Sweet Affection (Truth Book 3)

by Henderson, Grace

  “I’ll do it now, before she gets a call from her. It’ll be better if we get our side across first. Chin up.”

  He slaps me on the shoulder and ruffles my hair. “Catch ya later.” I nod again and mumble a ‘later’ to him as he walks away.

  “What did Shannon want?” Ryan asks, sitting down in the chair that Blake just left. He’s eyeing me suspiciously, waiting for my answer. Another one who doesn’t believe me then. I guess that’s what I get for acting like a muppet for so long.

  “To cause problems for me and Laurel, because I turned her down. Answered my phone and made out like we were fucking or some shit like that.”

  “God, my sixteen year old sister is more mature than her.” He chuckles and pushes another beer towards me. “On the house, seems like you need it. Laurel’s not going to believe her anyway. She knows she likes to cause trouble.”

  “Yeah right. That’s why she ignored my call then turned her phone off.” He frowns and gets out his own phone. He’s presses it to his ear, I imagine trying to call her and it rings. My heart pounds in my chest when she answers.

  Is she crying?

  Fuck me.

  I motion for him to give me the phone but he winces and holds his finger up for me to wait. He starts trying to soothe her.

  She is crying.

  For fuck’s sake. So much for her not believing it.

  I gesture again for him to give me the phone but he shakes his head mouthing not yet to me and I get out the chair with a jerk, slamming my hands on the table. I can’t just do nothing, but what the hell can I do?

  Laurel

  I stare at my phone in shock then slowly slide down the wall in my hotel room. The tears are pooling in my eyes and my heart feels like it’s going to break any minute.

  “What’s going on?” I whisper into the empty room. Fuck, he’s with her. I go away for a few days and he turns to her for sex?

  That can’t be right.

  But why would she say it? Well I know why, she’s probably just jealous.

  But she had his phone. She’s with him.

  My phone beeps and I get a text. I don’t know the number.

  I’m fucking your boyfriend. And there are others too. You’re fooling yourself if you think he’ll ever be faithful.

  My phone buzzes again and I glance down at the screen. I need time to think. I can’t talk to him about this yet so I dismiss the call and turn my phone off. Hot tears roll slowly down my face and as much as I want to be strong about this, it feels good to cry. To release it all. So I do. Just thinking about them together causes the bile to rise in my throat and I choke down a sob. I cover my mouth with my hand, and get a sick feeling in my stomach. It takes a few seconds to realise I need to run to the bathroom or else I’ll have some cleaning up to do. I wretch into the toilet until my stomach empties, then I sit on the cold tiles and slump back against the side of the bath. I look down at myself and want to laugh, but instead another sob comes out.

  How did I get here?

  I’m so pathetic.

  I need to talk to someone. Cassie will help me. Or maybe Jen. Or both.

  I dig my phone out my pocket and turn it back on. Just as I’m about to dial Cass’s number, I get an incoming call from Ryan.

  The ache in my chest dampens some, and I answer it, trying my best to not sound like a frog.

  “Hi.”

  “Are you okay?” He says quickly, and his concerned voice makes my eyes water again.

  “No, I’m not okay. I’m pissed.” Talking to someone else about this makes me angry. Who the hell does she think she is? I’ve never done anything to her. I sniff and take a deep breath in to try and calm myself.

  “Are you there?” I ask, he’s unusually quiet.

  “Yeah, sorry sweetheart. Someone was talking to me. I’m just moving somewhere less crowded.” Oh, he’s busy at work.

  “Don’t worry about me Ryan. I’ll be fine. You should get back to the bar.” He sounds breathless.

  “Is this about James? I’ve just seen him here.” He’s at the bar? Well his head definitely isn’t between her thighs if he’s out. Unless they’ve been fucking in the bathroom. Something I know for a fact he’s done before. Oh, God.

  “Did you speak to him?”

  “Yeah, I saw Shannon walk up to Blake and James’s table and sit down. When I asked him what she was doing, he said she wanted to mess with you both because he turned her down. If it means anything to you, Laurel, I don’t think anything’s going on. He just asked me if he could speak to you.”

  “Don’t let him. I can’t right now.” I don’t know what to say just yet. I still need to think.

  “I won’t. But he looked like he was going to kill me when I said no.”

  I sigh into the speaker and rub my free hand over my temple. “I’m going to go. Thanks for ringing me. I’ll see you this weekend for the party I guess.”

  “Okay. Call me if you need anything.” I promise him I will then hang up feeling a little more confused than before. I yawn, then turn my phone off. I’ll sleep on it, and maybe speak to James in the morning. Getting into bed, I burrow down into the pillow and think about how amazing last weekend was. James’ sweet words, his face lit up laughing, his teasing, his eyes when they looked at me, the rose petals. I think back on our relationship and let it all wash over me, relaxing my mind. His whispered you’re everything is what I hear before I drift off to sleep.

  Bang, bang.

  What the heck’s that? I move my head and realise I’m in bed.

  Oh, I must have been dreaming. I turn over onto my other side and pull the covers tighter round me. It’s cold sleeping on my own. I don’t open my eyes. I’ll wake up too much if I do that.

  Bang, bang, bang, bang.

  Okay, not a dream. I open my eyes and snap upright in bed. I hold my breath, waiting for another noise.

  Bang, bang, bang.

  Shit, it’s the door. I jump out of bed, and in my haste to get there quickly to quieten whoever it is down, I bang my elbow on the side of wardrobe. Really hard.

  “Fucking hell. Stupid furniture.” I mumble to myself, rubbing my funny bone as hard as I can.

  Nothing funny about that.

  I look through the peephole and don’t see anyone. Strange. If it was the hotel, they’d just ring the room phone if they needed me. I don’t risk opening the door. I’m here on my own and it could be some axe murderer, or rapist. They sounded pretty violent.

  I open the complimentary bottle of water and pour it into a glass, then sit on the bed and turn my phone on, realising I’m going to need to set an alarm for tomorrow…today. When it loads, I see the missed call icon indicating a few, and twenty new texts. A couple are from Cassie and Jen both asking if I’m okay and telling me to call them. They must have found out somehow. And the others are from James. The first one was about five hours ago, just after I called him, pleading with me to call back and they go on like that until the very last one.

  Open the damn door!

  It was him?

  He’s here.

  I hug my phone to my chest and breathe deeply. God, I need to see him. I think it was just the shock earlier. Now I’ve had time to think about it, I know he wouldn’t do that to me. I briefly think back to Alex and how she was some-serious-screws-loose psycho. I just can’t believe women would be so bat-shit crazy over a guy.

  My guy.

  He is amazing, I’ll give them that. But did she think I’d break up with him and then she’d get her chance? I shake my head of all jealous thoughts, that’s never been me, and I can’t start thinking like that now. He’s always been loving, and sweet and-

  Why the hell haven’t I opened the door yet?

  I run over, turn the lock and pull it open so hard it bangs against the wall.

  “You’re here.” I say, my voice full of aching relief and just a little bit of lust as my eyes find him sitting on the floor up against the wall in the hotel corridor. He looks tired, his hair’s slightly mess
y and his clothes a little out of place, but he still makes my blood pressure spike. He watches me carefully as he stands, as though trying to suss out how I’m feeling.

  “I need to talk to you.” He swallows hard, and walks towards me slowly, concern written all over his face.

  I back up into the room and he follows, shutting the door softly behind him.

  “In a minute. There’s something I need to do first.”

  I close the distance between us and place both my hands on his cheeks. I reach up on my tiptoes and press my lips firmly against his. It takes him a few seconds to wake up and respond, but as soon as he wraps his arms round my back and pulls me close to his chest, I tilt my head and allow his tongue to deepen the kiss. Eventually, we both pull away breathless and he rests his forehead against mine.

  “You’re not mad?” He asks apprehensively and I want to smoothen out that frown on his forehead.

  “I was.” I admit honestly. “I haven’t been feeling great recently. A little tired and emotional. I think it’s dealing with the new store on top of running Proposals back at home. We’ve been so busy lately. As soon as this store’s up and running, I’m going to step back for a little while. Jess is more than capable. So this on top of all that really upset me.” I shrug and pull myself out of his arms. “It was a shock to hear her voice when I was expecting you. To know she was there with you, and I wasn’t.”

  “I wasn’t there with her. She was just there.”

  I nod. “Yeah I get that, Ryan told me. It just hit a nerve. Kind of reminded me of the wicked witch.” That was our name for Alex because I couldn’t handle actually having her name on my lips after her betrayal.

  He takes my hand in his and wraps them both round my back, pulling me towards him.

  “I can only apologise. For her. For Shannon. For everything I’ve allowed you to be hurt by. But I promise you here and now, I would never intentionally hurt you, Laurel. And I will never, ever cheat on you. You’re worth so much more than that.” He runs his knuckles down my cheek and kisses me once on the lips.

  “I can’t believe you’re actually here.” I grin against his lips then duck my head into his chest, snuggling my cheek against him.

  “I just had to make sure you were okay. I could hear you crying on the phone to Ryan, and I wanted to be the one to comfort you. Even if it was me you were mad at.”

  I get my phone and scroll to the message I received from the unknown number.

  “Yeah, I got this. I’m guessing that’s Shannon’s number. It just shook me a little.” I hand my phone over to him and he compares the number to his contacts.

  “That bitch.” He mumbles as he falls back onto the bed and runs his hand through his hair.

  “Yep. Anyway, I’m really sick of thinking about her tonight. How long can you stay for?” I crawl on top of him, straddling his waist and running my hands over his chest.

  His eyes go straight to my breasts when I lean over and place my hands either side of his head. He grips my thighs, then rolls his hips upwards so his denim covered cock is pressing into my most intimate place.

  “I’m meeting a potential client in Birmingham at midday. So I can give you another six hours.” I roll my hips to meet his, and bite my lip at the friction that’s making my clit throb and pulse with the need to be satisfied.

  “Do you want to sleep?” I whisper, concerned he’s just driven two hours in the middle of the night to make sure I’m okay.

  His hands move to my ass and press me down even further onto his cock, then creep under my vest, rising to cup my bare breasts.

  “I want to sink inside my girlfriend for the next five hours, then sleep for the last one. Sound good?”

  I squeal with laughter when he flips me onto my back and covers my body with his.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Chapter Seven

  Laurel

  I shut off the heater and roll down the window to let the cool air inside. I need it desperately to keep myself awake. My tired eyes try to close but I shake my head vigorously and sit up straight to avoid getting too comfortable. I feel like I’ve been in the car for days, but as I glance down at the clock, I realise it’s actually only been two hours. It’s Friday afternoon and I decided to leave Manchester earlier to beat the rush hour traffic. I quickly turn the radio up and start singing to Beyoncé’s Partition to distract myself.

  I turn on to the country roads that will lead to Stamford, and glance again in the rear-view mirror. My eyes narrow when I see a motorcycle, practically pressed up against the window. The road is narrow, definitely not for overtaking unless maybe you’re stuck behind a tractor doing ten miles an hour. The dickhead is so close to my bumper it looks like he’s actually in the car with me.

  Usually I’m calm and collected and road rage has never got the better of me, but now I can feel the giant ball of irritation bouncing around inside, trying to break free. What if I had to suddenly stop? If a little kid ran into the road and I had to hit the brake to avoid hitting it? Some sick, twisted part of me would love to try it and see what the asshole does. The engine revving brings my attention back to the mirror and I see his hand moving. I roll my eyes. He wants me to move over and let him past. Hmm, shall I?

  I don’t think so.

  He can wait.

  I go back to singing, deciding it’s best to ignore him. His engine keeps revving and cutting through the beat of the music. I’m never going to be able to concentrate until he’s gone, so I move over to the side of the road and slow down to let him past.

  What a jerk.

  I watch as the motorcycle comes storming up my right hand side and I suck in a breath at the sheer power of it. I’ve never even been this close to one. Never been bothered before. But it’s actually pretty cool. The rider turns his head towards my window and salutes, before raising the front of the bike up in a wheelie, then accelerating off into the distance. There’s something incredibly sexy about a motorcycle. Something I never realised before. That guy was probably a mid-fifties, bearded, tatted lager lout, but the bike was incredibly hot. All sleek design, hot metal and shiny paintwork. I sit back in the seat and wonder how I could get James on the back of one. There’s definitely a fantasy there I’ve only just tapped into.

  Well, damn! Thank you Mr Asshole.

  Maybe there was actually something good to come of that little encounter.

  My phone beeping snaps me out of my little daydream. I look over at my phone on the dock, speaking of the Sex God himself. I’ve perked right up now, all thoughts of sleep far from my mind.

  Solve for x: 192y - (62*84) = 12x + 45y

  Huh? He’s such a freaking weirdo. Clearly the text was not meant for me. I pull over onto the petrol station forecourt and edge slowly up to the pump. I cut the engine, grab my bank card and keys, then type out a quick reply.

  Wtf??

  I climb out the car, sliding my phone into my back pocket, and nudge the car door shut with my hip. A loud rumble reaches my ears. Another bike. I look round as I pick up the pump and see the same idiot who passed me earlier pull onto the forecourt too. I can’t miss the bright red paintwork. He pulls up to the pump the other side of mine and slows. My mind’s focused on the bike but my eyes can’t help their own little assessment of the rider too. He flips the kickstand with his foot, then swings his leg over the back of the bike. He pulls off his helmet and I want to laugh at my earlier statement. There’s no beard, and definitely not mid-fifties. He must be at least six feet, mid-twenties and no sign of lager lout either; perfect six pack is more likely. He runs a hand through his dark hair to unflatten it, and my eyes drop immediately to the pump when he turns.

  God, the last thing I want is for him to notice and remember me.

  Once the nozzle’s in the fuel tank, I lean my side against the car while I wait, and chance a quick look over my shoulder at the biker.

  It takes me a few seconds to realise that he’s not moving. His whole body is facing in my direction and his eyes are slow
ly making their way down my body and back up again. It’s completely shameless; he’s making no attempt at hiding it. When his eyes reach mine, I glare right at him. Maybe once upon a time I would have enjoyed a guy like him being so open about his heated inspection, but now it gets me riled up. I raise an eyebrow at him, confirming I did in fact catch him doing it and the corners of his lips turn upward. That is not what I was aiming for.

  I don’t want him to be entertained.

  I want him to be remorseful.

  His body moving snaps me out of our stare-off, then I realise he’s actually coming over here. Shit, he obviously thought I was coming onto him. I know I look more than a little alarmed because one corner of his mouth lifts even higher in a smirk.

  He reaches me in all of about four seconds with his long strides, and places his arm on the roof of my car, cockily leaning his side against the trunk. Silence permeates the air around us. His is amusement, mine is irritation. A click is the only sound I hear, and it tears my eyes away from his and down to the pump in my hand.

  “I think that means you’re full, grandma.”

  My confused eyes fly back to his. Grandma, what the hell?

  “You were doing forty on a sixty back road. No other cars about. Grandma.” He shrugs, still grinning.

  I narrow my eyes, completely offended at his insult and put the pump back with more force than necessary. He continues to watch me as I put the cap back and shut the cover. That road is the same road that Cassie’s parents had their car accident. Sure, it was at the hands of another driver, but I don’t leave anything to chance now and take it as slow as I can get away with.

  “Just because I don’t drive like a maniac, doesn’t mean I’m a grandma.” I bring my hands to my hips and tap my foot out of frustration.

  He seems to enjoy this, because the smile only widens, and he crosses his arms, leaning his back against my car.