Chapter 22
I slept my entire first flight. I woke up as we touched down, and I felt Kian gently shake me awake.
“We’re here, sleepyhead,” he said in that gruff tone of his, but his choice of words clearly showed the gentle side of him that had begun to peek through when he interacted with me. When had I turned into such a sap? Warm beds, pillows, and access to running water for this long was softening me. I needed my edge back; I had a feeling this city would eat me alive if I didn’t stay on my toes, fully aware and alert to danger. This time, it wouldn't be other homeless people, the police, or the cold that would have me at risk. No, here I knew it would be the ugly underbelly of money hidden by a charade of glitz and glamor that life rubbing shoulders with fame would offer. I rubbed my eyes and unbuckled as I stood.
“Where’s my bag?” I asked.
“I got it.” Kian had my backpack slung over his shoulder. I felt awkward standing there, not doing anything.
“I can take it.” I reached over to grab the strap.
“I got it,” he repeated. I saw two of his bandmates exchange a look, and that made me even more uncomfortable. It felt like I had walked into the middle of a family reunion, but I didn’t know anyone’s names, and they didn’t know I existed until yesterday. Add in my lack of worldly experience in many basic areas, and I felt like the odd man out in a way I had never known before.
When working at Kafe, the women who came in reeked of privilege, and they weren’t exactly overly friendly, but our differences weren’t massively noticeable. They hadn’t known I was homeless, so I was just another nine-to-five worker in their eyes. But now, here I was, a civilian amongst Hollywood stars. What made the chasm between our classes even more obvious was I had literally never left my little town or had a regular childhood or even knew what I was going to do after I stepped off this airplane. The playing field was not even, and it was making me anxious.
Put me on the streets with nothing but the clothes on my back, and I would figure it out. Put me on a plane with a man who had just recently become my boyfriend, who also happened to be famous and rich, and I felt all of my emotions clog up inside of me. I felt Myles squeeze my shoulder as he picked up on my inner turmoil.
“It’s just an adventure,” he whispered in my ear. I recalled our conversation from earlier. I had been inclined to stay. I felt like staying would be better for Myles’s sobriety. We were so early on in him being sober for this many weeks straight that it didn’t feel like the right move to rock the boat. As much as I wanted to go with Kian and see what would happen, I knew Myles had a solid sponsor here and an NA meeting that he liked going to. I had been ready to hurt my own heart to keep Myles clean, as much as it would suck to do so. I had been ready to chalk the last half a year up to an amazing experience. Such was life. As seasons shifted, we had to learn to say goodbye. I had gotten used to that. But Myles had convinced me to go.
“It will be an adventure, J,” he said, sounding excited. “You deserve to stay with someone who loves you like he does.”
I had scoffed at the word love, and Myles had just raised an eyebrow at me.
“We always talked about going to California. Fuck this town and the cold weather.” He had sounded so emphatic that I had laughed. “I’ll find a new support system, I promise. Plus, if anything happens to me, you’ll still have Kian,” he continued. That had cut off my laughter real quick.
“Stop talking like that,” I hissed. “You’re doing so good.” I felt my heart knot up in my chest at the sad look in Myles’s eyes. I knew he was struggling more than he let on. Sometimes, I wondered if he only fought to stay sober for me. Addiction was my worst kind of enemy because I knew that addicts would rather choose an altered state of consciousness from drugs even though their toxicity destroys all aspects of their life because for a moment, a tiny, brief moment, they felt okay.
I was shaken from my thoughts as the door to the plane was opened, and everyone began to disembark. Two Cadillac SUVs were waiting on the tarmac, and Gordon was ushering us into them. Already in the car was a driver and a man sitting in the passenger seat whom Kian introduced as Alex, his security guard. Kian and Ash sat in the middle bucket seats, and Myles and I sat in the third row. Other than the private jet, this car, with its leather seats and multiple knobs that controlled who knows what, was the nicest place I had ever sat in. It was a stark reminder of how completely out of my element I was.
“You okay back there?” Kian asked, turning slightly.
“Mmm hmm,” was all I gave him. If he sensed anything was off with me, he didn’t mention it. The car glided off, and I leaned back in my seat, watching the palm trees out the window. I half listened to Kian and Ash as they spoke in hushed tones. I understood that Gordon was going to put Kian’s house up for sale. The house Rose had died in, I presumed.
“Stay with me,” Ash said.
“I’m gonna move into the penthouse,” Kian replied.
Was I staying in the penthouse too? I wondered. We hadn’t exactly been living together in my hotel room, but we hadn’t not been either. But now everything was different. The dynamic had changed, and I didn’t know what was normal or what we should be doing in this situation.
“Gordon wants me to do a talk show tomorrow. He says if I play the grieving fiancée card, I can get ahead of the media shit show, and they’ll leave me alone faster.” Kian sighed.
“You definitely should. They’re just hungry for a story. Give them a story, and they’ll fuck off,” Ash encouraged him.
The words grieving fiancée made me shift in my seat; the air suddenly felt warm, and my shirt felt too tight.
“The fans are gonna go crazy over your new look, Jace.” Ash laughed. Kian reached up to stroke his beard.
“I’m gonna get a haircut tonight, but you think they’ll like the beard?” he asked.
“If they don’t, you can always shave it.” Ash reached over and pulled a bit of his hair.
“I like it,” I interjected. Ash looked over at me, his gray eyes were unreadable.
“Then I’ll keep it.” Kian reached back, searching for my hand.
“I’m sweaty from the plane.” I kept my hands in my lap. His fingers brushed over my knee.
“I don’t care,” he protested.
I sighed and unclasped my fingers, letting him take my hand in his big one. He squeezed it and then held it for the rest of the ride, even when I presumed it was uncomfortable for him to keep his arm bent at such an awkward angle.
About a half hour later, we pulled up to a gated neighborhood in Beverly Hills. We drove up to a swanky-looking building where the security guard got out and held the door open for us. A staff member met us to take our bags and led us into a building and onto the elevator. The elevator stopped on the ninth floor to let Ash off and then continued up to where it opened up directly into the penthouse. I was quickly overwhelmed by the tall ceilings, the huge expanse of marble floors, and the solid glass wall on one side of the main room.
“Let me show you to your rooms.” The housekeeper, who had introduced herself as Zara, brought Myles and I upstairs and down a thickly carpeted hallway. She put Myles in a room that boasted a blue carpet, a huge bed with blue velvet-looking linens, and a massive bathroom.
“I’m gonna sleep for a bit,” Myles told me.
Please stay with me , I wanted to scream. I hadn’t felt this uncomfortable since I became aware that my father hadn’t loved me enough to stay. Instead, I smiled and told him to rest up. Zara brought me further down the hallway to double doors that led into a big room that was almost completely white.
“This is my room?” I asked. Zara nodded.
“I’m going to make dinner.” She excused herself and then left, closing the doors behind her. I slipped off my Ugg boots because I was afraid of getting the room dirty and walked around to explore. There was a large walk-in closet, a bathroom with all the amenities, and, of course, a California king-sized bed. What was I going to do with a bed this big all to myself? I wondered. My question was answered almost immediately when the doors opened again, and Kian strode in. He was rolling his suitcase, his guitar was slung over his shoulder, and my backpack was held in his hand.
“Sorry to make you wait. I had to make a quick phone call,” he explained as he pushed the door shut with his foot.
“You’re sleeping in here?” I stumbled over my words. Get it together, Jessamine , I said to myself in my head.
“Where else would I sleep?” He cocked his head, looking puzzled.
“I wasn’t sure what we were doing,” I admitted as I felt a huge rush of relief come over me. Maybe my Kian was still here. Maybe we could keep what we had created back at home. The home that was no longer my home.
“Everything is exactly the same.” Kian came over and tilted my chin up so I could look at him. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. All that is different is we’re in California, and you now know the rest of my story.”
“And everyone calls you Jace, I quit my job, your band hates me, and my face is all over the gossip magazines,” I added. Kian made a face.
“My band doesn’t hate you.”
“It feels like it.” I pulled off my jacket, not even sure where to put it; this white room felt too perfect for me. He sighed and sat on the bed, pulling me down onto his lap.
“Ash is my guitarist and backup singer. He has known me from the very start and is protective over me because he has seen many women use me.”
“I would never!” I protested.
“I know that.” He placed a kiss on my forehead. “And soon Ash will know it too. Nile is my drummer, and he doesn’t hate anyone. In fact, I’ll probably have to keep him away from you because that man will flirt with anything that moves. But he’s a very loyal friend, and you will like him. I promise. Mika plays the piano or the keyboard, and if you think I’m quiet, wait till you meet him. He’s shy around people whom he doesn’t know well, but he’s actually hilarious, and he’s a great cook. You’ll have to make him a coffee.”
Kian kissed me again. “It’s going to be okay. They’ll realize that you’re here for good, and they’ll get over it. Right now, they’re just as shocked as you are. Remember, I disappeared, and none of them had heard from me until recently. So we all just need to acclimate.”
He was talking a lot, and he seemed more comfortable here than I had ever seen him back in New York. I guess not having to keep up a lie and hide your identity was a good stress relief.
“Let’s shower quickly before the boys show up for dinner. Plus, I want to get to sleep early; tomorrow is a big day. I have to go meet with the label and let them yell at me, and then I’ll be doing an interview to hopefully keep the paparazzi off our backs.” He stood and took off his shirt. I eyed his etched abs appreciatively.
“Don’t change this either.” I ran my hand over his muscles.
“Not a chance. There is a gym in the penthouse, and you better believe I’ll be torturing myself there daily.” Kian flashed me one of his rare grins.
“Okay, good.” I followed him into the shower. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could be a famous singer's girlfriend and find a way to live my life here. It’s just an adventure, I told myself. An adventure I could have never imagined for myself, but an adventure all the same.
After our shower, I went from standing in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped around me, brushing out my wet curls, to being hauled up on Kian’s shoulder as he literally picked me up and walked back into the bedroom. As he began to kiss his way down my neck and open up the towel, I laughed. “I thought you said the boys would be here soon.”
“They will be.” Kian’s voice was muffled against my ribs, his breath tickling my skin and heightening my nerve endings in anticipation. He didn’t make me wait long.
“This will be quick,” he confirmed.
I watched as he rolled a condom on and then had me rest on my knees on his pillow, my legs spread wide, with my back against the headboard. My arms went around his neck as he got to his knees and then thrust into me. My back was pushed against the headboard with each movement of his hips to the point of pain, but I reveled in it. It was such a strong contradiction to the extreme pleasure happening between my legs that it heightened the experience. I had an unencumbered view in this position, and I watched as he slid in and out of me, where I was swollen and soaking. I was making a mess of his pillow, and I could hear the slick movements of his cock. I groaned just from the added stimulation of the close-up visual of what he was doing to me. I looked up to find him staring at me.
“We look fucking hot together, don’t we, baby?”
I nodded and licked my lips, and he leaned in to bite them before kissing me. He pushed me further into the headboard, and I moaned at the bite of the wood against my spine.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, breathless. I nodded.
“Good.”
I came. Soaring, falling, burning, exploding. He was watching me; the intensity of his hips against mine belied the lazy look of satisfaction on his face. I was startled when I heard a rap on the door.
“Dinner’s ready.” I heard the deep voice that was Ash, outside in the hallway with only an unlocked door between us.
“Give us a minute,” Kian called back, not hesitating in his movements. Ash didn’t answer, but I didn’t hear his footsteps walk away either. Kian began to fuck me so hard that the headboard began to hit the wall.
“He’ll know,” I hissed.
Kian laughed as he groaned.“He already knows.” Kian gripped my hip, and I could tell he was close. “Ash likes to listen.”
I gasped as Kian unloaded into the condom, his body bowing over mine as he moaned my name. Loudly. Recklessly. I was no stranger to public sex. I had seen everything one could see while I lived on the streets, yet somehow, Kian coming inside me as he told me that his best friend liked to listen to him fuck felt like the filthiest thing I had ever heard.
Ash smirked at me when I walked into the kitchen. I cocked my head and didn’t look away. I could see something akin to admiration flash in his eyes, and then they moved their way down my body in a slow perusal. At that I walked away because I was not his to look at. A bark of his laughter followed me. Myles was already sitting at the table, his eyes still holding the tortured look I had seen in them earlier, but he was chatting with Nile, and he had a plate of food in front of him. When he saw me, he pushed his chair back and stood.
“You good?” he asked. I nodded.
“You?”
He nodded his head yes. I blew him a kiss and then joined Kian at the marble island to fill my plate. Zara had made lasagna, Caesar salad, soup, and garlic bread. There was also a cheese platter and two choices of dessert. I took some of everything and then sat next to Kian who ran a hand down my arm as I dug in. Nile and Mika sat across from me and made an effort to get to know me as we ate. As we were finishing up, the elevator dinged, and a tall redhead walked out from between the opening doors.
“You mother fucker.” She strode over to Kian and hit him over the head with her folder. He stood and gave her a hug.
“I’m so mad at you, but damn, you definitely just made my job even easier.” She ran a hand appreciatively over the muscles in his bicep. Mine, the word sprang into my mind. I wanted to push her away and make a claim on my man.
As if he could hear me, Kian looked over at me and said, “Jessa, this is our social media manager, Adara. Adara, this is my girlfriend, Jessa.”
She turned to look at me and then said without looking back at Kian, “I forgive you for abandoning me without a single word because you brought home this beauty for me to post all over your account. She is going to make your social media look so hot.” He laughed as my confused gaze met his.
“Adara is gay and likes pretty things.” He explained her familiarity with him, assuaging my jealousy.
“Oh my god, so gay.” She leaned in and gave me a hug. “I love your hair so much. Can we do a photoshoot?”
“Umm.” I didn’t want to, but I also didn’t want to disappoint anyone this soon into meeting them.
“Go get some dinner and leave her alone.” Kian laughed, pushing Adara away from me gently. “I’ll do one instead,” he offered. Adara stopped in her tracks.
“Oh wow, you really like her.” She looked at me again with more interest than before.
I must have looked confused because Nile said, “Kian avoids photoshoots like the actual plague.”
“Oh.” I was so painfully out of my element. Eating off of china plates in a multi-million-dollar penthouse, talking about photoshoots while sitting at a table with award-winning musicians. I hoped it wasn’t too obvious. Kian reached over and squeezed my hand.
“You made a mess on my pillow earlier,” he murmured so quietly that only I would hear him.
“Yeah?” My voice hitched, and I had to squeeze my legs together as his tone turned me on again.
“You’ll have to clean it up,” he said promisingly. I squeezed his hand, running a finger down his palm.
“Okay.”
He grinned, and my discomfort slowly eased into something that almost felt magical. I had woken up this morning existing in one life, and here I was eating dinner in a completely different reality. I had mastered living in survival mode, and now I was opening up my heart to really, truly live.