Chapter 19
I wake up to the sound of gulls and the low thrum of engines warming up.
Adrenaline courses through me. Where the fuck am I?
I sit bolt upright, naked in this enormous bed, heart racing.
I flop back to the mountain of pillows, remembering that I am now the girlfriend of a rock star, that’s where I am.
I go to my set of drawers, open the top one and select a pair of my underwear from the line of neatly folded garments.
I might be the girlfriend of a rock star, but I’m going to fold my own undies from now on, thank you very much.
Jock’s white t-shirt is part of a trail of clothes in both the bedroom and bathroom from last nights marathon session of getting reacquainted.
We got reacquainted on the bathroom shelf, we got reacquainted in the shower stall as water pounded us from every angle, finally, we got reacquainted in the bed, where after I had the best sleep I’ve had in days.
Blushing at the memory I pick up the t-shirt tug it over my head and stumble to the main deck in search of Jock .
Jock, steaming cup of coffee in hand, is pacing up and down with a worried look on his handsome face.
‘You weren’t in bed. I thought maybe you’d jumped ship.’ I reach up to give him a good morning kiss, soaking up his coffee aroma.
‘I was checking we hadn’t drifted into Italy,’ he says. ‘I want to make sure we are heading back to Scotland.’ He pauses, searching her face. ‘You sure about this? About me?’
I look around at the gleaming deck, the ridiculous luxury, the ocean stretching ahead, but none of that matters to me.
I look at him: devastatingly handsome, barefoot, stylish haircut, although currently a mess from bedhead, and his heart basically on his sleeve and what I see is a boy from Rhu.
‘No,’ I say. ‘But we’ve come this far, so… screw it. Let’s see what happens.’
Jock laughs, loud and surprised, and pulls me into a kiss that tastes like coffee and a brand new start. The Rock Star pulls away from Monaco, steady and slow.
I lean into the wind like I was always meant to leave this way.
The end.