The Bad Boy Wants Me

‘See you later,’ he says.

I peck him on the cheek and run up the stairs. I open the door, step inside, and wave to him.

‘By the way I forgot to tell you your nose looks ridiculous,’ I say.

He touches his fake nose and laughs. I close the door and lean against it. Christ, I am so in love.

Time seems to pass so quickly. Before I know it, Cash is telling me that he is leaving for Milan in the morning.

‘I would have preferred if you were coming with me,’ he says.

‘I’ll come with Britney later in the morning as we agreed. Anyway, you’ll be at rehearsals and sound checks and you won’t have time for me.’

He scowls. ‘I’ll allow it this time, but I swear if you don’t’ tell Britney soon I’m going to have to tell her myself. A) I think it’s bullshit that Britney will care either way. B) if she does care she’ll just have to get over it. I love my sister, but there’s no way I’m going to let her meddle in my affairs.’

‘I’ll tell her after her birthday party, OK?’ I promise.

He doesn’t know that I’m just buying time. I need to tell him about me, but I’m afraid it would ruin everything so I keep putting it off.

‘You better,’ he says with a frown, ‘because I want everyone to know you’re mine.’

‘Really, I’m yours?’ I ask innocently.

‘All mine. Every last inch.’

‘Act like it then,’ I say with a wink.

So he does.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Tori

‘Are you ready, Brit?’ I ask, knocking on her bedroom door. Britney is always late. I hope she has at least finished packing.

‘Come in,’ she calls. Her voice sounds stressed.

I turn the handle and go in. Her room looks like a bomb hit it. There are clothes and shoes all over the bed and floor.

‘What the hell, Brit? We’re going for one day!’ I exclaim incredulously.

‘I know. I know, but I couldn’t decide what to wear. If I take all the clothes and shoes I could conceivably want, then I eliminate the possibility of being devastated that the thing I want to wear is actually back in England,’ she explains with mind-boggling logic.

‘Right,’ I say, blinking slowly. ‘Can we establish that you have got everything you could conceivably want, and that it is safe to close your suitcase and take it downstairs?’

‘I believe so. However, I’ve still got to dash into the shower first.’

‘OK, quickly, please. Victor will be here in ten minutes,’ I appeal, deliberately increasing the urgency in my voice.

‘Don’t worry, he’ll wait,’ she says coolly.

‘I’ll be in my room,’ I say and leave her.

On my bed is my knapsack. I have only packed two changes of clothing and I haven’t taken anything for the concert since Brit and I are going shopping as soon as we get to Milan.

>

I walk to the window and look out. The street is unusually quiet and I suddenly feel a little sad. I’ve not heard from Cash since last night as he caught his flight whilst we were all asleep. I sent him a warm text when I woke up this morning telling him how excited I was, how much I looked forward to meeting him in Milan and seeing him perform. I guess I expected a text back, something, anything, but nothing.

I feel a dull unease in my stomach, but I tell myself obviously, he would have been terribly busy. Maybe he slept on the flight, and then he will no doubt have been mobbed at the hotel by hordes of screaming teenage girls. From there the band members would have been driven to the stadium for their rehearsals.

A horrible thought suddenly enters my head.

What if it is not the wonderful, funny, beautiful man who seduced me so wickedly who meets me in Milan, but Cash Hunter the Sex God and Bad Boy? What if he is different? What if I am just another girl he had sex with and he has already moved on? The thought disturbs me, but I quickly reassure myself that all will be fine. I shouldn’t be so insecure.

I turn around quickly when I hear Britney’s voice split the still air of the house. Mr. Hunter is out and only Cora is in.

‘I need help Tori, I can’t close my suitcase,’ she cries, standing in her bathrobe, her hair still wet.

‘Don’t worry. Leave it to me,’ I say automatically.

A real struggle ensues, but I overpower her suitcase by sitting on it and pressing down the edges and getting Britney to push down on the locks. She claps her hands in appreciation.

‘Come on, Brit. Dry your hair and get dressed,’ I urge.

‘Yes, mam,’ she says cheekily.

Just as she switches on the hairdryer, the doorbell chimes. I run to the window and see the car parked on the street below.

‘Victor is already outside,’ I shout over the sound of the hairdryer.

‘Your ride’s here. Are you girls ready?’ Cora yells from the bottom of the stairs.

I quickly run to the top of the stairs and scream, ‘Coming,’ and return to rush Britney along. Finally, after her hair is dried and she has flung on some casual clothes, she stands over her suitcase moaning that the case is too heavy to carry. I have a go and even I can barely shift it.