Page 97 of Getting Real

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The door-opener said, “Tickets. Can you get us tickets?”

Jake shook his head. “I can’t, we’re sold out.”

“Well that’s it, Carl. We put it on YouTube then.”

“Wait, I can get you backstage.”

“Nah, mate. It was tickets or nothing. We’ve already met the band.”

“Dave, stop messing with him,” said Carl laughing. “We know who you are. We know who she is. We met Rand. He came to check hotel security.”

Jake exhaled and took the data stick Carl held out. He watched him delete the file from the computer log. “Jesus, you guys.”

“Mate,” said Dave, “You just did Rielle Mainline. You had to pay somehow.”

Jake shook his head and grinned. He pocketed the data stick. “One more thing—that glass?”

“Ordinary glass, mate. Gave the sunbakers a show, can’t help you with that,” said Carl. He and Dave laughed when Jake groaned. His sex fantasy was now a reality nightmare.

Dave clapped him on the shoulder and winked. “Would we lie to you?”

Jake breathed out. “Okay, okay, I’ve paid,” he said, relief flooding through him.

He left the room to the sound of raucous laughter. By the time he got back to Rielle’s suite he felt like a big game hunter having stalked and trapped his prey.

She was dressed in more typical Rielle fashion now, hairpieces arranged, makeup on, contacts and tooth prosthetic in place. He came to her side, stroked her arm, bent to kiss her. He was determined to show her he didn’t care what look she wanted to wear.

“What did that cost you?” she asked.

“A couple of backstage passes.”

She laughed. “No problem. Are we safe?”

“Yeah. I watched them delete the file. I don’t think they copied it.” He threw the data stick on the table with the room service tray. “That will scare the grandkids.”

Rielle dropped her arms and moved to the couch. “Won’t be any of them, Jake.”

He slumped down beside her. “Ah, you don’t know. Maybe one day you’ll want to be a rock chick and a hot baby mamma.”

“No I won’t.”

Jake rolled over. He put his head in Rielle’s lap. “Don’t be so sure. You might change your mind.”

Her hands got tight in his hair, her fingers digging into his skull. He’d messed up somehow. “I can’t have kids.”

He looked up at her. “Can’t or don’t want to?” The words got shocked out of him.

She pushed him away and stood up. “Can’t. Physically can’t because of the accident.”

Fuck. Jake jumped up. He reached for her, but she stepped away.

“It’s better this way anyway.”

He sat back down, watched her ignore the breakfast spread, turn on her tablet computer, shut herself away from him and become the lone wolf again.

They’d come so far in the last twenty-four hours. He understood now what it meant to her to let him see her without her disguises. And he hadn’t thought to see her bounce back so strongly from the visit to the accident site, but she had, and he’d thrilled to the way she’d captured the morning and given him an incandescent memory.

Then he had to screw it all up and remind her of what she’d suffered and lost.


Tags: Ainslie Paton Romance