Island Fling to Forever

by Sophie Pembroke

  A few more times. At least he had some idea of a timetable now, then.

  So much for one more night. He should have known—having Rosa again only made him want her more. For as long as they had together, anyway.

  ‘You don’t need to, this time,’ he said, trying to keep his tone light. He wasn’t usually one for serious relationship talk straight after sex, but if he’d learned one thing about Rosa it was that if he didn’t get in there fast she’d be gone before he ever got the chance to say anything. ‘Run, I mean.’

  ‘Oh?’ Propping herself up on one elbow, Rosa looked down at him, her damp hair curling around her face where it had escaped her braid. ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Because I know the deal, this time.’ Jude swept his hands up her back, under her heavy plait, enjoying the opportunity to explore all that beautiful skin. ‘No strings, no expectations, right? Just you and me, enjoying the time we have together on the island.’

  ‘A fling,’ Rosa said, her mouth twitching up into a lopsided smile. ‘An island romance.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Sounds perfect.’

  She kissed him again, then, and Jude forgot for a moment how much it had hurt when she left, before.

  Not this time, though. This time, he was prepared, he knew what he was getting into. He could steel his heart against falling for Rosa Gray all over again. Right?

  ‘Besides,’ Rosa said, sliding down to nestle in the crook of his arm again, her head resting against his shoulder, ‘you’ll be running back to New York again yourself any time soon, right?’

  ‘Yeah.’ New York. The city for dreamers. The place he’d wanted to get to his whole life. Except now, it felt like the last place he belonged. Especially without Gareth there to share it.

  ‘There’s a considerable lack of enthusiasm in that “yeah”,’ Rosa pointed out. ‘Want to talk about it?’

  Jude sighed. Did he? Maybe it would help. And Rosa... Rosa was one of the few people, other than his bandmates, who knew him well enough to understand. She knew what he’d been looking for in his music, in his career. What he’d hoped for from fame.

  She might understand why he was disappointed with what he’d found instead.

  ‘I am aware that this could be considered as being ungrateful,’ he said, as an opening disclaimer.

  Rosa laughed. ‘Remember who you’re talking to here. Just ask Anna how well I know ungrateful.’

  Jude hugged her a little closer to him. Whatever had been bothering her at dinner still rankled, it seemed. He’d hoped that the last hour or so of being naked in his arms might have cured it. Maybe he’d have to try again...

  ‘You’ve stopped talking,’ Rosa pointed out as he started kissing along her hairline again.

  Talking. Right.

  Jude sighed, and dropped his head back down to his shirt on the sand. ‘Do you remember, on the tour bus, how we talked about music and fame and everything that went with it?’

  ‘Yes.’ He hadn’t expected her to sound so definite. It was three years ago, after all. ‘I remember it all, Jude.’

  His heart contracted at that. He’d always assumed she’d cared less than him, to be able to leave so easily. But there was something in her voice, a weight he hadn’t expected. Maybe he’d misjudged her.

  Except that she’d still left. Nothing she said now could change that simple fact.

  ‘I thought that making music and getting paid for it would be enough. Gareth always wanted more, of course—he was the one who wanted the stardom, really. Wanted to show them all. He needed the riches and the success and his face in every magazine... I just wanted... I wanted to create something new and share it with the world. It was as simple—and as naive—as that.’ He almost pitied the younger man he’d been. The Jude who’d thought that music was enough and that Rosa would stay. That Gareth’s star, burning so bright, wouldn’t consume him in the end. That he could hold the world together the way he wanted it through sheer force of will.

  Thank goodness he grew up.

  ‘And now?’

  ‘Now I know it doesn’t work like that.’

  Rosa pressed a kiss to his bare chest, right above his heart. ‘Maybe it should.’

  He huffed a laugh. ‘Maybe. But instead... I shouldn’t complain. I get to do a job others would do for free and I get paid obscene amounts of money for it. And normally I’m fine with what that means.’

  ‘What does it mean?’

  ‘It means...’ Jude sighed as he trailed off. ‘It means being Jude Alexander the brand, rather than the man. It means deciding if the songs I write fit the band’s direction, rather than if I like them. It means considering the label, the fans, the advertisers before the music.’ It meant being the person Gareth had always been, the one who thought about how to be a success first.

  ‘Putting them all before yourself,’ Rosa added.

  ‘Sometimes.’ The truth was, he’d got so used to being led to the decisions others wanted him to make, to automatically defaulting to the best business decision, he wasn’t sure if he even knew what he wanted any more.

  Except for one thing: he knew he wanted to live Gareth’s dreams for him, now he was no longer there to live them himself.

  That was what mattered. Gareth’s memory, and the music.

  He owed Gareth that much, at least, if that was all there was left to give.

  ‘And then there was the book...’ Rosa lifted her head to look him in the eye. ‘I guess that didn’t go down well with the label?’

  Jude laughed. ‘The opposite, actually. They loved it. It made me sound like a real rock star—affairs and parties and wild behaviour. Add in Gareth’s addiction and everything that came after and it was exactly what people imagine rock-star life to be.’

  ‘Was it true, though?’

  ‘Some of it,’ Jude admitted. ‘Some of it was exaggerated, and some just plain fantasy. But it didn’t seem to matter. The publicity around it, even before it came out, was enough to bump our latest album a bit further up the charts.’

  ‘All publicity is good publicity, huh?’

  ‘It seems so.’

  ‘Not for you, though.’

  Jude closed his eyes, shutting out the stars above. ‘No.’

  ‘Tell me?’ He felt Rosa inch closer, her leg over his, her arm around his waist. She was wrapping herself around him like a protective blanket, as if she could ward off the dark or the bad memories or both. He smiled, involuntarily. For someone who never stayed, while she was there, Rosa could make a man feel as if he were the whole world.

  Fame had done that for a while, too. He’d felt important, the big man in the city, just as he and Gareth had dreamed when they were poor schoolboys with no future. And yes, he’d taken advantage of it. He’d done things he looked back on and winced. He’d treated people badly, tossed his fame around like confetti.

  But that wasn’t who he really was. He knew that, now, even if the readers of Jude: The Naked Truth never would.

  ‘Imagine someone printed a book that detailed every screw-up you’d ever made, every bad choice, every awful day, every time you were an idiot or just plain rude. And now imagine that anyone who ever thought anything of you is going to read that.’

  Rosa squeezed him a little tighter around the middle. ‘I don’t think there’s a book long enough for all my screw-ups.’

  ‘Mine appears to be pretty lengthy, too.’ He sighed. ‘The worst part was realising all the people I’d trusted who must have contributed to it. There are stories in there that only a few people knew. The author—who has never actually met me, by the way—couldn’t have got them from anyone else.’

  Suddenly the warmth of Rosa’s body next to him was gone, and when he opened his eyes she was sitting up over him, her arm across her bare breasts. ‘I’m not in there, right? Because, Jude—you know I didn’t talk to anyone, d
on’t you? I wouldn’t—’

  ‘You’re not in the book,’ Jude told her, grabbing her hands and pulling her back down to him. ‘You...that’s one screw-up I know you’d never make.’ She’d break his heart, leave without a backward glance, but Rosa would never sell him out. He’d doubted, for a time, but now he was sure.

  ‘Okay. Good.’

  ‘My ex-girlfriend, however, had no such restraint.’ And that still hurt. Yes, maybe he and Sylvie were never going to make it long-term, but still.

  Rosa winced on his behalf. ‘You said she sold her story after you broke up?’

  ‘Worse. She sold it when we were still dating. I only found out after we broke up.’

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘So...not really looking forward to seeing her tomorrow, then?’ Rosa asked.

  Jude hauled her further up his body so he could kiss her thoroughly. ‘I’m really not thinking about my ex-girlfriend right now.’

  ‘Mmm, good.’ Rosa returned the kiss. Then she pulled a little way away, her gaze uncertain. As if she didn’t want to know the answer to the question she was about to ask. ‘Jude. What happened with Gareth?’

  In a way, he was surprised she’d waited so long to ask. Gareth had adored Rosa, and she’d returned the feeling. Jude had loved that—seeing the two people who knew him best getting along so well. Of course she needed to know the full, awful story.

  But her question still hit him in the gut. Was he afraid of his own guilt, or passing some of it on to her by association? He wasn’t sure any more.

  ‘You read the newspaper reports, I’m sure,’ Jude said, no emotion in his voice. ‘They were very...comprehensive.’

  Every single detail, spelled out in black-and-white print. They’d only just started making a noise on the scene, but Gareth was a big part of that noise. He was the one people had heard of, the one they wanted to see perform, back then. Jude had just been the guitarist, the accompanying vocals, not the frontman.

  Not while Gareth was there to sing for both of them.

  And when he had gone...of course, he’d blazed out in the most sensational way he could. Gareth wouldn’t have known any other way.

  ‘I read...it was at the awards show, wasn’t it?’

  Their first awards show. Their first award—best up-and-coming band, as voted for by Melody Magazine. The first sign that they were getting where they needed to go.

  ‘He wanted to celebrate, of course.’ Jude swallowed around the lump in his throat.

  ‘Gareth always did.’ Rosa’s smile was soft, and he knew she was remembering. ‘He celebrated everything, didn’t he? A birthday, a gig, a sunrise. Hell, he threw a party the night we first slept together.’

  ‘He said me getting laid was a rare enough occurrence that it deserved marking,’ Jude said, drily.

  ‘So. He went to the after-party to celebrate?’ Rosa asked.

  Jude’s laugh felt so sharp it hurt his throat. ‘Oh, Gareth couldn’t wait that long. He went straight to the gents and shot up there. With a little celebratory extra, of course.’ And he should have gone with him, been with him to stop him, to keep an eye on him. Should have stopped it before it even got that far. As he’d promised. ‘It was that extra that killed him.’

  But he’d been at the bar, drinking away the knowledge that Rosa wasn’t coming back to him.

  ‘They found him an hour or so later, when someone got suspicious about why the stall was still locked.’ That was the worst part. It hadn’t even been Jude who realised he was missing. He’d just assumed he was off chatting up some woman, or partying with his other friends. He hadn’t even realised Gareth was using again, he’d been so self-absorbed. ‘He was already gone, but they called the ambulance anyway. The paramedics stormed through just as they were announcing the winner of Artist of the Year.’

  And so, of course, it made all the papers. Every gossip rag and website had the story—and the photos. Jude, pale and gaunt beside the stretcher, holding onto the closest thing to a brother he’d ever had.

  ‘I made him a promise, you know,’ he said, squeezing his eyes tight shut. ‘A year before he died, he had a close call. Ended up in hospital after an accidental overdose, and it was touch-and-go for a while. When he woke up, I swore to him that I wouldn’t let it happen again. I would keep him clean and straight and away from temptation. I’d be the angel on his shoulder. I promised I’d keep him alive. He had so much to live for...’

  ‘Jude.’ Rosa’s cool hand pressed against his face, followed by her kiss. ‘That wasn’t a promise you could keep. No one could keep that promise. Gareth’s addiction...you couldn’t beat it with words.’

  ‘Why not?’ Jude cried out, into the night. ‘Everything else in my life, it’s all been words and music. That’s what I have. I’ve fought everything else in the world with those two things. Why weren’t they enough to save Gareth?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rosa said, her voice small.

  But Jude knew. He knew exactly why. ‘It was working. Until I met you. It was like you took over my whole world, in that instant. And I stopped keeping my promise because I needed to be with you.’ Rosa started to speak, but he cut across her. ‘Oh, I know you weren’t there when he died. But I was so caught up in my own misery about you leaving that I still didn’t see what was right in front of my face.’

  Rosa pulled away. ‘So, you blame me for Gareth’s death?’

  Jude looked up at her, beautiful in the moonlight, and knew how unfair he was being. Reaching up, he pulled her back down to him. ‘No. No, I don’t blame you. I blame myself.’ And he always would, whenever he remembered that image of Gareth being wheeled out of the awards ceremony in a body bag.

  The next day, the calls had started, asking about what happened next for the band, and the others had nominated him as the new frontman without his even being there.

  ‘I wanted to stop,’ he said, softly. ‘Afterwards. I wanted to walk away from it all. The band, music, everything.’

  ‘What changed your mind?’ Rosa’s voice was still quiet, as if she didn’t fully believe him about where the blame lay.

  ‘The rest of the band. They told me...’ He swallowed. ‘They told me that I had to carry on. For Gareth. To achieve all the dreams he never would, now. It took me a while to believe them. But then one morning, about four months afterwards, I just woke up and knew they were right. Gareth and I had talked about making our band a success our whole lives, it seemed. I couldn’t give up on that now. He’d never forgive me. I’d let him down so badly... I had to do anything I could to keep his memory and his dreams alive.’

  Rosa’s eyes were sad, and she kissed him so sweetly he knew that it had to be pity.

  ‘Gareth loved you,’ she said, and he believed her. ‘He’d want you to be happy, more than anything else.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘Then why are you going back to New York?’

  It shouldn’t be so hard to think of an answer to that question that she’d accept. ‘Because it’s my home, now. The band are there. I couldn’t leave them—or the music—now. I have an obligation—to them, and to Gareth’s memory. And there are the contracts with the label, of course. I owe them all.’

  ‘You sound like Anna,’ Rosa said, softly.

  Jude shook his head. ‘This is different. This is my dream.’ His and Gareth’s dream. And he would live it for both of them.

  ‘Then why do you look like you’ve been caged?’

  There wasn’t an answer at all for that one. ‘Go on, then. What do you think I should do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Rosa gave a one-shouldered shrug. ‘I’ve spent pretty much my whole adult life avoiding getting trapped that way.’

  And she’d keep avoiding it, he knew. Once the wedding was over she’d leave him again.

  But this time, he knew that ahead of time.
Which meant he wasn’t going to waste a moment of the time they had together.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about New York any more,’ he said. ‘Or the past.’

  Rosa raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh? What do you want to talk about?’

  ‘Honestly?’ Jude ran his hands up the side of her naked body. ‘I don’t want to talk at all.’

  ‘Works for me,’ Rosa said, and kissed him.

  * * *

  The bridal party were due to arrive after lunch, so Rosa and Jude spent the following morning putting the finishing touches to the bridal bungalow, and hanging the more delicate decorations for the main function areas that had been left until the last moment, just in case. Basically making sure everything was hashtag perfect for Valentina’s arrival.

  Anna had already stopped by three times to check on their work, but even that couldn’t dim Rosa’s mood today. Every action, every moment seemed to remind her of the night before—of being wild and free, first in the sea, and then in Jude’s arms. Even the darker turn the conversation had taken...as upsetting as it was to hear about Gareth’s death from Jude’s own lips, to hear how he blamed himself, she was glad that she knew, now. And if anything, it had only made her feel closer to him again. As if they were finding their way back to how they’d been three years ago, before she walked away.

  He said he didn’t blame her for distracting him from Gareth’s slide into addiction again, and she wanted to believe him. And for now, that would have to be enough. It wasn’t as if they had for ever for him to throw blame back at her. They had another week or two at most, and Rosa had very firm ideas about how they should spend that time.

  She stretched up to secure a string of tiny lights, and felt a muscle ache, a physical reminder of her actions the night before, and smiled.

  ‘You’re doing it again,’ Jude said, from across the way.

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Distracting me.’

  Rosa laughed, just a little uneasily, given her earlier thoughts. ‘I can’t help that, I’m afraid.’

  But Jude grinned back, and she knew he wasn’t thinking about Gareth at all. That was good. As much as he’d loved his friend, he couldn’t spend the rest of his life in mortgage to his memory.