Chapter 5

 

I had Monday off, before returning to work the day shift on Tuesday morning. The engagement party had gone smoothly, but it was a close run thing. As I predicted, Stefan had been understandably upset by Rufus’ demands that he call off his engagement, while Rufus had been angry and upset (again) by Stefan’s refusal to dump Alex. Alex had been furious, even though I’d warned him what Rufus was going to do. Luckily, Killigan and Marcie had arrived in time to haul Alex off to the side and calm him down before I found myself short one boyfriend.

By the time Amanda and Dan arrived, and we all set off the pub, nobody was talking to anybody else and the atmosphere was decidedly frosty. After a few drinks, however, Rufus and Stefan had a good cry in each other’s arms and were suddenly back to being the best of friends, tearing up a storm on the small dance floor while Alex and I looked on, bemused. After that, it was plain sailing, and I actually enjoyed myself far more than expected. I’d liked Amanda since the first time I met her in Stefan’s hospital room, and even her boyfriend Dan came out of his shell a little. Big, gruff Killigan had always scared the shit out of me, but we sat and talked for probably the first time ever and it turned out he was an okay kind of guy. Best of all, Rufus and I had gone back to our hotel and had the best sex we’d had in months. I really felt like we’d turned a corner and I’d hardly thought about Mason White the whole time we were away.

Which was why, when I left the hospital and made my way to catch the bus (Rufus had my car again), I was surprised to see Mason across the road from the bus stop, sat astride a huge motorbike. The chrome gleamed in the sunlight, although the rider seemed to attract as much attention as the machine. I crossed over the road and glared at him.

“You shouldn’t be riding yet,” I scolded. “It’s not even two weeks since your operation.”

“What this?” Mason lifted his arm to show me his bandaged wrist. “It’s fine. What do you think of my new ride?”

“It’s okay, I suppose,” I muttered, determined not to let him see how impressed I was. Not that motorbikes were my thing. I knew fuck all about them, but I did know one thing. “It’s not a Harley, is it?”

“Nope.” Mason ran his hand over the tank lovingly. “It’s a Valkyrie.”

“Of course it is.” Whatever the Hell a Valkyrie might be. Well…a motorbike, obviously and a bloody big, expensive one at that. Which brought me to my next question. “How can you afford a bike like this on bar staff wages?”

Mason smiled. “Suffice to say I’m not exactly suffering in the financial stakes. I’m not just bar staff at Keane’s, Eric. I own it.”

“Oh,” I said, because what else was there to say?

“I was thinking…well, more like wondering, I suppose…if you would like to go for a ride sometime? On the bike, obviously…I don’t mean…” Mason pushed his hands through his hair and looked uncharacteristically flustered. “Anyway, if you wanted to, I have some leathers at home that might fit you. I usually wear mine, but…”

God, the thought of Mason dressed from head to toe in leather sent a shiver down my spine. I could imagine him in a heavy, biker-style jacket with a white wife-beater vest underneath, shiny black leather stretched across his huge thighs. Oh, that I would like to see…

“Okay,” Mason said, his confidence renewed. He held out his spare crash helmet and grinned at me. “Come home with me now and I’d be happy to model my leathers for you.”

Shit, had I said that out loud? He would think he was getting somewhere with me when he really wasn’t. I wasn’t about to do what Alex suggested. I wasn’t stupid. He’d only advised me to go for it with Mason because he disliked Rufus so intensely and would be happy to see me dump him on his arse. I’d never been the cheating kind, even though – strictly speaking – accepting a lift from a guy didn’t make me unfaithful to my boyfriend. It would only be cheating if I let something more happen between me and Mason.

“It’s not a good idea,” I said, unsure which of us I was trying to convince.

“A lift home then,” Mason persisted. “It’s the least I can do seeing as I made you miss your bus.”

I glanced over my shoulder, dismayed and embarrassed, to see my bus pulling away from the stop. I hadn’t even realised it was there, as engrossed as I was with Mason, leather, and the dilemma of whether or not the act of standing there talking to him constituted cheating. I’d have to wait half hour for the next one, which suddenly made the offer of a lift look decidedly more appealing.

“A lift home, that’s all,” I said firmly, taking the helmet from Mason.

“Via my place?” he asked hopefully.

“No!”

He batted my hands away from my chin and fastened the strap for me. “I’m being too pushy again, aren’t I?” he said despondently. “I was talking to my sister and she said I’m putting too much pressure on you.”

“You told your sister about me?” I was surprised. It changed things, knowing he had talked to a family member about me. It meant there could be more to his single-minded pursuit of me than I had first thought.

“Well…yeah,” he said over his shoulder as I climbed onto the bike behind him. “We’re really close. I tell her everything. She thinks it’s great that I’ve met someone I like. She doesn’t want me to scare you away by being too demanding.”

“You’re not scaring me away.” I sighed guiltily, knowing I shouldn’t encourage him. “But I have a boyfriend, Mason, and I’m not going to cheat on him. So long as you accept that, I’d like for us to be friends.”

“Friends,” Mason said in disgust, as he started the engine.

It took about five minutes for me to realise I had not given Mason my address. How did he know where I lived? Had he actually been stalking me or something? I would have asked him, but I wasn’t sure he’d hear me over the roar of the massive engine. It was another five minutes before I realised we were not heading in the right direction. Obviously, Mason didn’t know where I lived after all. Where the Hell were we going? Was he kidnapping me? Fuck, I could be in real trouble here.

It crossed my mind that the next time he stopped for a red light or at a junction I would simply hop off the back of the bike and run for it. Only, Mason rode like the Devil himself was snapping at our heels, weaving in and out of the traffic, speeding through lights as they turned to amber and barely slowing at all for junctions and bends. It was no wonder he had been in an accident!

After a while, I recognised the area we were passing through at breakneck speed and guessed where we were heading even before we pulled up to the back of Keane’s. The huge bike rolled to a stop beside a blood-red Range Rover, another of Mason’s expensive toys judging by the private number plate bearing his initials. I was off the motorbike before he killed the engine, struggling to undo the chin strap and pull off my crash helmet.

“Why are we here?” I demanded. “You said you were taking me home.”

“I did.” Mason climbed off the bike, removed his helmet, and pulled me to him, releasing the troublesome strap with ease. “This is my home…well, one of them. I live over the club. Sometimes. When I’m not at the beach house or the West End pad.”

I glared at him, not knowing whether or not he was serious. “I’m not impressed, you know? Just because you’ve got money.”

“Good, because if you were interested in the money, you wouldn’t be the guy I think you are.”

“Mason…I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Did I ask you to?”

“No, but…then why are we here?”

“So you can see me in my leathers.” He grinned at me as he unlocked the back door of the club. “In them, not out of them, I promise.”

I followed him inside, standing to one side while he bolted the door behind us. “You might need to talk to your sister again,” I said lightly. “Get some advice on this whole being too pushy thing.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Mason shrugged, as he unlocked another door that led to a flight of stairs. “You’re here.”

“Yeah, only because you basically abducted me!”

His apartment was lavish, although it was nothing more than I had come to expect from Mason. Everything in the hallway, living room and the kitchen that I looked into as we passed, was black, white and chrome. There were photos and artwork on the walls that kept it from being too sterile although, if I’d hoped to find Mason in any of the pictures, I would be sorely disappointed. Most of the prints were of motorbikes and I found only one of a slim, dark-haired woman with Mason’s eyes. The sister, I assumed.

“You’ve got a nice place.”

“It will do for now. At least until I go back on tour.”

“Tour?” I snorted. “Next you’ll be telling me you’re a famous pop star.”

Mason gave me a strange look. “Have you heard of a band called Arcadia?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of them, but they’re not really my thing. I couldn’t tell you anything they’ve done.”

Mason smiled, probably the biggest smile I’d seen on him yet. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Don’t know what?” I stared at him, puzzled by his talk of tours and rock bands and… “Oh, shit! You’re…”

“Mace White,” Mason finished for me with an exaggerated bow. “Arcadia’s lead vocalist.”

“Okay, this is embarrassing.” One of the world’s best known rock stars was chasing after me and I was to dim to even recognise him. ‘Totes awk’ as Rufus would say.

“No, it’s not,” Mason assured me. “Eric, I love that you don’t know who I am. You’re everything I was hoping to find when I decided to take a break from music. I want someone to like me for Mason White the person, not just Mace White the rock star.”

“I do like you, Mason,” I said, swallowing the sudden lump that had lodged in my throat when I observed his little-boy-lost expression, and heard his sad voice, filled with hopelessness. “But as a friend, remember. That’s all we can ever be.”

“Friends,” he repeated forlornly. “Are friends still allowed to model their leathers for each other?”

“Only if they’re really quick,” I told him, rolling my eyes. “And I’m not going into the bedroom with you, so don’t even ask.”

He flashed me a quick smile, instantly back to his cocky, self-assured self, and hurried from the room.

I waited until I heard the soft click of Mason’s bedroom door closing before I pulled my phone from my pocket and called Rufus to let him know I would be late home.

“Hey, hun. There’s no food in the house. Can you bring something home? I fancy Chinese.”

There was no How are you? Where are you? Just straight in with the demands. I stifled a sigh and stubbornly pushed away the little voice in my head that whispered Alex had been right about Rufus. Everybody had been right about him all along, but I was too proud to accept it. My money was the thing Rufus loved about our relationship, not me.

“What happened to the twenty quid I gave you to go shopping?”

“Something came up.”

Yeah, something like a vital stage of some video game he couldn’t leave for five minutes, or an item of clothing he would rather spend our food money on.

“Rufus, I’m going to be late as it is. I’m not going further out of my way to go to the Chinese,” I said, forcing myself to be patient. “If you’re hungry, you’ll have to get something from the shop at the end of the road. I’ll see you later.”

I hung up without giving him the chance to answer. Go me. I was going to get tough with Rufus, put my foot down more often, tell him he had to start pulling his weight, and stop letting him walk all over me. Riiight – that resolve would last until Rufus cried for the first time and then I’d give in to him like I always did.

A muffled yell came from the bedroom, followed by a loud crash and a whole lot of swearing.

“Mason?” I went out into the hallway. “Are you okay?”

No answer. Reluctantly, I edged nearer to his bedroom door, wondering if this was all just a ruse to get me in there. But what if he was actually hurt? I couldn’t leave him, could I? Not when I was a nurse. Cautiously, I pushed open the door – and laughed to see Mason sprawled on the floor, his leather trousers tangled around his ankles. He looked up at me, his cheeks flushing adorably.

“Okay, so these might have shrunk a bit since the last time I wore them.”

“You’re an idiot,” I said, still laughing.

“Help me up.”

“Oh no, I already told you I’m not coming in there. Sort yourself out, Mr Rockstar. I’ll wait in the other room.”

I left him rolling around on the floor doing his ‘dying fly’ impersonation. I heard him laughing and found it hard to keep the smile from my face. Mason liked me because I hadn’t known who he was. And now that I did know, I didn’t care. I wasn’t impressed by his obvious wealth or his fame and I got the impression he liked it when I stood up to him. If I had to guess, I’d say he was surrounded by adoring fans and yes-men in his other life and he probably appreciated someone who challenged him.

The front door opened abruptly, almost sending me flying into the opposite wall. A man entered, taller than me and slim, with thin lips and mean eyes. He came to a halt when he saw me, his expression turning black.

“Who the Hell are you?” he demanded furiously. He looked along the hallway in the direction I had clearly come from. “And what the fuck were you doing in my boyfriend’s bedroom?”