Chapter 6
Chapter Six
LUCA
I knew as soon as I said the words that I’d pushed Ollie too far.
He stiffened, the blissed-out guy and his dopey relaxed grin vanishing instantly. “Ah, I don’t think we should. I mean, this was great and all, but—”
“Forget it,” I said gently, cutting him off. I didn’t want to hear his reasons. His excuses for why he didn’t want more. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
This is why you shouldn’t play with straight boys.
I huffed and ran a hand over my face. I’d learned that lesson already. It wasn’t Ollie’s fault he wasn’t attracted to me. It wasn’t his fault he was the first person in years to see me, not just Luca Weston.
Nor was it his fault my imagination had got carried away while I took him apart with my mouth.
It always did like to go a bit wild, picturing things I should know were out of my reach by now.
Envisioning lazy mornings waking him up with a blowjob.
Seeing him smile at me from the wings of the stage.
Throwing my all into every performance because I knew I’d be walking away from the spotlight and straight into his waiting arms. I should’ve learned by now to not get carried away.
The blame lay with me. Honestly, what had I been thinking? Picturing a whole future with him because he’d been nice to me? Because I felt a connection unlike anything I’d felt before?
Suddenly he was too close. Having him pressed against me and knowing I couldn’t touch him again was the worst kind of torture. I couldn’t just drop his hand and move though. That would be cruel after what we’d just shared.
Giving a fake yawn, I let go of his hand and stretched my arms over my head. Nope. That still wasn’t enough. I could still feel him. Still smell him.
Fuck. He shouldn’t affect me this much. It couldn’t be healthy.
Jumping to my feet, I paced the tiny space and pretended to shake and stretch my limbs. “Man, I am cramped up.”
“Uh-huh.” Ollie’s voice was thin, and he wasn’t looking at me.
“Do you think it’ll be much longer?” I bounced on my toes, eyeing the closed doors like I could open them through sheer will alone. Anything to be away from Ollie before I did something stupid—like go to my knees again and beg him to let me see him once we got out of here.
“Hopefully not,” Ollie replied. He sounded far away, the hand I’d been holding slowly opening and closing.
I paused, staring down at it. Ollie glanced up and followed my gaze. He blushed hard, tucking his hand under his thigh. “Should we call them again?”
“No,” I said with a sigh. I plopped to the floor, sitting opposite Ollie. That probably wouldn’t make things easier, given that was where we’d sat earlier before I’d fucked everything up. “They’ll be busy saving people who need them. We can wait it out.”
Ollie nodded, a muscle in his jaw ticking. He didn’t reply, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the wall.
It was too reminiscent of how he’d looked seconds before he came. I cleared my throat to get him to open his eyes. To look at me so I could remember why climbing back onto his lap was a stupid idea. “So…got any interesting plans for the rest of the day?”
His eyes snapped open, his gaze hot. Shit. Was he thinking about the plans I’d suggested? “Not really. I booked the whole day off for the interview. I’d planned on maybe taking Suzie out to lunch and then meeting Callum this evening.”
I winced. “Yeah…maybe not. Does Suzie not work?”
Ollie snorted. “Not often. Well, that’s not true. She works, but she can’t ever stay in a job for longer than a week. Her CV is longer than most people’s shopping list.”
“How does she get by then? Do her parents still support her?” I knew a lot of people relied on their parents until their mid-twenties, but I couldn’t think of anything worse.
I liked to pull my own weight, even before we’d hit the big time.
From collecting glasses to pizza delivery, I’d taken any job if it equalled a paycheque.
“Not her parents, no.” Ollie sighed and raised an eyebrow.
I groaned as the penny dropped. “Fuck, Ollie. Not only did she cheat on you with your best friend, but she did it while you were supporting her financially?”
“Got it in one,” Ollie said, rubbing his forehead. “Thing is, I never minded paying for stuff for her. I knew I was lucky because I’d found a job doing something I loved. It didn’t seem right to tell her she needed to be unhappy doing something when I could provide enough for both of us.”
“Was she grateful, at least?”
Ollie shrugged, and my hatred for the faceless Suzie increased. “I guess. She did bitch at me about the hours I worked, but I couldn’t really turn down overtime when it was offered. Not if we wanted to make rent every month…oh fuck.”
“What?”
“Rent,” he said with a curse. “Both our names are on the rental agreement.”
“Why would you do that if you’re the one paying the rent?”
Ollie rubbed his head again. I itched to grab his hand and kiss the stress away. “She insisted. Said it was safer because if we ever broke up, she needed to make sure she had a roof over her head. I didn’t argue because…”
“Because you didn’t think you were going to break up,” I finished for him. “I get why you did it, but that’s fucking shitty. I’m guessing you don’t think she’ll move out then.”
“Nope.” His chin dropped to his chest, and he suddenly looked much older. “I don’t think she will. She’ll probably get Callum to move in and take over paying.”
“Then he’s an idiot too.”
Ollie lifted his head, a tiny smile threatening to crack through his dark mood. “You calling me an idiot?”
I pretended to consider it. “If it looks like one and talks like one, then…yeah.”
As I’d hoped, the smile cracked through, followed by a deep chuckle. “Well, given I’m now probably single, homeless, and stuck in a dead-end job, I can’t argue with you.”
“You should call Identity,” I urged, returning to our earlier conversation. “If this is your dream job, you can’t walk away from it.”
“Yeah.” Ollie’s smile faded. “Maybe.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. I wanted to encourage him. But he wasn’t mine to push.
He was a stranger.
Even if he felt like anything but.
Something popped into my brain. “Hey, what about your dad? You said about your mum, but is he still around?”
“No.” Ollie’s face turned stony, his hands clenching on his lap. “He’s not around. Hasn’t been for a very long time.”
Something heavy sat in my stomach. “Have you been on your own since your mum passed?”
He nodded once before coolly meeting my eyes. “I don’t want your pity, Luca.”
It wasn’t pity I wanted to give him, but comfort. His no-nonsense tone told me this wasn’t a topic for discussion.
“How about you?” Ollie asked, turning the subject back on me. “What are you up to for the rest of the day?”
I contained my sigh. I had no right to expect him to open up to me more than he already had.
But fuck, how I wanted that right.
Following his lead, I told him about the interview I was supposed to be having with Identity before heading to London to meet the rest of the band. We were scheduled to shoot a music video for our upcoming single before flying to LA for show rehearsals.
We fell into an easy conversation. I found myself opening up to Ollie, telling him little details that might seem insignificant but were anything but.
Things I’d never normally share with someone I barely knew, let alone a journalist. Like where my favourite places to eat in London were.
How Arlo and I often teamed up against Kai and Silas for prank wars while on tour.
The fact that I was exhausted by the constant media scrutiny.
That last one had Ollie interrupting me. “If you feel like that, why are you going to an interview today?”
I gave him a wry smile. “My feelings aren’t taken into account. My manager thinks this is needed…especially with last night’s escapades being splashed everywhere.”
Ollie made a sympathetic noise. “After this though? Will you get a break from it all?”
“Yeah, for a bit. We’ve got five months until the tour starts. Kevin, that’s our manager, is trying to arrange for a journalist to tag along. To document the whole thing from start to finish.”
“And you don’t want that,” Ollie surmised. “Because you won’t be able to relax knowing you’ve got the press watching your every move.”
“Got it in one. That’s the other reason Kevin made me come here today. He’s hoping the person I’m meeting with will be able to see the benefits of the journalist being someone from Identity.”
“Kevin’s your manager, right? Why can’t you just tell him no?”
I picked at a loose thread at the knee of my jeans.
As with all the outfits I wore to media events, it had been preselected for me.
It drove me fucking crazy how many of them had rips and holes.
Considering how much they cost, you’d think they’d be in one piece. But no. Apparently, this was fashion.
Fuck, I was getting old.
“I wish I could,” I said glumly. “But Kevin’s been with us for years. We got royally fucked over by our first manager, and Kevin is a thousand times better than him.”
“That’s fair.” Ollie pursed his lips like he was unsure if he should continue. “But if you’re really uncomfortable about having press around you for the tour, you should put your foot down.”
“Maybe.” There wasn’t any point explaining how the dynamic between Kevin and the band worked.
We might pay him, but he was the one in charge.
As a journalist himself, I half expected Ollie to try to convince me that having the press there wouldn’t be invasive.
That the benefits outweighed the negatives.
But he didn’t. He just encouraged me to put myself first.
When was the last time anyone had done that?
“I want to see you again.”
Ollie was silent for a few moments, his face progressively getting more crimson. Fuck, I wanted to know what he was thinking. What was he imagining to turn his cheeks such a gorgeous colour? “That’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”