Page 3 of Defying Ella
“When’s mam and dad getting here?” I asked, placing a pouting Phoebe back on the ground.
Mel shrugged. “Any minute now. They were going to do some sightseeing before stopping by for the munchkin.”
The munchkin being Phoebe. We hadn’t told her that she’d be heading home with our parents while we drove down to the Alps for a much-needed girls’ fortnight away from the guys. After a month on a tour bus with them, we all needed a break. So, the moment the show ended, Mel, Alys, Nia, Daphne and I would be Lutago bound. A fancy-pants lodge in the Italian Alps awaited us.
Two weeks of blissful escape. Hardly any signal, great company, and a lot of wine.
I couldn’t wait.
“What the hell happened?” Jared roared from the house floor.
Mel chewed her lip, watching him approach, but I didn’t bother turning. I didn’t need to see the fire in his eyes to know he was about to set me on edge and maybe push me over it. It didn’t take much these days. One well-placed jab and we were at each other’s throats. To think I’d hated the predictability of my boring call centre job a month ago. If it meant escaping him, I’d go back to the call centre, even though I knew it would never lead me to my purpose.
Not wanting to give Jared any of my time, I crouched in front of Phoebe, pasting a huge grin on my lips.
“Shall we go count the pieces?” I held my hand out to her and allowed that mischievous feeling I always got fucking with Jared’s mood to surface.
For a second she chewed her lip, but I knew she wouldn’thold out on me. My niece loved to play. Her smile was slow to grow, but then she nodded at me, a sly look in her own eyes.
“Just a little accident,” Mel said, facing down the raging bull without a moment’s hesitation.
“The kit is trashed. How is that a little accident?” Jared growled, gesturing wildly.
I turned away from him and led Phoebe over to the kit. We settled on the ground, our legs crossed and our backs to the glowering asshole.
“One.” I pointed out a part of the dismantled drum set.
He pounded across the stage. The vibrations thumped through my chest, but still, I refused to look at him. Instead, I focused on Phoebe, mouthing the next numbers to her as she counted. I couldn’t get angry with such cuteness before me.
“It’s not trashed. They’ll have it back together before you know it.” Patience filled Mel’s voice.
I could feel the burn of her gaze on my back, on Phoebe. The awkward smile she favoured whenever Phoebe was around for arguments probably claimed her lips.
“Who did it?” Jared bit out.
He stepped up to the kit and robbed me of the ability to ignore him. For a moment, he was just a black blob in my peripheral vision. If only I were strong enough to not look.
If I’d been that strong, I would have saved myself a whole lot of pain in the last month. Wouldn’t have seen him flirting with other women, leading them backstage or onto an empty bus.
But if I couldn’t see him, I conjured up extreme situation after extreme situation and tortured myself. It was better to look than imagine.
I sighed as my head turned, almost against my will. My eyes immediately trailed along his body. Why did he have to start working out? It would have been so much easier to ignore the bastard if he didn’t fit my type to a tee… if he hadn’t started hitting the gym twice a day and still looked like the skinny rake I vaguely remembered from school.
For some reason, he’d decided to buff up between Rhiannon signing and my meeting him. Someone in their PR team had helpfully forgotten to circulate new press stills.
Or I’d blanked their existence out.
Anyway, the result was a ripped six-foot-plus guy with short, dirty blond hair, striking green eyes and a contagious grin — if he chose to break it out in your vicinity.
Yet another reason I didn’t recognise him that fateful night in the bar.
Notice how I glossed over the tattoos painted across his chest, arms, back and creeping up his neck? They highlighted his hard muscles far too much for my peace of mind.
Maybe if he never took his hoodie off, I’d finally stop having to fight to resist him.
“Who did it?” he roared again, ignoring Mel completely and I ground my teeth. He stared around the stage, eying roadies with a hard expression. “Was it you?” he growled at a poor unsuspecting guitar tech, catching his t-shirt and pulling him closer.
The guy shook his head and scrambled away, taking my ability to ignore the pain in the ass with him.
