Chapter 4
Papur Newydd - Newspaper
Rhys
Protecting Cai doesn’t stop when the lights go out. Even asleep, I’m wired for trouble – every creak, every breath, every bloody whisper. No wonder I live a-fucking-lone.
So when the bedroom door groans open, my first thought isn’t hangover. It’s threat.
I’m sitting up before I’m even awake, shoving the duvet aside and fumbling for a weapon – anything’ll do. A shiny bald head appears from the darkness of the hallway. I could chuck my phone at it, but I doubt that’ll scare anyone.
Where even is my phone?
‘Get up, Rhys!’
Ah, fuck’s sake. Gethin. The world’s worst boss. Come to ruin my nice sleep.
Wait a minute. How the fuck’d he get in here? I never gave him a key.
The rest of the room sharpens. Blue walls, a Banksy waiting to be hung, thick cream curtains leaking light. The wanker sun spears my skull, and the pillows are way too soft to be mine.
Stayed at Cai’s last night then. Richie must’ve driven us home.
Someone in the bed next to me shivers, drawing into a tight ball to ward off the chill.
A waft of cherry and vodka takes me back to the record-label party I was dragged to.
Mmm. Ffion. Blonde. Curvy. Tasted like Sourz shots and smelled like she’d poured a vat of Chanel over herself.
Greeted me with a snog and we didn’t take our hands off each other after.
Doesn’t smell so sweet now. Me neither. A whiff of my stale breath has my stomach churning. How much did I drink? My tongue’s thick, and my mouth tastes like arse.
Gethin marches across the room to stand over me. The blaring sun behind him gives him a red glow. Like he’s the devil on earth. His magnificent, bushy moustache sits in a straight, unimpressed line; one eyebrow lifted in the look of disappointment he saves only for me.
I pull the duvet over Ffion, covering her head so she’s not subjected to whatever bollocking I’m about to get. And to protect her modesty. At least we remembered to put clothes back on before crashing out what feels like thirty seconds ago. But I’m sure she doesn’t want him ogling her thighs.
‘It’s gone ten.’
And? The alcohol must have caused the cogs in my brain to seize up cos it takes a moment for them to click into action. Shit. Team meeting. Every Thursday morning at ten. A surge of sour-tasting bile floods my mouth. Guilt or hangover? Who the fuck knows.
‘It’s funny how everyone else made it on time,’ he continues.
Each word explodes in technicolour inside my already tender head.
‘All of us have work to get on with. For instance, I have ten other meetings with people far more important than you. Sita has to be at the designers by twelve to finalise costumes. And yet, we sit.’
I grope for my phone on the bedside table and lift it to my face. Dead. Fuck’s sake. I drop it to the duvet and rub the grit out of my eyes.
‘Ran out of charge.’
He sighs. ‘It’s not my job to get you out of bed and to your meetings. It’s the same time every week. The least you can do is show up when expected.’
‘Okay. Fine. I’m moving now.’ I’ll do anything to stop his moaning.
Footsteps thump towards the door. Good. He’s leaving.
‘I’m giving you fifteen minutes to get your shit together and send your friend home. I’ll order her a taxi on account.’
He stomps out of the room and I roll onto my side, trying to get myself sorted. My brain’s fuzzy and no amount of water’s gonna unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth. Every inch of me aches in that way that only a lack of sleep does to a guy.
‘Who was that?’ Ffion emerges from the duvet.
‘Gethin. Cai’s manager-slash-second dad. Thinks he owns the world.’
‘Does he?’
‘Most of it. Important man. Very rich. Uses Cai’s money to pay me, so I guess I should do as he says.’
‘You don’t seem too keen.’
‘Fifteen minutes is ages. I’ll make it.’
If I tried hard enough, I could get there earlier than he told me to. Would make the team less mad at me if I did. But setting a precedent is dangerous. I’d have to be early for the rest of my life. No, ta.
I dangle a leg out of the duvet, testing the temperature of the room. It’s tepid at best. Winter in Wales is like living in the Arctic. The heating’s never on for long. Cai’s too tight and too worried about the environment to keep it blasting all morning.
Okay, I can do this. I move slowly, steadily, so my hangover doesn’t take control of my gut and my head, and push my long body off the mattress and out of bed.
Ffion gets out of bed too, and my dick twitches.
I trace her movements around the room, measuring whether she’d be up for one last round.
I don’t want to brag, but fifteen minutes is more than enough time to get us both off before the meeting.
And they do say an orgasm helps a headache.
Gethin’s red face and twitching moustache flash to the front of my mind, quelling any dregs of passion. Never mind. A coffee and two paracetamol will have to do.
She’s already pulling her jeans on. ‘I’m going to keep the t-shirt,’ she tells me. ‘It’s comfy.’
I fucking hate sharing my clothes. But I’d look like a dick if I told her, so instead I say, ‘One of my faves, but I guess I’ll allow it. I can clean your top and get it to you, if you want?’
She smirks across the room and slips a scrunchie off her wrist to pull her hair up. I lick my lips as her neck’s exposed to me and I fight off the temptation to haul her back into bed.
No. It’s meeting time. Gotta get there before I lose my job and everyone properly hates me.
‘How are you going to do that if you don’t have my number?’ she asks.
Did I not ask for it? Sometimes, I’m not that bright. ‘I can give you mine, and you can let me know when you get home?’
And sometimes I’m a fucking genius.
‘Yeah, sounds good.’
She passes me her phone and disappears into the en-suite.
Okay, time to snap to it. Twelve minutes left.
I stumble across the floorboards to the wardrobe.
After one too many late nights with Cai a few years ago, I stashed a pile of spare clothes in here.
Thank fuck. I don’t want to stoke Gethin’s rage further by turning up in my beer-stained jeans, my belly and furry chest on display to the rest of the team. I’d be sacked on the spot.
My toes curl and stretch on the soft vintage persian rug in front of the wardrobe.
I can’t remember the last time I took any of these clothes home to wash.
I pull out the first top I find and sniff it.
Clean enough. A further deeper inhale confirms that tequila oozes out of my pores and pits.
Add in the lingering smell of sex, and it’s confirmed.
I stink.
Should have a shower and a shave to make me presentable, but I’ve dawdled too long. A quick spurt of deodorant will do.
I use the loo and brush my teeth. Once we’re both dressed and fairly decent, I lead Ffion out of the room and downstairs. Her head swivels like it’s on a rocker, looking around the place, searching for something. Or someone.
‘So I guess breakfast is out of the question?’ she asks as I open the front door for her.
‘Afraid so.’ A taxi waits in the forecourt, engine rumbling, ready to take her to wherever she needs to go. I hope it’s Aberystwyth so Gethin’s landed with a massive bill.
‘All right. Well, maybe I’ll see you again?’
‘I’ll need to give you your top back, won’t I? Maybe we can grab a drink, too?’
‘Okay.’ She leans in, and despite my stink, I give her a quick kiss. Can’t turn down a girl who’s keen, especially at my age, even if I smell.
‘Tell Cai I said bye.’
Dammit. Moment’s spoiled. She’ll get a text when her top’s ready then I’ll delete her number. I’m not that desperate to pursue someone who’s only using me to get to Cai. Not yet.
Once the gates at the end of the drive close, I swing into the house and almost collide with the arsehole.
‘Bore da.’ He reaches to ruffle my hair, but I shrug away from him. Too bloody chirpy for a hangover morning. The wanker loves an early wake-up. Or no fucking sleep at all. ‘Did you get a rude awakening, too?’
‘Yeah. Poor Ffion got the full popstar experience.’
‘Passion killer.’
‘Right?’
He shoves a hot mug of coffee into my hand, and I inhale it like the sweet nectar it is. Life-saving. There’s a reason he’s my best mate.
‘She was mostly interested in you,’ I continue, following him towards the west wing, where he’s converted a fuck ton of his spare rooms into offices for us.
‘My head was between those gorgeous bloody thighs, and all she could think of to say was, “What’s it like working with Cai? What’s his last name?
Why hasn’t he updated his social media in five years? ”’
He chokes on his coffee and I thump him on the back. I’ll be in more trouble if I’ve killed him off before making it to the meeting. ‘I thought you were better at it.’
‘I need more practice. Was I desperate last night?’
There used to be a time when I’d pull a girl every night we went out. Now it’s few and far between. That’s what getting old does to you. If Mam was still here, she’d tell me it’s time to settle down. No can do, though. Not in this job.
‘Nah, course not.’ He pats my shoulder, a little too over-the-top for it to be truly sympathetic. ‘It’s been a long time for you. I don’t blame you for bringing her back.’
I turn the mug to my mouth, hoping to drain the last drops. I’m still not awake enough for this meeting. Gonna need a lot more caffeine for that. ‘If you hadn’t sworn off sex, then maybe you could have—’
‘Mate, it’s not like I’m a monk now, but—’
‘Yeah, yeah. Between Topaz and my sister, you’re way too busy moping.
Sucks getting your heart broken a million times, and you’ll never ever forget them.
Nobody else can compare. You tried with Jessica, but she sold you out.
Beth and Topaz’re the ones who got away.
Blah, blah, blah. I get it. It’s gross. Shut up about it already. ’