sean. He does it so casually, like it’s not an issue for him. So why am I struggling with it?

I look towards the driver’s seat and can see that Scotty fills the whole area, his head skimming the roof interior and his shoulders are much wider than the seat.

“Why does it matter whether Scotty fits in Hilda? I have a licence. I’m quite capable of driving myself.”

“Did Sean let you drive yourself around?” Again, my stomach lurches at the sound of Cam mentioning Sean.

“Yeah, I drove myself if Sean wasn’t with me. Milo was usually with us when Sean was around.”

Cam lets out a huff. “And Dave was with you when Sean and Milo weren’t, Kitten. Don’t lie to me. I know most of the security team who worked for the band. They all worked for me and your dad at some stage.” I don’t know why I’m arguing with him about this. I won’t win. “I don’t know why you’re wasting your breath arguing with me about this, Kitten. You won’t win.” And I hate that he knows it. “This is your car and Scotty is your driver and close protection when I’m not around. Your brothers and your dad are on board with this and your mum actually insisted on it.”

I look up at him. “You’ve spoken to my mum?”

He shakes his head. “I spoke to Bailey. Your mum told him she’s worried the paps will cause an accident. She’s understandably a little paranoid; they all must be. I am. We all just want you safe.” I undo my seatbelt, climb into his lap, wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.

“Thank you, I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

He gives a little headshake. “It’s all right. I’m getting used to it.”

My mouth drops open. “You can be such a wanker sometimes, King.”

He winks. “Yeah, but ya love me anyway. Now get your seatbelt on.” He lifts me off his lap, sits me back in my seat and buckles me back up like I’m a child. We drive the rest of the way to my mum’s mostly in silence. I think Cam’s a bit nervous and truthfully, so am I.

 

* * *

 

When we pull up at the gates, there’s not a photographer in sight. I give Scotty the magic number and we pull in. We get dropped off and Cam tells Benny he will call him when we’re ready to leave. I turn to look at Cam.

“Who says I’m going back to yours tonight?”

He looks down at me frowning. “Me. You’re staying at mine until we decide on something we wanna buy.”

“When was that decided?”

“We discussed it this afternoon, in the office.”

“Yeah, we discussed it. Nothing was decided, Cam. Stop making decisions for me. What I drive, where I live, who drives me. I’m a grown woman. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions.”

He stops walking towards the front door and stands with his hands on his hips.

“Why’d you fight me, Kitten? Every step of the way, you fight and argue with me.” I turn and face him, folding my arms across my chest as I do.

“Stop telling me what to do and I’ll stop fighting you.” He stares at me for a few seconds, biting down on the corner of his bottom lip.

“Kitten, I love the fuck out of ya. Please would you move in with me? Please accept the car and the driver as a gift from me to you and please let us look for a house we can buy together and turn into a home.” Wow. That would’ve taken a lot for him to do. Cam’s not rude or ill-mannered by any means, but he doesn’t often ask. He orders and he demands; that’s just his nature and I don’t suppose anyone often questions his demands, apart from me, but instead of ignoring what I want, he’s done the opposite. For me, he’s gone right against what comes naturally to him and he’s asked me to accept his gift and to move in with him.

“Yes, Tiger, to all of those things. I would love to.”

He rakes his hand through his hair and sighs, “Thank fuck for that. Now come here and kiss me.” God, why did that demand just turn me on so much? I seriously need to get a grip of my libido. I don’t remember being this horny in my life, ever.

 

* * *

 

I have no keys on me to get into my parents’ home, so we head around to the back doors. As we walk in, my mum is peeling potatoes at the sink and my dad is polishing a gun at the kitchen bench. My mum’s face lights up when she sees us and I feel a whole new kind of guilt for not being around these past few days, or months for that matter.

“Frank, hope that’s not out to shoot me with,” Cam says from behind me.

“If I was gonna shoot you with it, son, I’d clean it after, not before.” Oh, shit.

“Dad, can you put the gun away, please?”

I give my mum a cuddle as she says over my shoulder, “Yes, Francis, clear all this mess up and go and lock that bloody thing away. You know how much I hate them.” I step out of my mum’s arms and give my dad a cuddle.

“Jesus, Georgia, you’re skin and bone, girl. I thought they would’ve fattened you up in Aus.”

“Thanks, Dad. I actually ate well while I was there, but I was waiting tables for a bit and I surfed a lot.” I step out of my dad’s arms as he reaches past me and shakes Cam’s hand. This must be hard for my dad and I can only imagine the earful he would’ve copped from my mum today about being nice tonight.

“Pour us a glass of wine while I get these potatoes in the oven, Georgia, please, sweetheart,” she asks while I watch her carry the potatoes to the oven. My mum has a huge old-fashioned Aga range in her kitchen for cooking on and I notice the two trays of sizzling hot fat she has to put the potatoes on as she opens the door.

“Blimey, Mum, how many spuds have you got there? How many you cooking for?” She puts the ton of potatoes back in the oven and stands up, her face glowing from the heat.

“Phew, that’s hot. Where’s that wine, George?” I get the wine out of the fridge and pour us both a glass.

“You wanna beer or something else, Cam?” I hear my dad ask. He actually sounds civil.

“I’ll have a bourbon please if you’ve got one, Frank.” I watch as my dad puts his gun in its case, winks at Cam and says, “I sure have. Come with me.” I smile at Cam as he looks nervously at me before following my dad.

“If I don’t come back, just remember I love you,” he says quietly as he walks by. I smile. My big, hard alpha is a mess because of my old dad, but I know he’ll be safe. My dad will just be taking him to his office, where his gun case is. It’s also where he keeps all his special bourbons and whiskeys.

I turn back to my mum and pick up my wine glass,

“Cheers, Mum, it’s good to be home. I’ve missed you all so much.” She gives me another cuddle and we both sit on the bar stools up at the bench.

“Take no notice of your dad, Georgia. You are a bit skinny, but you look well. You look really well.”

I smile at her. “Thanks, Mum, I’m doing okay.” She watches me for a long moment. I don’t know if she’s waiting for me to say something or if she’s about to. I hear fat spit in the oven and it reminds me of my unanswered question from earlier. “Why so many spuds, Mum? Who else is coming?”

She frowns as she looks at me. “Just the usual, what’s that work out now? Eighteen, nineteen with Cam.”

“Everyone’s coming? You’ve invited everyone over for dinner?” She walks back over to the fridge and gets out the wine again, coming back to top up our glasses.

“Yeah, everyone’s coming. Didn’t I say that on the phone?”

“No, no you didn’t, but you should’ve said. I would’ve come earlier and given you a hand.” She stays standing around the other side of the bench and leans her hip into it.

“That’s all right. I like cooking for you all, you know that. I love having you all under the same roof. It’s been too long, George, too long since we were all here together, under happy circumstances.” I look over my beautiful mum’s face; this past year has aged her. God, it’d aged me and I spent most of it on another planet, so I can only imagine how horrible it’s been for her to be fully functioning and watching me go through what I did.

“Thanks, Mum, I can’t wait to see everyone. I’m gonna go and change out of these clothes before everyone gets here.”

My mum tilts her head as she looks me up and down. “Are they the same clothes you flew in?” I nod.

“Yeah, Cam’s housekeeper washed and dried them all for me, but I still wanna get out of them.”

I head up to my bedroom to have a quick shower, hair wash and to change into clean clothes. I hate leaving Cam for so long, but my hair was in serious need of a wash, and at the end of the day, he’s a big boy. I’m sure he can manage my dad for an hour on his own.

I look through my suitcase filled with all of my stuff from Australia. There’s nothing in there I’m going to be able to wear in England right now, so I pull out all of the gifts I’ve bought for my nieces and nephews and just leave the rest in there. I then pull out another suitcase and throw in all of my basics plus a few dresses and pairs of heels. I’m not going to be miles away so it’s not like I can’t come back for more if I need to.

I sit down on my bed for a minute and look at the photos on my bedside table. I have the one taken in the hospital of myself, Sean and Beau and another one of just Sean and me. It’s one of my favourite photos Sean and I ever had taken together. It was my birthday last year. I’m pregnant and I remember the moment like it was minutes ago. Sean and I were standing talking at the charity event the boys had played at. Sean had just come off stage, but Beau was still dancing to his daddy’s music, as he always did at the sound of Sean’s voice. Sean has his hand on my belly and he’s looking at me as I look down at his hand on my bump. He’s looking at me like he worships me. I’m looking at his hand and my belly like they are something magical. The photo was taken by one of the official photographers on the day and he must have made a fortune from it as it was in and on the covers of newspapers and magazines around the world. Because it was one of the last official photos taken of us together, it’s also been used over and over again since Sean’s death.

I pick the picture up and hold it against my chest, against my heart. I can’t get a grip on my feelings. One minute I’m so sure of everything, the next I’m wracked with guilt and sadness. I love Sean. I miss him and I know that I always will, but I also know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I love Cam and want to be with him. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel what I do for one, without feeling guilty about the other. Am I supposed to feel guilty, or should I just let it go? Is it okay to be happy with Cam but still love and miss Sean? Is there even a right and wrong to any of this?

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