“Because of the crown on the steering wheel.” He frowns again, while slowing the car down so he can undo his window and press the button to open the gates. He stops the car and looks at me for a moment.

“I don’t understand. Why would I have a steering wheel custom made with a crown on it?” I thought I was the one with jet lag and unable to think straight.

“Because your surname’s King… King, crown.” I shrug, not understanding why he doesn’t get the connection. He throws his head back and gives me that big booming laugh of his, and God, it does things to me. I’ve never been so turned on by a laugh before.

“Kitten, King is just my surname. If I was to have a custom made steering wheel made to represent me, it would have a little He-Man on it, coz I’m not just King of the world; I’m Master of the fucking Universe.” I laugh and shake my head. “Why you laughing? You fucking know it’s true.”

I continue to shake my head. “Just drive. Tiger, just drive.”

We pull out of the gates, and all hell breaks loose. There’s paparazzi everywhere and cameras are flashing. There’s banging on the doors and windows and people shouting, “Georgia, can you confirm that you’re in a relationship with Cameron King?”

“Georgia, is it true you spent the night in a Sydney hotel room on the anniversary of your husband’s death?”

“Fuck,” I hear Cam say as he just misses someone standing right in front of the car taking a photograph. He puts his foot down and pulls quickly away but not before I hear someone ask “Is it true that your marriage was a sham and you were having an affair with Mr King the whole time?”

Cam must hear it too as he reaches out and takes my hand. “Ignore them, Georgia. They will print whatever they wanna print, whatever we confess or deny. It’s what they do.” He kisses the back of my hand, while still watching the road. I think we’re both worried someone else will jump out of nowhere and in front of the car to get a picture. “You okay?” he asks. I nod. I need to call my family to warn them so I press Marley’s number on my phone.

“You changed your mind about gangsta man already, Porge?”

“Fuck off, Marls. Listen, there’s a shitload of press at the front gates. I just wanted to let you know as you’ve got the kids with ya.”

“Fuck, thanks for letting us know. I’ll ring Len to get some security out there.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, but I know my brother better than I know myself, and I know that he wants to say more.

“George?”

“Marley?”

“I’m so sorry if you think I’ve smothered ya. I just thought it was my job. It’s what was always drummed into me when we were growing up.” I remain quiet and let him have his say. “I love that you’re moving on with your life. I really do, but I’ll be totally honest and tell ya, I fucking hate it too.”

“I understand, Marls. I do. It’s hard for me as well, but getting away has made me realise that what’s done is done, and no matter how I live the rest of my life, it won’t bring Sean back.” I’m mindful of what I say as I don’t want to hurt Cam’s feelings or make him feel that he means less to me than what he does.

“I love ya, little sister Georgia. You’re by far the bravest, wisest person I know.”

“I love ya too, big brother Marley. You’re by far the joint first with Len and Bails best brother a little sister could have.”

“Fuck off, joint first. I’m the best and you know it! Oh, and thanks for telling everyone about mine and Ash’s sex life. I’ve got Bailey on my case now, asking about how he can convince Sam to let him watch while she gets it on with another bird.” I smile and shake my head. My cheeks flush as I think about what I did in Australia.

“What the fuck. Marls? What is it about men and threesomes? Why does every man want to watch his missus with another bird?” I look at Cam, his face expressionless, his eyes on the road, but there’s just something about the set of his jaw that makes me think that he’s not enjoying this conversation.

“Why do dogs bark and wheels go round, George? It’s the same answer; they just do. I don’t know why. That’s just the way it is. Anyway, I’m not having this convo with my little sister as she drives off to spend the night with a bloke with a nine-inch dick.”

I can’t resist winding him up, “It’s nine and a half actually and I love it. Gotta go. Love ya guts, bye.” I end the call and look at Cam who has one eyebrow raised as he gives me a quick glance.

“You really just had that conversation with your brother?”

I smile as I think about the look Marley would have had on his face as I said that. “It’s Marley. He’s my best friend.”

He nods. “You’re lucky to have them all.”

“I know. Going away made me realise how close we are, but it also made me realise how reliant I am on all of them and I need to stand on my own two feet. I need to find my own place to live and move out.” I’ve been thinking about it since I first arrived in Australia, and now I’m home, I need to do something about it.

“Move in with me.” Seriously, did he just say that?

“What?”

“Move in with me.”

“Cam, I… No, we still have a lot of things to talk about. I don’t even know where you live, and no, just no.”

He shrugs like it’s exactly the answer he was expecting and says simply, “We’ll see.” I’m not in the mood for getting into an argument with him so I simply ask him again where he lives. “Docklands, not far from the club in Shoreditch. My office is there now too.” I nod, but I’m not sure if he can see me in the dark. I’m suddenly overcome with tiredness and close my eyes for a few seconds.

Chapter Sixteen

Cam

I have no idea why I did that. What the fuck was I thinking?

I do love her, like I told her, like I told her whole fucking family. I love the fuck out of her, but I’ve no right standing up in front of all of them and making promises I don’t know if I can keep.

I’ve pulled up on the side of the road and called Benny to go and check out my place. I’m worried that the paps will be waiting for us there. I don’t know if they realised it was me in the car with her, but I’m sure it won’t take much for the fuckers to find out. I yawn quietly. It’s so warm in the car; it’s making me feel tired, but I can’t have Kitten getting cold. I turn and look at her sleeping in the passenger seat next to me. She’s laid the seat back a bit and pulled her knees up, turned on her side and is facing me. My stomach churns and my heart rate speeds up and all I’ve done is look at her. I’m fucked, completely fucked where she’s concerned. She ruined me once and she has the potential to do it again, and I don’t know if I’d come back from it this time.

She was just a girl back then, a beautiful twenty-year–old, who thought she knew everything about love and life, and really, she had no fucking idea. Mind you, who am I to talk? I’m forty-fucking–two. I’ve just stood up in front of all her family, like a prick, and declared my undying love for her. I must’ve sounded like a complete Muppet. If I ever find out Bailey Layton tells anyone about what was said at Frank’s house today, I’ll have his balls, and I don’t care who it pisses off.

I yawn again and look at my phone. It’s only seven, but the warmth of the car and the jet lag are having an effect on me now too. All I want is to get her naked and in my bed. I don’t even care about fucking her. I just want to feel her skin on mine. I give a silent little laugh; that’s complete bullshit. I can’t wait to bury myself inside her. I’ve fucked a lot of women over the years, a lot of women, but none have tasted as good or felt as perfect to be inside as Georgia. I wish I could explain. I wish I could get my own head around what it is about her. She’s beautiful, yeah, that goes without saying. Her eyes are the most amazing shade of blue and in complete contrast to her dark hair and skin. She’s actually a bit skinnier than how I like my women, and to be honest, at the moment, I’d go as far as saying she’s actually bony, but she’s been through a lot and it’s obviously taken its toll. I know how that works. I have half an idea of what she’s been through this last year, but only half. I didn’t love Chantelle the way she loved Sean. She was obsessed with that boy. It’s like, she thought she needed him to breathe, yet here she is, surviving, getting by without him and herein lies my problem. How do I compete with a dead bloke, a fucking superstar rocker, loved and worshipped by millions, none more so than his wife? How do I compete with that? I can’t. I’m always gonna be second best. I’m always gonna wonder if we’re together just because he died. I’m not bitter towards him, Sean, in all honesty. I love the girl that much, that I would gladly die in his and their baby’s place, just to bring the light back into her eyes.