Chapter 6
Chapter Six
ARLO
Twenty-seven years old – June
Things had changed between Jack and me.
It started after that day he pulled me out of my parents’ flat after delivering the arse kicking my dad had been asking for for years.
Seeing Jack lose control like that shouldn’t have been a turn on, but it had been. Not like that was difficult though. If I was being honest, everything Jack did was a turn on.
Since that day, most of the boundaries between us suddenly became non-existent. Jack took being overprotective to the extreme. From refusing to take time off to going through my phone, there wasn’t a line he seemed afraid to cross when it came to my safety.
I probably should’ve found it inappropriate. Suffocating. It should’ve chafed the way it had when he’d first started guarding me. I could look after myself, right?
But for some reason, Jack’s interference had the opposite effect. I felt cherished and cared for. I didn’t protest his actions because I didn’t want to. When I was around Jack, I felt happier and calmer than I had in…well, ever.
To anyone looking in from the outside, it looked like a normal client-guard relationship.
Only Jack and I knew any different.
Normal guards didn’t get a restraining order against your parents on your behalf because you found the paperwork too overwhelming.
Normal guards didn’t become so concerned about your mood swings that they researched psychiatrists before physically dragging you to an appointment.
Normal guards didn’t come to every subsequent appointment with you.
Nor did they hold you when you cried over finally getting a diagnosis.
They didn’t wipe your tears away as they reassured you that there was nothing wrong with having severe depression.
They didn’t promise to keep it hidden from your bandmates and management until you felt ready to tell them.
They didn’t sit beside your bed on the bad days while your body tried to adjust to the medication.
But, most of all, normal guards didn’t put their entire life on hold for years because they didn’t trust anyone else to watch over you the way they did.
I was well aware that what Jack and I shared wasn’t normal. That his whole life revolving around me was unhealthy. That I was being selfish in not encouraging him to pursue something outside of me and the band.
I knew all of this.
And I didn’t give a fuck.
Eight years working together had us gravitating toward one another, like a planet in orbit around the sun.
Which was appropriate. Without Jack acting as my tether, I had no idea how I would’ve survived the past few years. When I couldn’t see the light on my toughest days, Jack was there with a torch. When my meds needed readjusting, Jack was the one holding my hand as he drove me to see the psych team.
He even had his own room in my house, for Christ’s sake. It was slept in far more often than the one in the house he’d bought several years before.
None of the others knew. I mean, they knew we were close. From conversations with Luca, he for sure knew there was more between us than just the usual bodyguard-client relationship.
But none of them knew how much that boundary had been blurred.
They didn’t know that he was practically living with me.
They didn’t know how we would stay up most nights playing Mario Kart, Jack pouting like the sore loser he was when I inevitably kicked his arse.
They didn’t know he’d berate me for eating too many sweets, telling me it was the “path to diabetes” while at the same time quietly keeping the cupboards stocked with all my favourites.
Nor did they know that we spent every major holiday with each other, building on our traditions together.
Most of all, they didn’t know I was in love with Jack.
To be fair, Jack didn’t know that either. As messed up as our relationship had become, that was one line we hadn’t crossed. One we’d never cross.
Because Jack was straight.
Straight.
Didn’t stop me flirting with him or touching him at every possible opportunity. Touching him as much as I could get away with. Not that Jack seemed to think there was anything weird about it. He’d just pat my head like I was his little brother.
Or worse, a pet.
I knew he’d never see me in a romantic light, yet I couldn’t bring myself to stop my behaviour. Nor could I have anything serious with anyone else. Sure, I had the occasional meaningless hook-up. I even went on dates every now and then.
If those men happened to bear a passing resemblance to my bodyguard? Well, the less said about that, the better.
It never went as far as a second date, because no matter how much they resembled Jack, they weren’t him.
They never would be.
As time dragged on though, it was getting harder to ignore my feelings. I’d watched Kai mope over Silas since we were kids, knowing he’d never have a chance, and I’d pitied him.
Never had I imagined I’d be in the same situation. My only saving grace was that Jack didn’t seem interested in finding a long-term partner either. He never dated. He didn’t even sleep with anyone as far as I was aware.
Still, I was destined to be alone because I couldn’t stop my brain fixating on someone I couldn’t have.
It was like living inside a pressure cooker, knowing the release valve was out of reach. I was dangerously close to blowing. Close to letting all those feelings and desires rocket out of me, regardless of the damage it’d cause.
It was those frustrations that chased me out of bed at four a.m. and down to my practice studio. I was working through the set list for our next tour when the door creaked open, revealing Jack there with a pitying smile.
“Dark day?”
I grunted in response, my hands not pausing. I didn’t want his pity.
I wanted his cock.
Bad Arlo.
Jack disappeared from the room. When he returned a few minutes later, he was holding two steaming mugs.
He put them both on the table before flopping down into the armchair.
There never used to be any seating down here, but when Jack had started accompanying me, I’d added a few comfy couches, a big armchair and a low nest of tables.
There was even a mini fridge stocked with bottles of water and snacks.
I told him it was for me, for when I didn’t fancy going upstairs. In reality, it was all for him, to make him comfortable.
I paused in my playing as he put his head back against the cushion, his mouth stretching wide in a yawn. “What time is it?” I asked.
“Quarter past five.”
I huffed, my fingers twitching around the sticks. “Jack, go back up to bed.”
“Nope.” He crossed his legs at the ankles, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. “Comfy here, thanks.”
I sighed before returning to my playing.
It was pointless arguing with him. I’d tried many times over the years.
It wasn’t like my drumming woke him—this room had the best soundproofing on the market.
I was always careful to sneak past his door quietly, not wanting to disturb him.
It never worked. I was rarely down here for more than an hour before Jack tracked me down.
It was like he had some internal Arlo alarm that was triggered, even when he was sleeping.
Normally, him being here calmed me.
Not today though. Especially not with him sat like that, his muscled body stretched out for my perusal.
The thin shirt he slept in did fuck all to hide his deliciously broad chest, complete with dark hair peeking over the top.
Likewise, his cotton shorts fell in such a way that his cock imprint was easily visible, a thick bulge that had me wanting to fall to my knees just to mouth at it.
He stretched his arms higher as he gave another yawn, his T-shirt lifting and revealing the golden skin covering his abs. My irritation spiked as my cock hardened.
Come on, Jack. Give me a break.
But I couldn’t say that, not without revealing why I needed a break.
My mood didn’t improve as the morning went on.
I coaxed two orgasms out in the shower, but all it took was a glimpse of Jack in my kitchen for my lust to spike again.
He was sat at the island, dressed casually as we weren’t doing anything involving press or events today.
But it was the way he was sitting that had my mouth drying out.
He was leaning on his forearms, making the muscles bunch in a way that was positively sinful.
He didn’t look up as I entered, frowning down at the article he was reading on his tablet. I knew better than to think he wasn’t aware that I was there though. I’d tried, and failed, to surprise him many times in the past.
Without him acknowledging me though, I was able to drink him in fully.
I’d memorised every inch of him years ago, but it was never enough.
I liked to catalogue every change in him over time.
The small lines that had appeared around his eyes.
How different parts of his face crinkled depending on his expression.
There were a bunch of expressions I knew I’d never see though, like the face he made as he came. Or how he might smile at me as we stood together at the altar.
Yep. It was official. I’d lost it.
Thankful Jack couldn’t see my insane fantasies, I went to flick the kettle on. Like always, my favourite cup stood ready, a teabag and two sugars there. Usually it would make me smile—another reminder of the many small ways Jack looked after me.
Today though, it drew a scowl. We were basically a married couple, just without the sex and affection.
And fuck, I needed those things.
“What’s on the agenda?”