Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
It’s only four hours before Josh and I are up and about again. We should be like zombies after such a crazy active night, but it’s like we’ve slept for ten hours solid.
My boyfriend is light on his feet as he cooks us bacon and eggs, dressed like a casual god in his t-shirt and boxers, and I have so much energy I want to dance around the kitchen in my dressing gown, even though my ass is still sore from a double battering.
I love having a sore ass again. Weird, but true.
I prepare our little dining table with cutlery as Josh butters the toast, and we sit down together to eat. This morning both of us are smiling. And I mean actually smiling. It’s amazing.
Amazing!!
I’ve missed that word.
“Are you out on a proposal tonight?” I ask, and Josh nods as he chows down some bacon.
“Yeah. One of my regulars, over in Tottenham. A decent length one. Five hours.”
My heart speeds up a little. We were so busy with each other last night, I haven’t shared the news with him…
“Nice.” I take a bite of toast. “I’m, uh, going to be in Shepherd’s Bush. Mine’s for four.”
Josh pauses, a forkful of bacon poised in mid-air.
“You’re what?”
I keep smiling. “I’m going to be in Shepherd’s Bush working tonight. Four hours.”
“You accepted another proposal? Already?”
I nod, but don’t meet his eyes.
“Yep. I accepted another proposal. I accepted three for this week, actually. My calendar looks so much better for it. Much more healthy. None of my regulars yet, just newbies. You know. In case my regulars have seen me. They’re much more likely to have spotted me online, right?
They know the sight of me pretty damn well. ”
I’m gabbling and I know it. My giggle is weak, and I feel goofy.
Josh puts his fork down, clearly contemplating what I’ve just revealed.
And I know how it sounds. Three proposals right off the back is ambitious.
Maybe impulsive. I clicked them when I was high on the way back in a cab after all, but I still want to do them.
Four hours of sleep hasn’t dented my enthusiasm.
I reach over and take Josh’s hand, hoping my stare conveys enough of my soul that he can read the truth in me. I don’t want him to overthink things, or overcomplicate things, or take the wind out of my newfound sails.
“I’m ready,” I say. “I can do this.”
The loving concern is back in his eyes, and it makes me want to hug him for ever.
“I know, and that’s admirable. But I’m going to be out, and my phone won’t be available.”
“Yeah, I know that, but it’s ok. I’ll be fine.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
“It’s a quick turnaround. One proposal straight to three when you’re just out of the starting gate again. Don’t try to sprint from the off. Take your time. You don’t need the pressure. You’ve taken enough pressure already.”
I keep my smile at full beam, resolute, because I’m determined. I filled up my calendar for a reason last night, high in the aftermath of User 2644 or not. I’m not succumbing to another bout of nerves bordering on depression. I’ve had enough of that shit.
“I want to do this,” I say again. “Really, Josh. I want to do this.”
“Ok, that’s fine. I’m happy to rearrange Tottenham. My client will rebook for next week, I’m sure.”
I shake my head in horror, because interrupting his schedule is the last thing I want.
“No, no, no! Tiff’s phone will be on, or Eb’s, or Bodica’s. Hell, even Mum and Dad’s, if I need someone.”
Josh shakes his head right back at me.
“Tiff, Eb and Bodica might all be busy on proposals themselves, and your parents are in Australia.”
I shrug. “I can check with the girls, see if their nights are booked up.”
“Or you could rest up a bit. Take it steady.”
I put down my cutlery, because I’m not sinking back into the comfort of nothingness. It would be so easy to fall back into the world of Cake Baker and chocolate chip cookies.
“Josh, listen to me. Seriously. Now I’ve had a taste of what’s been missing, I’m not giving it up. No way. I’ve had way too much time out already.”
We have an unspoken standoff, eye to eye.
And then he nods. My amazing boyfriend nods.
“Yeah, ok. I get it, and I applaud you. Really, Ells, you’re a superstar who deserves her life back. I’ll be supporting you every step of the way, even if it does mean I’m crapping myself with my phone on silent while I’m busy.” He smirks. “I can live with that if it makes you happy.”
“We both deserve our lives back,” I reach over to squeeze his hand. “This is just step one.”
He squeezes mine back.
“Step one, three, seven hundred and eighty-five, it doesn’t matter. You do what makes you happy, whatever road you want to take. I’ll be your biggest cheerleader.”
God, I love that man.
We finish up our bacon and eggs, and I’m clearing our plates when Josh starts scrolling through his phone at the table. His eyebrows are pitted, concentrating, and I get the wriggling worm of nerves in my guts as he scrolls.
I take a breath and force myself to ask the question.
“Anything I should know about? Anything… scary?”
I’m relieved as all fuck when he grins.
“Nah. Just thousands of people arguing over whether Katie and Connor make a good couple, or whether they’re a couple of coke snorting, fame hungry cunts. I haven’t seen your name mentioned once so far. Not in any of the fresh posts.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“Not once? Are you serious?”
“Deadly. Check for yourself.”
I take his phone and scroll back through the feed he’s just been looking at. He’s right. There is a load of Connor-related bitching amongst the latest political crisis posts, but every scrap of trolling I see is all about Katie and their antics together. For once, there’s nothing about me.
It’s insane when I think back to the early days after Cannes.
When everyone was trying to find me, to talk to me, to bitch about me, or make deals for gossip.
There were nasty memes all over social media, and we love you, Connor threads of support for such a bitch leaving him.
Now, just like that, the rumours about me have been buried under all the fresh drama.
“Wow,” I say. “It’s crazy.”
“It’s fucking brilliant more like it. The cunt had it coming.”
So, the storm clouds of trolling have blown right on over to Connor and his latest conquest. I hope the asshole has an umbrella ready.
Actually, no, I don’t. I hope he gets soaked right through.
“I saw nothing on the news pages, either,” Josh adds. “And even Juicee Goss Queens have removed your story from the top of their feed.”
“Hell. That really is something.”
The cow bags at Juicee Goss Queens have been milking my story for likes and comments ever since the drama first kicked off. They got thousands and thousands of followers off the back of it. Over five million views on one single post. Ella Edwards, the cheating whore who created an idol!
I did help create an idol, over seven years of hard work, but that means nothing to anyone. Especially not them. Not in the way they think it does. Connor’s stupid wallowing song about me may have gone viral and propelled him into the public eye, but that wasn’t my doing. Far from it.
Maybe his bullshit antics with Katie will at least add some shade to his holier than thou status.
“This is amazing,” I say, transfixed as I scout the news feeds.
Katie and Connor, Katie and Connor, Katie and Connor…
Josh clears his throat while I’m still scrolling. I look over at him.
“If you’re feeling this much more confident, shall I message Tiff again? Make sure the paps are still gone from Belgravia?”
The wriggly worm comes back with a vengeance at that. My confidence is growing fast, but Belgravia still feels out of reach. If people ruined our home for us. If they found us there and kept us trapped, or we had to move permanently…
“It’s ok if not,” Josh says, reading my face. “It’s just a suggestion. Your pace, baby.”
“I’d love to go home, it’s just…”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, my bad. I was just excited by the social media calm after the shit storm.”
“I am, too. I’m really excited. Crazy excited! It’s just that doing proposals is a little bit different to moving back home, isn’t it? Safer. We’d both be trapped in the apartment if things kicked off again. I wouldn’t be able to leave the place, and wouldn’t want you to face it, either.”
“I’d face anything for you, Ella. Anything.”
“I know you would.”
Josh’s eyes are so beautiful, his brows so firm as he stares at me so protectively.
It takes me back to the time a bunch of idiots were calling me trash in the street before I moved to Belgravia. A shitty byproduct of an exhibitionism client too close to home.
Josh kicked their bikes over and told them to fuck the hell off in no uncertain terms. It was amazing. No, scratch that. It was magnificent.
I know he’d do the same for overzealous photographers and people shoving microphones in my face, but I don’t want that. I want to be able to go home without any chaos, safe and sound.
“Hopefully Connor will still be acting like a total tosser in a few months’ time,” Josh fills the silence. “Your name will be long buried in the social media graveyard by then.”
My eyes widen. Months. When I was playing cautious, that wasn’t exactly the timeline I was considering.
“What?” Josh asks. “It’ll be fine, Ella. Absolutely fine.”
“I was talking weeks tops before we try and go home, not months. Just enough time to assure myself that not everyone in the entire universe knows my face on sight. The cab driver last night sure didn’t.
Neither did the client.” I pause. “Hell, who knows? If Connor keeps being this much of a dickhead for the public, even just a couple of proposals might give me the confidence to face Belgravia. Last night set me off like a firecracker.”
“And so will tonight,” he says. “Another red-hot proposal will keep that firecracker burning bright.”
I adore how he smirks as he says firecracker. I feel Holly in my veins, back to life.
I go over and straddle my boyfriend, tangling my fingers in his bed messy hair. His purple streak is always so stand out in the morning.
“You were telling me not to go to anything a few minutes ago.”
“That was before I realised just how much shit Connor’s got himself into. And before I realised just how determined you are, my firecracker.” He pulls me in for a hug. “You can do whatever you want, at whatever speed you can handle. We’re team Josh and Ells, wherever that takes us.”
I rub his back, adoring the security of his arms.
“Team Josh and Ells is going to be taking us in two different directions tonight.” I’m smiling again at the thought. “Tottenham and Shepherd’s Bush. We’ll both be red hot firecrackers in hardcore action later.”
“We’ll compare notes when we get home.”
I giggle. “Notes… and plenty of other things.”
He pulls away enough to plant a kiss on my lips.
“Now you’re talking, firecracker.”
I feel his swollen cock underneath me, and it is so tempting to take a round of his dick, but I don’t do it. I want him full to the brim and gagging for it when he gets to Tottenham. He values his five-star reviews as much as I do mine.
I may have put myself on a social media ban, but I break my own rules and scroll through my own phone feed when Josh heads off to the bathroom. If nothing else, to keep me occupied.
Shower play would be another pre-Tottenham temptation, so it’s kinda lucky this place doesn’t have one that’s big enough for two.
It’s another thing to chalk up on the list of reasons to get back home to Belgravia ASAP.
I miss soaping each other up and fucking under the torrent of steamy hot water. And I miss other things…
Golden showers haven’t been on our agenda since Cannes. Not even a hint of one.
Damn, on reflection we’ve been vanilla. Wayyy too fucking vanilla. Magnolia wallpaper has more kinks than I’ve shown since we landed back in the UK.
Jeez, I’m ready for more flavours.
I’m now a very hungry girl.
I call up my proposal for later and take a fresh look at the details.
Yep. This one is going to be another flavour for sure. Another client I’ve never seen before, wanting to get down and dirty with a hardcorer like me.
My mouth is already watering at the thought.