by Vivian Wood
Anders said nothing, still glaring at Rhys. Then he looked at the girls scattered around the room and ordered them away. Milo, Jett and Luc looked between Rhys and Anders for a second before following the girls out of the room.
“Good to see you, Sese,” Milo shot as he gave her a quick hug on his way out the room. Luc and Jett just smiled and winked at her before they were gone as well.
Anders fixed Rhys with his dark glare. “So,” Anders sneered. “The girlfriend is staying then?”
“Yes, Andy. She is. If you have a fucking problem with that, you can fuck yourself with it.”
Anders said nothing, instead he surveyed her like she was an alien.
“Anders, alcohol? Seriously? You need to go to fucking rehab, brother. With the greatest of respect. You can’t keep doing this to yourself!”
“Why the fuck would I go to rehab, Rhys? I got no problem, unless you do.” Anders snorted and Rhys tensed visibly. “In which case, you can fuck yourself with it.” He snidely repeated Rhys’ words from seconds before.
“Look, bro. I know the home was tough on you. You need to deal with what they did to you there, Anders. It wasn’t your fault, damnit. You fucking need therapy. You need to focus on you for a goddamn change.”
Anders cut him off then. “Fuck off, Rhys. I don’t need you fucking preaching to me. Just leave, bro. And take your little slut here with you.”
Rhys took a deep breath, looking like he was about to punch Anders again.
“You don’t fucking call her that! Ever, you hear me?” He had Anders’ shirt balled up in his fist. “And we’ll leave, Anders, but in case you’ve forgotten, we have an interview here starting any fucking minute, so pull yourself the fuck together!” He fumed as Annie stepped in the room, as if on cue.
“Right, gentlemen. I have Drew Prince setting up with the rest on the balcony. If you’ll stop assaulting one another for a second, you have an interview to get to.” Annie didn't seem surprised by the scene in front of her for a second, but she did glance at Serena, letting her annoyance slip through.
Rhys immediately released Anders and walked over to her, tilting her lips up to his and kissing her gently. “We’ll be done in fifteen minutes or so, princess, then we’re blowing this joint.”
He walked to the balcony. Anders glared at her briefly before following.
“Well,” Annie nodded toward her. “Are you coming?”
The guys were spread out on couches on the balcony and a middle-aged, friendly looking man was sitting in a chair facing them. Cameras surrounded him and various cameramen and others were frantically checking cables and shots and the like before one nodded to him. “You’re live in… five, four, three” he stopped talking and counted the host down with his fingers.
Annie kept Serena close to her as the host looked straight into the camera and said, “You’re live with Misery, ladies and gents. Nowhere else than from Anders Grant’s own balcony, chilling with the guys on this glorious Saturday.”
“How’re you doing, Misery?” He turned to them. “Been a while since you’ve come home from your last tour, what’s new with Misery? Can we expect a new album soon?”
Jett launched into an answer, Luc and Milo interrupting from time to time. Rhys and Anders were quiet, but no tension was visible between them. The interview seemed to go seamlessly, it was clear to her that the band had a definite rhythm, an ease with which to face these things that, regardless of what may have been happening personally, was swept away by their public personas.
“So Rhys, we’ve seen a lot of you around town with a certain young lady recently. Want to fill us in on what’s happening there? You’ve never been this openly affectionate before, some are speculating that you’re trying to draw attention to yourself, care to comment?”
“Let them speculate. Serena is a wonderful girl. I’m honored to be spending time with her for as long as she’ll have me.” He gave an arrogant nod as he smirked straight into the camera, but his eyes went soft when they met hers where she was standing behind the camera.
“Is there a Misery wedding in the near future then?”
Her heart completely stopped, her lungs refused to accept air.
Rhys simply chuckled easily, like the question was completely normal and didn't faze him at all. “It’s only been a few weeks, Drew. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? Lest we scare the poor girl off.”
The host asked no questions that concerned her after that, but her head was still spinning. Rhys hadn’t said no!
The band continued their easy banter with Drew Prince for a while before Annie nudged the camera man, who alerted Mr. Prince.
“Well, folks, that’s all the time we have today with Misery. Let us know what you thought using the hashtag #miseryontwo!”
Just like that, the red light indicating that the cameras were on blinked off, and Rhys jumped to his feet. “Pleasure seeing you again, Drew” he said, shaking the man’s hand. Then he nodded to the rest of the band without any further words, grabbed her hand and dragged her to his car.
20
Rhys, why are we packing? Where are we going?”
He hadn’t said a word all the way back to his house in the Hills. He had sighed at the ever- present cameras waiting for them at the gate and as soon as they were safely inside it, had slid his sunglasses into his hair, looked over at her with burning eyes and told her to pack a bag for a few days.
“We’re going somewhere private. Somewhere away from this chaos.” He emerged from his walk in closet, duffel bag hanging from his shoulder and pushed his lips to hers in a deep kiss. When he broke the kiss, his eyes lingered on hers for a long moment, a look that she couldn't quite place in them. Then he blinked and whatever had been in his eyes in that moment was gone.
“We need to get away from all this for a minute. Lucky for you, I know just the place.” His confident smirk was back in place, the tenderness having not vanished only from his eyes, but also from his voice.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see when we get there. Pack comfortable, and light. I don’t wanna be lugging a ton of shit around.”
He turned on his heels and she only just heard his voice call, “Meet you in the kitchen in fifteen minutes!” from the stairs.
Damn. She'd really thought they were over this part of their relation - whatever-the-hell-they-were doing. Clearly though, she'd been wrong. Not for the first time when it came to this man. Confusing as heck!
Nevertheless, she must not disappoint her confusing, moody, rock star. With a sigh she grabbed one of her smaller bags and packed quicker than she ever had before.
Rhys was waiting in the Range Rover, talking on the phone. As soon as she slid into the car, he ended the call and pulled out of the garage once more.
He turned the music up loud and barely slowed down to allow the cameramen to clear the drive before slamming his foot on the pedal and screeching away, leaving his house and the cameras and everything else behind. His jaw was set, mouth in a tight line as he sped to wherever they were going.
Once they were on the Pacific Coast Highway, he seemed to start to relax. His mouth was softer, and his shoulders weren't as tense. He hadn't slowed down, turned the music down or told her where they were going, but the farther away they got from the house, the more the tension seemed to seep out him. They'd been driving for a while when he rolled down his window, put his arm out the window and let the air slide around his hand, diving it up and down like one does making dolphins with your hand for a child.
Eventually, he turned down the music and shot a glance at her.
“I’m sorry, Serena. I had no right to take any of this out on you. Anders just drives me up the fucking wall sometimes, you know? And what he said about you… Let’s just say it made me want to go back to when we used to settle things differently than how we do now.”
“And you had to get away not to?”
“Yup. But it’s not just that. These past few months have been inte
nse. Need a couple of days to clear my head. Away.”
“You know, if you need to clear your head, you can just drop me at Mary’s for a few days?” A small part of her withered as she made the offer. She didn't want to leave him for a few days again, not when things were finally starting to feel real between them and especially not after how they'd spent the last few days tangled up in each other, but he seemed like he desperately needed some space to ”clear his head” as he had put it.
His face fell. “You don’t want to come with me?” His voice was hard as steel.
“No! No, Rhys, of course I do. God, you have no idea how much. It’s just that I get that you need space, and I’m trying to give you the option to have it. I know that you might have thought that I don’t have anywhere to go, and that why you…”
He cut her off with a soft chuckle. “I don’t need space from you princess, I need space for you. Away from all that bullshit back there. Don’t ever think that I don’t want you with me again, okay? I didn’t tell you to pack because I didn’t think you didn't have anywhere else to go. I think you know I’m not that much of a goddamn gentleman, I told you to pack because I want you with me.”
What now? He wanted her with him? “Well then, I’m with you.”
“Yeah you are,” he murmured softly.
Her heart stammered. He couldn’t mean it in that way, right? No use trying to lie to herself about it anymore though, she definitely wanted him to mean it that way. That she really was with him. His.
They were off the PCH now, at the beach. Rhys navigated twists and turns and they pulled up outside an exquisite house in an estate right on the beach as the sun started to set. Rhys shut off the car and slid out, opening her door before grabbing their bags and leading her up a short stone path to the front door. He dug for a set of keys, unlocked the door and led her inside.
She sucked in her breath in as she stepped inside into the main room with more floor to ceiling windows and an unencumbered view of a patio area, infinity pool and the ocean beyond it. The main room was open concept and had a dining area accompanied by a gourmet kitchen and bar.
He turned to the left, through a hallway that still offered unobstructed lawn and ocean views through its glass walls into a master suite that was big enough to fit Josh’s apartment several times over. He flipped on light switches as they walked, and she absolutely marveled in the splendor of the place.
The master bedroom had a huge, emperor-size bed with immaculate white bedding, a seating area with a flat screen television and a smaller seating area that was surrounded by records and CDs and three guitars sitting on their stands. Beyond that were the doors, still entirely glass, that led to a hot tub on the lawn outside and the beach and a spectacular view of the sun setting over the ocean.
She held her breath as she took in the view, feeling his arms sliding around her waist and pulling her close to him. “It’s something, huh?”
“Yeah. It might be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
“I agree,” he said firmly, but as she turned in the circle of his arms, he was staring at her.
“Aren’t you afraid of people passing and seeing in here, though? All this glass…”
“You can’t see in if the doors are closed. Anyway, this is the last house on the cul-de-sac and there’s hardly ever anyone on this part of the beach. Part of the reason I bought it.”
“This is yours?” she stammered.
“It is. And you’re officially its first guest. It’s my private hideaway. The guys don’t even know about it yet. Transfer came through while we were on tour. It has a recording studio on the other side, though. So they’ll find out about it soon enough.”
“Up for the grand tour?”
She slid her hand into his, kissing him chastely. “Hell yes!”
He led her through the house and showed her the gym, wine cellar, four other bedrooms and the recording studio before leading her back to the kitchen in the center.
Her head was spinning at the place. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before!
“Really? You like it that much?”
“Did I say that out loud?” she groaned, feeling the heat spread to the tips of her ears.
“You did.” He smirked, but then tipped her face up toward his and kissed her deeply. All thoughts of the splendor were immediately erased by the touch of his lips on hers, the taste of him, the way he moved his hips against hers, his hand cupping her cheek and the other on her neck…
And then her stomach grumbled. Loudly. He broke the kiss with a nip to her lower lip and smiled.
“Well, seems you’re hungry for something other than me… first. And here I was thinking that all you needed was a steady diet of me.” He arched his eyebrows at her with a naughty smile, doing a little dance while teasing his shirt up over those incredible abs, exposing that perfect, lickable V… Yes, I must lick that tonight! she thought.
He cleared his throat and she instantly realized that she'd been staring. “Could your ego be any bigger?” She rolled her eyes at him.
“Yes. But I don’t think my ego was what you were thinking about right then, and I’ve never had any complaints about size there. In fact, I remember a certain girlfriend of mine telling me just a few days ago how big that is.”
Girlfriend! He’d called her his girlfriend! She could do a happy dance, jump up and click her heels, but they had joked around with the boyfriend/ girlfriend thing before so he may still have meant it that way, as a joke. Must not get her hopes up.
Instead, she walked toward him, giving him her best seductive look and slid one strap of her dress down slowly as she came to a stop in front of him. Already, his mouth had opened just a bit and he sucked in a small breath as she moved toward him.
“You know, my memory might need some refreshing. Care to remind me just how huge what is?”
His eyes were dark with lust and he was breathing faster now, pulling her toward him again, grinding his hips into her and she could feel his erection pressing into her stomach as he pulled her into a kiss.
It lasted only a second before he groaned and pulled away, though. “I think what you just felt against your stomach is going to have to be your reminder until we get some food into you.”
“You want to order in?” she asked.
“Nah, asked the housekeeper to stock the fridge for us this afternoon. I intend on keeping you right here, to myself, for as long as humanly possible. Let’s see what we have.”
His eyes lit up. “How about breakfast?”
“For supper?”
“Why not? Eggs and bacon taste great any time of day,” he quipped as he collected the ingredients from the fridge.
“You had me at bacon, baby.”
“Baby?” He raised his eyebrows and then smiled. His face broke out into the happiest grin she'd seen him wear in, well, maybe ever. “I’ve considered it, and I like it!”
“Really?” She hadn’t even really meant it that way, but if he liked it that much, maybe he liked her, too… Hope surged in her. Until the familiar self-doubt settled in. “You didn’t consider it for very long, maybe?” He silenced her with a kiss that smacked when he released her lips. Was he being playful? His eyes and mouth were still smiling.
“No maybes, I’m baby from now on. No backsies.” He stuck his pierced tongue out at her just a little before he started layering the bacon in a pan, whistling to himself.
Well, well. She'd seen a little bit of this side of him the last few days in Hollywood, but staring at him now, he was lighter and brighter than the sun, dancing around the kitchen. He’d even kicked off his sneakers and pulled off his shirt.
The hard lines of his muscular body entranced her immediately. Add in his carefree, relaxed attitude and the smile on his face… Please excuse her while she melted into a puddle and tried to re-form…
“Ouch!” His yelp snapped her out of her puddle-like state. He rubbed a spot just above his belly button.
“For the record,
frying bacon shirtless is not the smartest idea I’ve ever had!” He was still smiling, laughing a little as he tipped the bacon into a waiting plate, popped out toast she hadn’t realized had gone into the toaster and cracked four eggs into the waiting pan.
“Do me a favor, will you, butter the toast please.”
“Okay.” More watching him than thinking about what she was doing, she took the pieces of toast in her hands and started cooling them, waving them back and forth like a flag at a raceway.
“What are you doing?” he asked, clearly amused by her movements.
She felt herself turning beet red before answering him dead on. “This is how toast should be eaten,” she informed him. “Cooled before it’s buttered so that it’s still crunchy.”
“And you questioned me about having breakfast for supper, yet here you are waving toast around.” He chuckled, shaking his head but turning his attention back to the frying eggs.
Once she deemed the toast cool enough, she buttered it just in time for him to slide the eggs onto them. They dished up some bacon and she followed him to the dining area.
They were mostly quiet while they ate, both ravenous after the long day they'd had and having had nothing but a few pieces of fruit for breakfast.
After dinner, she took their plates and the other dishes to dishwasher and loaded it, as had become their routine.
“Up for a movie?” he asked when she returned, already settled on the couch flicking through titles.
“Sure.” She curled up under his arm and he instinctively pulled her into his side. His movements were so easy here, it warmed her heart and her body all the way down to her toes.
One of the titles reminded her of something he had said to Anders earlier, about the home and needing therapy.
The warm feeling from seconds earlier was replaced by uneasiness in her stomach.
“Hey, Rhys.” He kissed the top of her head absentmindedly before fixing his eyes on her. “I was just thinking about something you said to Anders earlier, about the home being tough on you and him.”
He sat up like she'd burned him. Relaxed, easygoing Rhys was gone in a second flat.