‘Got the hots for your little sister’s PA, have you?’ Octavia says as we walk through the party.

‘Since when have you cared who I had the hots for?’

‘Excuse me. You’re talking to me, Octavia, the mug who is constantly getting you out of trouble.’

That pisses me off. I hate it when she treats me like I’m still sixteen. ‘Bullshit,’ I snarl.

‘Oh yeah? Two DUIs?’ she reminds sweetly.

One of these days Octavia will go too far. ‘I was fucking seventeen.’

‘I broke the law for you.’

‘And still holding it over my head like the sword of Damocles. You did what you did and got handsomely paid for it.’

‘And the pregnancy?’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t even mine,’ I grit.

‘What about the girl I had to pay off?’

Is she kidding me? ‘That was Gavin,’ I say in a bored voice.

She laughs. ‘True. He hasn’t got the sense God gave a goose so he goes around laying his eggs in every woman he meets.’

I don’t say anything. No point. In her eyes I’m still whacking off in socks.

‘That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t trust that girl. I’ve been in this business a long time and I know when something’s not right, and there’s something very wrong about her. She might have designs on you.’

‘Designs? I’m the one doing all the chasing here.’

She shakes her head as if I have just said the stupidest thing on earth. ‘I can’t believe how gullible men are. Of course she wants you. It’s just a technique. Playing hard to get.’

‘In that case, well done to her. Her technique is definitely working. I can’t wait to get into her pants.’ I’m actually sick and tired of people treating me as if I’m only good enough to jump around on a stage and sing the words they ask me to.

‘I’d be careful if I were you,’ she warns

I bite back the nasty retort. One day. One day, she’ll hang herself on her own rope. ‘Just chill, will ya?’

‘Just remember you’re worth millions. Don’t get caught in a gold digger’s claws. You could ruin your entire future with one stupid move. We talked about this before. Stay single. Play the field. Lots of girls. Often. That way your fans think they have a chance with you. They can keep warm with the fantasy that they’ll be the one who ties you down.’

I stop walking and look at her. Sometimes I think it is Octavia who has her claws in my flesh. The older I get the more irritated I am by her constant meddling in my affairs.

‘I’m just doing my job,’ she says.

‘Thanks a bunch, but I think I have this one covered,’ I say. When we get to the studio, I hold open the door and she sails in, her grotesque lips stretched into a smile. I walk in after her and catch Gavin’s eyes. He looks bored out of his skull. He raises his eyebrows at me and I shrug. Joseph is staring into a glass of whiskey as if he’s just found the meaning of life at the bottom of it. The other band members have had a lucky escape. Robbie and Steve are already in Milan getting ready for our upcoming concert.

At the other end of the room, Octavia is saying, 'So glad you could make it, Tony.'

She is in her element.

The punch is too sweet so I settle for a bottle of beer. Carrying our drinks, Britney and I walk into the grounds towards the pit where the meat is being cooked.

Britney tells me that the meat and the men preparing it have been flown in from Argentina. This method of slow cooking in the ground to allow the fats to infuse through the meat while using lots of coarse barbeque salt is called Asado. It makes the meat so tender you can eat it with a spoon.

As we get closer, the smell of sizzling meat makes my stomach rumble. The men are wizened and burnt brown, their faces greasy. They joke and laugh in Spanish as they unload large chunks of short ribs, rib-eye steaks, blood sausages, and sweetbreads on metal racks. Another man expertly cuts them into more manageable sizes and arranges them into large trays.

I fill my plate up with steak, grilled provolone cheese, garlic bread and salad. Britney has a bit of salad and a tiny portion of ribs. We take a seat on one of the chairs laid out on the lawn and start to eat. The meat melts in my mouth and the cheese is delicious, but I find I can’t eat a lot. I keep thinking of Cash, wondering where he is and what he is doing. As soon as Britney finishes pecking at her food we go back to join the party.

Britney sees someone she knows and goes to say hello. I stand by the bar, drinking my beer and looking around me. Secretly I am searching for Cash. You’re dreaming. He might change. He might change. He won’t change. He’ll just freaking break your heart. A dull ache starts somewhere in the region of my chest.

‘Looking for me?’ his voice asks from behind me.

‘No,’ I lie, my eyes flicking from his delectable dimple all the way down to his totally suckable toes. The man is a powerhouse of raw sex and testosterone. It puts my nerves on edge. I feel amped and nervous.

‘You’re just saying that to get a rise out of me,’ he parries.

‘If I wanted to get a rise out of you I’d just take my bra off.’ Hot, lion’s teeth! I can’t believe I just said that. What the hell was I thinking of? I feel the burn rush up my neck and face.

His eyes gleam wickedly. ‘Finally, an idea we can both enjoy.’

‘Please, I’m trying to enjoy my drink here.’ I raise the cold bottle to my lips and take a sip.

His eyes drop to my mouth. ‘You’re gonna suck my cock like that bottle?’

‘Ugh,’ I cry, pretending to be exasperated. Any more of this and I’m going to crumble. I glare at him. ‘I swear I’ve never met a man more happy to be classed under young, dumb and full of cum.’

He chuckles. ‘That’s the best you can do? I’m more offended by the interest rate my bank pays out.’

In spite of myself a small reluctant smile tugs at my mouth. I know it looks like I’ve got the self-restraint of a puppy, but it’s very, very, very hard to even pretend to stay mad with a guy who looks like he ate a whole fridge full of gorgeous.

He cocks his head. ‘Come on, you know you want me,’ he says persuasively.

I actually feel breathless. I really should walk away, but I just can’t. He’s like a magnet. The more I try to push him away, the more he pulls me towards him. ‘You should quit while you’re ahead,’ I advise.

He crosses his arms. ‘Ahead? How do you figure that? You’ve still got your dress on.’

My stomach twists with sexual tension. Leah is right. This is a game I can never win. ‘Back off. You’ve got zero chance of getting my dress off.’

‘Is that a challenge or an invitation?’

‘Neither. It’s a statement of fact.’

‘Let’s test it, shall we?’ he says, and in a flash he plucks my beer from my hand, puts it on the bar top, and picks me up in his strong arms. For a few precious seconds I am too embarrassed and humiliated to do anything. Then I realize where we are heading and it’s too late.

‘Don’t you dare,’ I shout.

Seconds later I’m flying through the air, a scream tearing through my throat. Next moment I hit the water with a great splash, and sink like a sack of potatoes. Vaguely I hear clapping and cheering. I emerge spluttering. Treading water, I look around. He is standing at the edge, a smirk on his face. I am so furious I can’t even think straight. Bastard. I turn and swim to the opposite side of the pool. As I reach the edge a hand reaches down, grabs my hand, and hauls me out of the water.

What the fuck? I watch Gavin’s hands linger around her wet body and a ball of fire rushes up my spine and explodes inside my skull. My blood boils as I see his arm go around her. Fucking shitbag is trying to move in on my territory! Look at him with the stupid spit curl that he spent an hour getting into shape.

Yeah, sure, we’ve shared girls before. But Tori? Not even if hell freezes over. I’ll rip his throat out before I let him lay a finger on her.

She is mine.

Striding around the pool, my brain slowly melting in my skull, I see her put her hand on the smarmy bastard’s chest. Fucking fool has a tattoo on it in Moulin Rouge font that reads I’m The Greatest. Yeah, sure, Gavin. Next time just send out a fucking Twitter message. Idiot. You know what I’m sayin’?

As I come up to them I hear a snippet of their conversation. Puke fest.

‘I ain’t gonna lie I don’t wake up looking this good. There’s about twelve products that have gone into this look,’ he says proudly.

‘Twelve?’ She sounds dazed.

‘Straight up,’ the fool boasts.