CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

1989

I was dragged back into consciousness by the sound of someone throwing up.

Where the fuck did we go last night for Maca to have drunk enough to be in this state?

I rolled over and pulled my pillow over my head, and realised in an instant that the sound was coming from my bathroom, not Maca’s.

Shit.

Ashley.

I jumped out of bed and ran to my bathroom, stopping in the doorway as I watched her arch over my toilet as she sat on her knees in front of it. All the while, she was trying to hold her hair back and I remembered that Jimmie told me I should tie her hair in an elastic band.

I ran to the kitchen and pulled open the junk drawer. You know, that one that every house has, filled with elastic bands, Blu-Tack, paper clips, batteries, pens, and condoms? I rifled through it all until I found an elastic band big enough to hold all of her hair, then I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before rushing back to my bathroom.

Her elbows were propped on the toilet seat, her arms crossed, and her head resting on top of them. Without saying a word, I pulled her hair back and attempted to wrap the elastic band around it. I didn’t miss the fact that she stiffened as soon as I touched her. I rubbed her back a few times.

“There’s a bottle of water there, thought you might need it.” She turns her head and looks at me kneeling next to her.

“Oh God,” she groans.

“Almost.” I tell her as I wink and hold my hand out, as if to shake hers. “Most call me Marley. They save the God title for when I’m making their toes curl.”

She blinked those big blue-brown eyes at me before rolling them. “You’re such a dick, Rock Star.”

Yeah, I had to agree. Why the fuck did I just make that toe curl comment?

She unscrewed the cap on the water bottle, tilted her head back and swallowed. I couldn’t take my eyes from her throat. The way it moved as she swallowed each mouthful, the way her lips wrapped around the neck of the bottle ...

I’m kneeling in front of her, in just a pair of boxers, and I have a big fat chub going on and no way to hide it.

I’m fucked. Totally and utterly fucked.

“I’m probably one of the few people in the world that actually wished this was all a dream, and I hadn’t really woken up in Marley Layton’s bed.”

Her voice brought me back from imagining all the ways I’d like to see her swallow and I thanked the god of hard-ons ... Erectimus? I think that was his name, or was that a transformer? Erectimus Prime? Anyway, I thanked him, the god of hard-ons, that rather than making eye contact with me, she still had her head tilted back and was staring up at the ceiling.

“Well, cheers.” I told her, feeling a little hurt. Who the fuck doesn’t wanna wake up in my bed? Is she still drunk? I wonder, does she know, exactly, who I am?

She moved her head and her eyes to meet mine. I’m not sure if they were glassy from her puke fest, or if she was actually about to cry and once again, I was hit with that unnerving need to make sure she was okay.

“Please tell me we didn’t fuck?”

“Wow, are you for fucking real right now?” That hurt, and I hated that it was obvious in my tone. I fucking hate that what she just asked bothered me so much.

“You’re Marley Layton. I’m not a part of your world. I work for your mum and your sister, who also happens to be one of my best friends, the other being Jimmie, your future sister-in-law. I don’t want to be the dinner table conversation next time you all get together, and I don’t want you all talking about how easy I was and  what a slut I am. Despite what people think they know about me, I’m not that type of girl.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks and I couldn’t stay put. “C’mere.” I whispered and pulled her into my lap. I rested my back against the bath and pulled her into my chest, stroking her back and her hair as she cried.

“Nothing happened last night, and even if it did, I would never talk about it with my family.” Although that could’ve actually been a bit of a lie. We did tend to share in my family.

“So how come I’m wearing your clothes?”

Ah shit. And it was all going so well.

“Well, here’s the thing. You sorta threw up everywhere, and I do mean everywhere; in the back of the car, over your posh party frock, over me―”

“Oh fuck.” She cried, burying her face in my chest.

“Again, feel free to just call me Marley.” That earned me a dig in the ribs from her dainty little fist.

“So, did you undress me? Please tell me you called Jimmie or George to do that.”

“I called Jim.” I reassured her and felt her relax against me instantly, but I know it’s not gonna last.

“Thank fuck for that.” She sighed out the words in relief.

“And she stayed on the line while I stripped you off, showered you, washed your hair, and dressed you again, for the second time.”

She makes loud, over exaggerated sobbing noises. “Noooo. Noooo. Why did I get in such a state? What happened? The last thing I remember is us dancing.”

“Yeah, and then you told me to get you drunk and that you might think about letting me shag ya.”

“Well whooo hooo, go you. You get top marks for getting me drunk, Rock Star.” She said sarcastically, her face still buried against my chest.

“Thanks.” I told her and she held up her hand for me to high five her, and I did. Then I did something that I’d never, ever done with a girl before. I laced my fingers through hers and held her hand.

My dick stirred and I cringed. “Ash?”

“What?”

“My arse is going numb and my back hurts. You ready to go back to bed? I’ll make you a cup of tea or coffee, and some toast if you feel up to it.”

“The thought of making me breakfast is what’s making your dick hard right now, Rock Star?”

Busted!

My mouth dried up again and I decided to try this untested concept of total honesty with a girl.

“No, I’ve got a hard-on because you’re sitting in my lap with your tits pushed against me and your arse pressing against my dick. And also because you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“I’m also not fucking stupid,” she mumbled from my chest.

“What? I can’t understand what you’re saying with your face down there. Although, if you were to dip lower, I’d understand perfectly―every fucking word.”

“Omit eth.”  Is what I thought she’d said.

“Nd, er a king ervert.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re saying down there, baby, but if you’re feeling a bit better, I’m gonna stand you on your feet. You should drink the rest of that water, and feel free to use my toothbrush. Then either come find me while I make us some breakfast, or wait in bed and I’ll bring it up to you.”

I stood her up on her feet, thanking that Erectimus bloke again that she just stared down at the tiled floor, her arms wrapped around her.

“Why the fuck won’t you look at me?” I asked her.

“Vomit breath,” she said more clearly.

“Ah, that’s what you were saying. What was the second part that I didn’t quite catch?” I asked, now fully aware of what it was she’d called me.

“I said, ‘And you’re a fucking pervert.’” I smiled, as I could imagine her blushing, and I really wanted to see that. Her skin looked so pale this morning that it’d be good to see some colour on her cheeks, like, really good ... and now I’m getting hard again. Fuck you, dick gods.

“Well, I think the fact that I showered you and changed you into clean clothes, twice, I might fucking add, without once touching you inappropriately, just goes to prove that I’m not a pervert.”

She finally looks up at me, her blue-brown eyes still glassy.

“I’m sorry. Thank you for looking after me. I wasn’t talking about any of that. In fact, I’m trying really hard to forget that Marley Layton has seen my tits right now.”

“Then why am I a pervert? I don’t understand?” 

“Because you’re you and I’m just me; a puke smelling, crazy haired lady, pasty faced no body who obviously has no self-respect for herself because I came home with you last night, after only just meeting you.”

Tears clung to her bottom lashes and my heart missed a beat, then seemed to rush around in my chest, trying to find its missing action.

“Well, you know what, sweetheart? If getting a fat on over the most beautiful, puke smelling, crazy haired, pasty faced nobody I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing makes me a pervert, then I’m guilty as fucking charged.”

A small smile pulled at the corner of her perfect mouth and I finally got to see that blush spread up her neck and over her cheeks. She swung her shoulders from side to side in the most girliest of gestures. I closed my eyes and thought of chords, notes, frets. I tried to write a tune in my head, anything to calm this boner down.

“I really wanna kiss the fuck outta you right now.” The blood supply that usually inhabited my brain had obviously sunk south to my dick because I never, at any stage, intended to say that out loud.

“I stink of puke,” she whispers.

“I don’t give a fuck.” I tell her.

She looked over my face for a few seconds and I thought that she was gonna take a step forward, then something, I’ve no clue what, must’ve crossed her mind and her whole stance, even the look in her eyes changed.

“I’ll pass on the kiss, thanks. I’ll just clean my teeth and meet you in the kitchen.” She gave me a small smile, but I still felt the sting of her rejection. I nodded my head and left the bathroom, pulled on a pair of jogging bottoms and a T-shirt and headed to my kitchen.

Fuck this for a game of soldiers. That―that right there, women and their unpredictability, were the reasons I didn’t do relationships. They’re a complete mystery to me and that’s exactly the way I wanted it to stay.

Fuck her and her blue-brown, brown-blue, or whatever the fuck eye colour she has.

Fuck her pink cheeks.

Fuck her perfect tits that I never looked at ... much. Maybe a little bit, or a few times, but whatever. Fuck them anyway.

Fuck everything about her and the way she made me feel so off balance.

I’d make her coffee and some toast, then call Dave to come pick her up, seeing as Maca seemed to have decided that Milo was for he and my sister’s own personal use. So, fuck them too. They could all go fuck themselves.

“Why’ve you been so nice to me?”

I jumped at the sound of Ashley’s voice as she leaned against the doorway, watching me pour hot water from the kettle into the coffee mugs I’d set out.

Yeah, me. I’m making a girl coffee after a night of not even getting a shag, or a blowie, or even a hand job. You couldn’t make this shit up. Un-fucking-believable!

“What?” My response came out a little harsher than I intended, and I hated that she flinched at my tone. She was still wearing my T-shirt and boxers, and had her hair up in what looked like a birds nest on top of her head. It was the sexiest fucking bird’s nest I’d ever seen.

I slid my hands into the pockets of my joggers and held onto my hardening dick so that she couldn’t see it. “Ewww, are you playing with your dick through your pocket?”

This girl seriously had no filter.

I blush. I actually felt my cheeks burn as she stood there with a sexy as fuck smirk on her face. I’m Marley Layton. I don’t fucking blush.

Ever.

“What? No. I was, I just ... my dick fucking likes you, all right. It has a mind of its own when you’re around.” I admitted while standing there, glowing like the Ready Brek kid.

“And playing with it helps?” She asked.

“I’m not playing with my fucking dick. I was trying to hold it down so that you wouldn’t see that I’ve got a big fat boner going on.”

I watched as she folded her arms across her chest.

Her perfect, perfect tits moved under my T-shirt and my disobedient dick twitched in my hand. I close my eyes for a few seconds and try not to think about how they looked when I showered her earlier this morning.

I fail. They’re all I can picture.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said quietly.

I opened my eyes and watched as she moved toward and then past me. She goes to the fridge and pulls out the milk.

“What question?” I asked as she put the milk down on the work top and started opening cupboard doors. “What are you looking for?”

“The sugar,” She replied in a tone that implied I should know that.

“Here.” I open the cupboard above the kettle and get it down for her.

“Tupperware? Oh, Rock Star, that bit of info would do your bad boy reputation no good if it were to get out. Did you go to a party yourself to buy it?” She asked while putting two heaped spoonful’s of the golden granules into her cup, offering one up to me.

“One, please, and no, I didn’t go to a Tupper-fucking-ware parties. My mum came around and organised everything in here and brought us cutlery, plates, cups and shit. Anything else you wanna have a dig at me about?”

She stared down at our coffees as she stirred each one in turn.

“You gonna answer my question, or just keep avoiding it?” she asked without looking back up at me.

“What was the question?” I know full well what the question was, but I don’t have an answer that I’m willing to admit to just yet―not to her or myself.

“Why’ve you been so nice to me―looked after me?” She turned and met my gaze head on.

“Because I like you, a lot.” I didn’t hesitate to answer, yet I can’t believe I just said that. I was adamant that I was gonna say nothing, and then I just blurted it out.

This girl.

This fucking girl was tying me up in knots.

Me. This doesn’t happen to me.

“You don’t even know me.” She said bluntly with a defiant edge to her tone.

“We just spent a night together. I cleaned up your puke. I think I know you well enough.”

“And despite that, you still reckon you like me?”

“No, Ashley.” I didn’t miss the fact that she flinched again, just slightly before I got a chance to continue. A little zing of pain hits my heart, like an electric shock, at the thought that I might’ve hurt her feelings.

“I don’t reckon I like you. I know that I do. Despite the puke in my car, in my bathroom, and on my clothes. Despite you taking the piss out of my endless hard-on and my Tupper-fucking-ware, I like you. Fuck knows why, but I do and so does my dick.”

Her response? She dragged her teeth backwards and forwards over her bottom lip and I almost came in my pants like a thirteen-year-old boy, right there in my kitchen.

“I’m still not shagging you.” Was her only reply before taking a sip of her coffee, then smiling at me sweetly.

“Yeah, I heard you the first time, and all the other times you’ve told me.” I sigh out, trying to sound defeated, hoping to garner some sympathy from her.

“What is it exactly you’ve got against me?” I questioned. I’m actually curious now. I’ve turned women down, occasionally. Well, no, that’s a lie. I nearly always said yes, unless they were grabby. I don’t like grabby, aggressive women. I’ve always worried they might go a bit psycho on me, but anyway, this? Having a girl blatantly knock me back? This was new ground for me, and I was a little unsure how I approached the situation.

On the one hand I liked her, and I would like very much to sink my dick balls deep inside her. Just her mouth, would in fact do at this point. But, on the other hand, I loved that she wasn’t intimidated by who I was and didn’t appear to be interested in shagging me just for the bragging rights. She didn’t seem like she was expecting something permanent from me, convincing herself that she might be ‘the one’ to tame me and make me settle down. She seemed too independent for that shit.

“I don’t have anything against you. I just have a little bit more respect for myself than to shag someone on the night that I meet them, especially when they happen to be my boss’ son.”

I heard her belly rumble as she finished talking and moved to get some eggs out of the fridge. I was actually about to make this girl some breakfast I shook my head at the prospect and felt like I should call Maca or my brothers to have them explain my actions because I had no clue what was going on with me.

“So, if you didn’t work for my mum and sister, I might have been in with a chance?” I asked.

“I don’t shag on the first night. Unfortunately for you, the fact that I work for your mum and sister means that I won’t shag you on any night.”

“What if I took you out tonight? Or next week? Do you shag on the second or third night?” I said jokingly.

Totally not joking.

Once again, something passed across her face and eyes.

“Marley.” She said my name as though she was letting out a long breath or a sigh, and I felt all girly as my insides jumped about and my balls felt all tingly, in a most ungirly way.

“Ashley,” I said in the same manner and a small smile played at the corner of her mouth.

“You should do that more often.” I told her while reaching into the drawer for a frying pan.

“Say your name?”

“Saying my name is good, but you smiling is even better.”

Fuck, I was even making myself cringe. Could I have sounded any more wankerish?

She smiled again and my charm sank to new depths. “See? That was beautiful.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

I shook my head in frustration. I’m not winning with my words, so let’s see what I could do with my culinary skills. “You want some breakfast?”

“You don’t want me to leave?” She asked with raised eyebrows, obviously surprised that I wanted her to stay. I’m bloody surprised I wanted her stay, but I did. She was hungry and that made me want to feed her. I didn’t like the idea of her being hungry, hated it, in fact. Just like last night, I needed to look after her. I had no idea what any of it meant, I just knew that I was about to cook this girl breakfast for two reasons. One, so she’d no longer be hungry and two, so that she’d stay here a bit longer.

“If I wanted you to leave, I wouldn’t be offering to cook you breakfast. I’m not a bullshitter, Ashley. I tend to say what I mean.”

“Yeah, I tend to get into trouble for that,” she said quietly while staring at her toes―her cute toes with purple nail varnish on them.

My eyes travelled from her toes and up her legs, from her legs to her body that happened to be hidden away under my T-shirt. Eventually, my eyes hit her face and I was surprised to see her watching me. I abandoned the frying pan and stepped right into her space. She smelled of my shampoo and body wash. Thoughts of her naked as I washed her invaded every single space in my head and I took her face into my hands.

“You,” I let out a long breathe. “You are so fucking gorgeous.”

Her eyes instantly filled with tears.

What the fuck?

She shakes her head slightly. “Don’t, Marley. Please don’t.” She whispered, attempting to look down but I gripped her face tighter, refusing to let her break eye contact with me.

“Don’t what? What did I do?” I asked her, feeling totally confused.

“Don’t say shit like that to me. Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot. I know I don’t talk nice like your mum and your sister. I know that I sound common and I know what people say about my family.” She swallowed and her jaw trembled. The sight of her struggling actually caused a physical pain in my chest.

“Ash, sweetheart, I seriously―”

“No, no. Let me finish, Marley. People can think what they’d like about my family, most of it’s true anyway. They’re not good people, and I’m fully aware of that. I also know that people tar me with the same brush, but I’ll never be like them. No matter what happens to me, I’ll never stoop to their level. People can think what they’d like, but here,” She pointed at her head and then her heart. “And in here, I know the truth. Yeah, I like to go out and have a good time. I like a drink and I’ll do the occasional line or smoke a joint, but I’m not a junkie and I’m not a slut. I don’t sleep around.”

She blinked and a lone tear rolled down her pretty little cheek. I knew nothing about her family situation, but I hated that she felt like that, that they’d made her feel like that.

“I’m also not as thick as I sound, and you can tell me that I’m gorgeous till the cows come home, but that won’t get you inside my knickers. I’m not one of your supermodels who can pull a rock star any time she likes. I’m just a shop girl; I’m not in your league.”

I didn’t know what to do or say. I felt panic welling in my chest. I wanted to kiss her so bad―so fucking bad, but I didn’t want her to think that I thought she was easy, and that I was just trying my luck.

My mouth forgets to engage my brain before it starts speaking, and words just start coming out of it.

“Ash, I honestly don’t know anything about your family. I’ve no idea what their reputation is, and I most certainly would never, not in a million years, judge you on the way you talk. You’re just a typical Essex bird to me; mouthy, funny, straight to the point, and in your case, sexy as fuck.” She rolled her eyes, again.

“I’m not bullshitting you, babe, I’ve no need to. Believe what you’d like, but I’m telling you straight up, you are a pretty girl and I would really, really like to kiss you right now.”

I bent my knees slightly so that I could look into her eyes, which were once again cast downwards.

“Whatever you may think, Ash, at the end of the day, we’re just you and me. An Essex boy, who really wants to kiss an Essex girl. Just because I do what I do for a living, it doesn’t make me any better than you and I hate, fucking hate you putting yourself down. You working in a shop is what you do for a living. Well, me playing in a band is what I do. They’re just jobs. They don’t make either of us better or worse than the other, and I don’t ever want to hear you say something like that again, you hear me?” I brushed the tears from her cheeks. I was gonna call Jimmie or my sister later to find out what the fuck had gone on in this girls life that caused her to have such low self-esteem, despite the ‘full of confidence’ bullshit and bravado she liked to put on.

I gently kissed the corner of her mouth, then pulled away to gauge her reaction. She slid her arms around my neck, so I slid one of mine around her waist, and one around her neck so that I could hold onto the back of her head. I held her still and moved in to kiss her again.

I placed my mouth gently on hers, barely moving my lips at first. I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips and savoured the combination of coffee, toothpaste and salty tears, which made up the taste of Ashley. My tongue probed harder and eventually she allowed it access to her mouth. There was the sound of a groan and I had no idea if it came from me, her, or if it was a joint effort, but it prompted me to slide my hand down to her arse and pull her in tight against me. My dick was hard and I knew she was able to feel it against her belly. But I really didn’t give a fuck. I wanted her to know what she did to me. I needed her to know that I really did think that she was sexy as fuck.

She shocked the shit out of me by lifting her leg and hooking it around my hip. I didn’t hesitate in cupping her arse and lifting her so that she was forced to hook her other leg around me to hold on.

I moved with her wrapped around me and sat her down on the kitchen work top, not breaking our kiss the whole time. As soon as her bum touched the granite, or marble, or whatever shit it was made from, I slid her forward so that I could continue pressing my dick right between her legs. I could feel her hot little cunt against the tip of my dick, and didn’t even attempt to stop the “fuck” that slipped out of my mouth against hers.

I moved my hips so that I was rubbing myself against her. The heels of her feet were pressing into my arse cheeks, forcing me harder against her.

“Fuck, Ash. I wanna be inside you. I wanna be inside you so bad, baby.” I spoke without moving my mouth from hers.

“I know, but we can’t. I’m not like that, I don’t do this. I’m not like that, Marley.”

I stopped kissing her and rested my forehead against hers. I didn’t want to pressure her, and I didn’t want to make her feel guilty, so I drew in a few deep breaths.

“I understand, but we need to stop, baby. If I kiss you, then I’m gonna wanna be inside you. You’re too fucking sexy for me not to want you. I’ve got no fucking control around you, Ash.”

I felt her chuckle as I kissed her neck.

“You and me both, Rock Star. You and me both.”

No idea how I managed to do it, but somehow I pried myself from between that little temptresses legs and instead of poking at her eggs with my dick, I scrambled some with a whisk for breakfast, along with toast and more coffee. By the time we were done and cleaned up, it was after three. I found her a hoodie and we laid under a blanket, curled up on the sofa, watching videos.

I’d never done this. I’d walked the red carpet with a model, an actress and once, even a princess on my arm but I’d never laid on the sofa, with a girls back pressed into my front and watched a film. If I’d have had any clue as to how good it felt, I would’ve spent most afternoons this way.

We took turns choosing films. Obviously, being the gentleman that I was, I let Ashley choose first and was relieved when she chose Willow and not Beaches out of the choices available. It remained, to this day, ‘our’ film, along with ‘Big,’ and ‘The Land Before Time,’ which we also watched.

Yup, Yup, Yup, we did.

We didn’t talk much. I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box back in those days, but I’d already worked out that Ashley didn’t like to talk about her family, or the fact that she worked for mine, so for the most part, I stayed quiet, just answering any questions she asked me.

Sometime during the evening, my hand had found its way under the T-shirt and hoodie of mine that she wore, and my fingers stroked over her waist and the curve of her hip continuously. I desperately wanted to move my hand higher and cup hold of her tits, or slide my hand below the waistband of the joggers she wore and feel the heat between her legs.

I’d done a lot of things with a lot of different women in my life, but that, lying on my sofa with her little body pushed against mine and the sensation of her silky skin beneath my fingers was by far one of the most pleasurable moments of my life.

I kissed her neck, which was fast becoming a favourite thing of mine to do to her, loving the way her skin erupted in goose bumps when I did it. I whispered into her ear.

“Please stay here with me tonight?”

She was quiet for a few seconds. I’d felt her breathing halt and then noticed the long breath that she let out.

“No, Marley. I have work in the morning. I need to go home.”

So just after midnight, I packed her off in a taxi. She’d refused point blank to let me drive her home and was too mortified about throwing up in his car last night to let me call Dave, so in the end, I called her a cab.

I gave the driver eighty quid and told him to make sure that he dropped her at her door.

Ash had refused to even give me a phone number to contact her on and told me to just call the shop if I wanted to see her again.

Did I want to see her again?

Yes ... No ...I had no fucking clue.

My bed smelt of her and me and I loved it. I held onto the pillow that she’d laid on, but that didn’t help me sleep. Eventually, I watched a porno that I’d picked up in Amsterdam and had a wank into a condom.

I was all about the rock star life for me!

My hand job of the night before did nothing to reduce the size of the hard on I woke up with the following morning. After giving myself another little tug in the shower, I got dressed and drove myself to my brother’s office.

Although Len was still our manager, he no longer worked for the record label. He’d successfully branched out as a manager and agent for other bands, singers, actors, and models. He was a shrewd businessman, and had also invested his, mine, and Maca’s money into executively producing a couple of films, and even the albums of a few up-and-coming bands. It basically meant that we financed the projects and shared in the profits of their success. So far, Len hadn’t let us down and we had made money on all of our investments.

Jimmie worked alongside Len and they had recently moved into new offices in Canary Wharf, not too far from where Maca and myself now lived.

Jim had called yesterday to check that I’d gotten Ashley home safe; to say that she was shocked that Ash was still at my place at seven Sunday night was an understatement, and I actually had to put her on the phone to Jim to prove it.

I tapped my fingers against my legs as I rode up in the lift to speak to my future sister-in-law and tried to think of a way of getting the info that I needed, without Jimmie jumping to conclusions.

The lift opened on the eighth floor and two secretarial looking types stepped in. I pulled the cap I was wearing down a little lower and pushed my sunglasses up my nose.

“Going up?” The redhead in the skin-tight skirt asked.

“Yep.” I replied.

“Would go down for him?” The brunette whispered, way too loudly to her friend as she pushed the button for the twelfth floor.

I couldn’t help but give a little smile, but my dick didn’t even open his slitty little eye.

A redhead and a brunette. Apparently, my dick was favouring blondes at that moment.

The girls stepped out at their floor, both of them looking over their shoulders at me as they did. The redhead even gave me a wink. I waved as the door closed, but that was just to maintain the image.

I opened the doors and stepped into my brother’s suite of offices. He’d done well, my big brother, and would probably end up richer than all of us. I couldn’t have been happier for him.

“Mr. Layton, I don’t think we were expecting you today.” Gina, the receptionist greeted me.

“Morning, Gina, it’s actually Jimmie I’m here to see, not Len. If she’s got a minute, that is.” I took my glasses off and gave her my very best smile.

“I’ll just check that Ms. Emmanuel is free.”

She put a call through to Jim’s office and her door flew open a few seconds later. Jim stepped out looking every inch the highflying executive assistant that she now was.

Jim had been a part of our management team for a lot of years, and always looked good in her business wear.

“Looking sharp Ms. Emmanuel, looking very sharp for a Monday morning.” I told her while leaning in to kiss her cheek.

She frowned as she looked me over.

“Mr. Layton, this is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t realise that you rock stars knew that this time of day even existed.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised at what us rock stars know.”

“Hmm, doubt that.” She said with a smile. “What are you after?”

“A quick word, if that’s all right?”

“Of course, come in. Len’s got someone with him, but he’ll be done in a bit.” She stated.

“Tell Len to come into my office when his eleven o’clock leaves, please, Gina. He’s got no one else due till after lunch.”

“Sure thing.” Gina replied.

I followed Jimmie into her office and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as she sat behind her desk and I sat opposite her.

“What you grinning at?” She asked, her brown eyes sparkling.

“You. Us. All of this.” I gestured around the room. “We’ve come a long fucking way since our summerhouse and the transit van.”

She sits back in her chair and lets out a little laugh. “From smelly back rooms in pubs with half a cider, to Wembley Stadium and a chilled bottle of bolly. It was all down to the hard work put in by you boys. I’m just the assistant.”

“Fuck off, Jim. You’re as much a part of our success as me, Maca, Bill, Tommy, or Len. Even George is responsible for part of it. We’re a family, connected by the band, not just blood or marriage, and I hope it always stays that way.” I told her, hoping she truly believed the sincerity I tried to express in my voice.

“Me too, Marls. Me too.” She swiped under her eye. “You’re gonna make me cry and ruin my make-up, you fucker. Is that all you came here for?”

Now, this was the part where I needed to be stealth like and ask my questions in such a way that Jim, who let’s face it, could probably have gotten a job with MI5 if she didn’t work for us, won’t work out what I was up to.

“You heard from George or Maca since Saturday night?” I asked.

“Yep, spoke to them this morning. They’re going house hunting. Can you believe it?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Maca told Len, then I called and spoke to George, and she said that Sean wants them to move in together. Enough time’s been wasted so he doesn’t want to hang around.” She taps her pen on the desk as she watches my reaction. “Sorry, Marls. You should be hearing this from Maca, not from me.”

“Na, na. Its fine, Jim, honest. I thought they might just fuck off somewhere on the quiet and get married, so it’s not like it’s come as a shock that they wanna move in together. I just hope it all works out for them.”

“Yeah, me too.” She said with a smile. “Me too.”

We’re silent for just a few seconds before Jimmie jumps in.

“So, you and Ash. How’d that go?” I knew she wouldn’t last long. Jimmie was the one person I could rely on to know everything about everything. If you wanted gossip, go to Jim. Nothing got past her. This also meant that I was playing with a double-edged sword. I wanted info on Ash, but I don’t want Jim clocking onto the fact that I like her, a lot.

“She’s a nice girl. We had a laugh together.” I tried to sound casual as I lifted my right ankle to rest on my left knee.

“Must have been hilarious if you kept her hanging around until Sunday evening.”

I shrugged my shoulders, whilst trying not to shrink back into the chair and hide from Jimmie’s scrutiny.

“We watched a few films, lost track of time.”

“What time did she leave?”

Shit!

“What time did she leave your place?”

I scratch my eyebrow. “Ah, not sure. It wasn’t that late.”

She nodded her head and looked me right in the eye. “Marls, I’ve never interfered in the way you live your life. None of us are angels, we never have been. Now I’m not the judgy type, but I just wanna put this out there. Ash hasn’t had the greatest of upbringings. She comes from a rough family. Her dad and her brother have both been in prison and her mum has been on the...” She trailed off and tapped her pen harder on her desk. “Ashley’s story isn’t mine to tell. I don’t think George even knows the whole truth. She was going through the whole Maca break up and dealing with the press during our exams when I found Ash crying in the girls’ toilets one day at school. She told me some shit about her home life and I had her come stay with me for a while.” She kept her eyes on me as she chewed on the inside of her bottom lip, as though contemplating what to say next.

My heart was hitting my ribs. It was pounding so hard I could feel my pulse in my ears. I’m scared of what she would tell me. Just the thought of Ashley crying in the school toilets made me want to break something, or someone. I’d really like to know who, or what, made her cry that day, but at the same time, I was worried what my reaction might be. I’m not a violent person by nature. Bailey and George are the fiery pair of our family, but just the idea of someone hurting or upsetting Ash had me feeling a little bit out of control.

“Luckily, her brother had just come out of prison so she was able to go and live with him.” Jim continued.

“You sent her to live with her brother? What was he banged up for?” My voice sounded too high, giving away my panic.

“Her brother’s Ryan Morrison. You remember him from school, don’t you Marls?”

Fuck!

“The dealer? Her brother’s Ryan Morrison, who we used to get our gear from?”

Jimmie nodded.

“I thought you knew that. I can’t believe you don’t remember Ash from school.”

I can’t fucking believe it either.

“So, what about now? She still live with her brother?” My voice was once again rising with panic.

“Na. She lives on her own somewhere now. I’m not sure where, though. Can’t be too far from the shop, as I think she walks to work.”

A thousand and one thoughts rushed through my brain. I needed to find out where she lived. I needed to make sure it was safe. I needed to find out what went on with her family, and I needed to keep her brother the fuck away from her.

“All I’m trying to say here, Marls, is that that girl has been through a lot of shit so please, please don’t mess her around. Did you shag her?”

Fuck this cloak and dagger shit. I was just gonna put it out there. “No, I didn’t, Jim, and ya know what? It was one of the best times I’ve had with a girl in like, forever. I really like her, Jim. I wanna see her again, but she wouldn’t give me a number. She told me to call the shop if I was serious about seeing her again.”

Jimmie had stopped tapping her pen and was just staring at me with her mouth slightly open.

“Say something, Jim.” My cheeks burn.

I don’t blush, ever. At least, not since yesterday.

“I don’t ... Marley, I can’t.”

The door adjoining Len’s office opened and he walked in.

“Little brother Marley, how’s it hanging?” Len asked. He moved to kiss Jimmie on the cheek but stopped, looked at her, then at me.

“What’d ya do?” He asked.

Jimmie and I remained silent.

“Marls? What the fuck have you done?”

“Nothing. He’s done nothing,” Jimmie reassured him.

He leaned on her desk beside her, facing me, wearing a frown and a look of concern.

“What’s going on then?” He asked.

“We were just discussing Georgia and Maca, and I was asking how things went with Ashley.” Jim stated, giving me a wink that my brother missed.

“Ah, yeah. How did that all work out in the end? Heard she was still at your place last night, didn’t leave till after midnight.”

Jimmie’s mouth dropped open at Len’s revelation. My mouth dropped open, in fact.

“How the fuck d’ya know that?” I asked.

“I just spoke to Maca. The doorman at your building told him this morning. Maca was checking you were alone before he took G up. Ya know, didn’t wanna catch you in the act.”

Unbelievable. Every fucker now knows my business. “I, uh, yeah, it went good. I-I really like her.” I admitted, sorta.

“D’ya bang her?”

“Lennon.” Jimmie admonished him. I gave Jim a frown and a ‘what the fuck’ face. Didn’t she just ask me the exact same question? In return, I get an affronted glare, meaning, ‘Yeah, but I’m Jimmie. I’m allowed to ask those kinds of questions.’

Len looked between the two of us and started to laugh. “Seriously? You didn’t bang her?” he asked again.

“I never said that. I never said anything, dickwad.” I folded my arms across my chest and shot my brother a death stare.

“Oh my god, you like her. You actually like her.” The fucker threw his head back and laughed. “You actually care about this girl.” He continued.

I stood up to leave.

“Ya know what, Len? If you ever actually took the time to get to know me, you’d realise that I care about all the birds I take home. I’m always respectful and I always make it clear that it’ll mean nothing more than a shag to me, so that their feelings don’t get hurt when I don’t remember their name, or that we’ve even met the next time I might bump into them.”

My face was burning and my neck, back, and palms felt sweaty. I don’t know why his comments pissed me off, but they did, big time.

“Marls, he didn’t mean...” Jimmie started to speak, but I shut her down.

“Nah, it’s all right, Jim. I’m aware of what you all think. Len’s the brains, Bailey’s the brawn, and then there’s good ol’ Marley, merrily shagging his way through life without a care in the world. Not too sharp, but the girls, they just can’t get enough.” I licked my lips and nodded my head as I looked between the pair of them. “Well, just so we’re clear, I care. I care a lot more than any of you give me credit for.”

I turned and left. They didn’t call out, they didn’t attempt to follow me, and I was glad. I’d no idea why I was struggling to keep my emotions under control today, but right at that moment, I actually felt like I could cry.