Chapter 20 Christopher
Wednesday
The hotel lobby seems like a crime scene when I enter the hotel. There are police standing to either side, talking to hotel staff and guests. They’re taking notes in their notepads, looking at the guests’ phones.
My heart rate immediately spikes and my mind goes to the worst-case scenario. But there’s no trace of blood on the floor. No ambulances outside.
I keep my head low, taking long deep breaths and head toward the elevators. I avoid eye contact with everyone and quickly pull out my phone.
Everything okay?
Skater Boy
Yeah, I’ll explain when you get to my suite.
Alexander’s immediate response helps me push down the growing dread that has begun clawing its way into my throat, like a zombie pulling itself from a grave.
Once I hit the fifth floor, I turn and head down the hallway. I breathe a sigh of relief at the familiar sight of Rob standing guard by Alexander’s door.
“Jesus, what happened to you?” I try to take in what I’m seeing.
Rob lowers a towel with ice that he’s holding up to his cheek. There are scratches all across his face and neck, some that have drawn blood.
Someone really did a number on him.
“You don’t want to know,” he says, pulling the door key from his pocket and tapping it on the reader to let me in.
“After you,” I say, my hand outstretched to let him in first.
“I’ve got to head down to the lobby,” he says, shaking his head disapprovingly.
The door closes behind me, and I hear Alexander call my name from the bedroom. After flicking my shoes off by the door, I grab a bottle of water from the table, parched from the long tube ride back from the O2, and make my way in to him.
I open the bottle and begin drinking it. Alexander is lost in his phone.
“She looks psychotic,” Alexander finally says, looking up as I reach him at the bed. He passes his phone to me as I sit down beside him.
Who looks psychotic? A fan? What have I missed?
The video begins to play again on loop, and I rub my eyes. I watch it a second time, just to ensure my eyes aren’t deceiving me.
“Damn, you’re not wrong.” I pass the phone back. “She looks possessed.”
“Right.”
The way Alexander’s leg twitches underneath the blanket tells me that this has rattled him more than he is giving away.
The poor guy.
First the TV interview. Then the nightclub. Then the alarm on Sunday night, and now this. Clearly, this Rita woman is not all there. She’s clearly delusional if she believes she’s in some kind of relationship with him.
Or have I missed something?
Is there something going on here I don’t know about?
“Don’t tell me this is what happens when people start catching feelings for you. They start going crazy.” I reach for his leg under the blankets and shake it, forcing a smile to his face.
“Only the British ones,” he says, winking and lifting the cover, motioning for me to join him. His gaze is expectant.
“Lucky I’ve been possessed for decades already then. Even the Devil himself wouldn’t get a foothold in here.” I point to my heart as I unbutton my shirt and trousers, removing my phone from the pocket before joining him in bed.
I lean over and he opens his arm, allowing me to snuggle up into him. The stubble from his cheek rubs up against mine as I kiss him before I lower my head to his shoulder.
The glare of light from my phone pulls my attention to my hand, and I raise it to my face to unlock it.
Kelly
He seems like a keeper to me.
I can’t move quickly enough to hide Kelly’s message from Alexander’s view. He drops his phone on the duvet and snatches the phone out of my hand.
“A keeper, hey?” He raises his eyebrows.
My cheeks instantly burst with heat as my heart jumps to my throat.
She’s not wrong. I get the feeling that this really is developing into something more serious. Sharing the same bed for three of the last four nights is definitely more than just a booty call.
But I don’t want to feed his ego any more than I already did after tonight’s show.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I say, snatching the phone back. I stretch to put it on the bedside table out of reach. “Kelly’s never been a good judge of character. If there was a sport for poor judgment, she’d have enough to start her own team.”
“Is that so?” he asks, smirking, and leans over to kiss my forehead in a way that instantly sets butterflies off in my stomach.
It’s like every kiss, every touch, removes another brick from the wall built around my heart. It still feels too early to let him all the way in, but enough bricks have fallen over the last six days for him to be able to see over the wall to the vulnerable side of me.
“Talking of family members, I’m intrigued to hear what your parents thought of me.” I roll over, resting my arms on his chest, my chin atop the back of my hands. I stare deeply into his eyes.
I haven’t cared this much about anyone since...
Nope.
Nope.
You’re here with Alexander.
Stop thinking about him.
Ryan has slowly been clawing his way back into my thoughts with a fishhook ever since his text the other night.
Even earlier at the venue, when I was riding Alexander’s cock, I closed my eyes momentarily and for a split second I pictured Ryan and not Alexander beneath me.
Thankfully, Rob bursting into the room snapped me out of it, but the bitter aftertaste of the image still lingers.
“Earth to Christopher,” Alexander says, snapping his fingers in front of my eyes.
“Sorry, what was that?” I shake my head.
“The reviews have yet to come in, but I haven’t seen my mom laugh like that in forever.” His smile produces a dimple in his right cheek.
It’s a dimple I could fall into and stay lost inside of forever.
“You saw that?”
Given how big the O2 is, I’m surprised he could make us out.
“I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night.” His deadpan response makes me question whether he’s being serious or not.
“I just thought that was your lazy eye.” I allow my eyes to cross as I stare at him. I’m hedging my bets on the latter.
“Do you always joke around when someone is trying to be serious with you?” he asks.
The muffled sound of his phone ringing breaks the awkward silence, giving me more time to ponder my response.
Maybe I do?
Maybe I just want to keep him at arm’s length.
I know how hard I can fall when I do allow myself to catch feelings. That’s why I always say Catch phrases not feelings.
“What’s up?” Alexander says, putting the phone on speaker and resting it on his chest. Paul’s name appears on the screen.
“Connie’s on the call too,” Paul shares.
“Right, what’s going on?” Alexander’s leg starts to twitch again under the duvet.
“Well, the police are dealing with Rita. They have her in custody and have gathered all the witness statements, but it seems to be blowing up all over social media,” Connie says.
“I’ve seen.” Alexander shakes his head at me.
“It’s going to be all over the news by morning. I’ve been fielding calls from journalists nonstop for the last hour.” Connie sounds unamused.
Is this what his life is like?
Is this what I’m signing up for?
“I’ve spoken with Rita’s publicist, and they’re going to have her admitted to rehab. Get her professional help. Apparently, her husband filed for divorce after the images in the press Sunday, and she’s been AWOL ever since.”
“Thanks for letting me know. What am I meant to do with that?” Alexander’s leg now looks more like an Irish dancer’s. I reach down to calm it, and start rubbing gently to try and soothe him.
“Well, the media are going to run with the story whether we like it or not. They’re insinuating you’ve been having an affair. There’s even speculation that your new song is about her.”
“Right.” Alexander pushes himself upright against the headboard. The phone drops into his lap as his shoulders stiffen.
“We want to be respectful to Rita and her family, allow them to lead on this, especially given the sensitivity of the matter. But the speculation is actually helping to drive interest in the new live album and especially in Stolen Moments. Nathan forwarded the latest Spotify presaves for the album, and you’ve nearly broken Taylor Swift’s record.
” There’s an awkward pause as Connie clears her throat.
“We think we should let the speculation play out and have you lie low in the hotel until then.”
The hesitation in Connie’s voice is clear.
Alexander had mentioned wanting to get out and do something normal on his day off, and since I’m not required for any family obligations until Friday evening and work is now parked till Monday, I’d planned to surprise him and go to the skateboard park in Alexandra Palace. His mom had said it was a great idea.
But I can feel that plan slipping through my fingers, quicker than grains of sand.
“But I’ve made plans.” Alexander folds his arms across his chest and lets out a deep exhale.
“It’s already like a circus outside, Alex. The paparazzi are swarming the building like vultures, and this situation will probably have thousands of fans descending on the hotel come morning,” Paul chimes in.
Alexander’s shoulders drop as he lets out another deep exhale.
This must be what his life is like all the time.
Held prisoner in his own room. Not free to live a normal life. Like a caged animal in a zoo. Let out to perform for everyone watching before being locked away again, only for the cycle to repeat the next day and the day after that.
“Fine,” Alexander says, hanging up the phone and chucking it on the bedside table.
“Looks like we’re stuck here,” he says. His face is downcast as he turns back to me.
Part of me knows we could make the most of the situation, but I know how much he was looking forward to getting out and about for the day. To see the city rather than going, as he put it, from hotel, to studio, to venue, repeat.
My gaze drifts across the room to the walk-in wardrobe as I reach for the noise cancellation earbuds. Then it dawns on me.
“Fuck that. I’ve got an idea.”
“Really?” Alexander’s face lights up.