Conviction(64)

“He didn’t touch me. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

Sophie shakes a bottle of bourbon above our heads.

“Will you two numpty’s get up off the floor and show me how this coffee machine works, please? I need a drink and if I need a drink, f*ck knows what you two must need.”

Meebs wipes her face on the back of her arm and gives me a small smile.

Pearce Matthews.

Pearce Matthews.

Pearce Matthews.

It’s the only thing I can think of right now, that’s going to stop me from getting a hard-on.

“The coffee machine is the same as the one at the salon in Reading,” Meebs says.

“Ahh, right. Gotcha,” Sophie replies.

I stand and pull Meebs up with me.

“Can I go and have a quick shower and borrow some clothes. I feel gross,” she asks.

Fucking hell!

She’s about to get naked… in my house.

I look between Sophie and Josh.

“Stop thinking those thoughts, Conner Reed. I just want a quick shower so that I can feel clean,” Meebs tells me.

“Yeah, and don’t look at us like that either, coz we’re not leaving,” Sophie adds.

I take Amoeba up to my bedroom, show her how the shower works and pull an old Shift T-shirt out of my wardrobe.

“Is that it?” she asks.

“Is that, what?” I ask her, genuinely confused.

“Is that all you’ve got for me to wear? Are there no bottom halves?”

“I don’t know how tall you think you are babe, but I think you’ll find that’ll come down to your ankles.”

“Fuck off. I’m not that short and I still want something on underneath.” I chew on the inside of my lip as I think about her wearing nothing but my T-shirt.

“Stop looking at me like that, Con. I need to shower. Then we need to talk.”

My belly churns at her words. I know that I’m not going to like whatever it is she has to tell me.

“Go shower. I’ll leave you some clean bottoms on the bed.”





Nina



As soon as I hear the bedroom door close, I strip off my day old clothes and step under the multiple jets of the shower.

I slide down onto the floor.

And I cry.

I cry for my lost baby.

My lost life.

My lost chance at loving Conner.

But they’re not tears of pity. I’m not feeling sorry for myself, I’m way beyond that. I’m angry, so f*cking angry that it actually makes me want to vomit.

When I finally feel a little more in control, I wash myself quickly, turn off the amazing shower and step out into the bathroom. The space is beautiful. As well as the huge walk in shower with the body jets, there are two sinks and a huge timber bath. I’ve never seen a bath made of wood, but this looks amazing against the natural stone coloured tiling.

Conner’s home has really surprised me. For some reason, I imagined him living in a penthouse apartment, somewhere in central London. I imagined the décor to be brash and glitzy. Black, white and red leather, with lots of glass and chrome involved.

I don’t know why I thought that? Con was never flash or a show off when we were younger. I’ve always considered him to be drop dead gorgeous, but he was never up himself. He was just… Conner.

I wander out of the en-suite and sit on the edge of his huge bed and look around the room. The bed and the bedside tables are made out of bleached timber, which contrasts beautifully with the gold, chocolate brown and red bedding that covers it.

On the wall facing the bed is a huge flat screen television and to the left of that is an open fire, with a huge wooden mantel that matches the timber on the floor and the frames of the floor to ceiling bay windows. In the space in front of the windows is what I can only assume to be a custom made leather sofa in a rich chocolate brown, similar to the ones downstairs. The sofa is curved and follows the shape of the bay windows perfectly. To the right of the windows is a door and when I open it to take a peek inside, it reveals a huge walk in wardrobe. The space is probably three times the size of my bedroom that I’m currently sleeping in at Sophie’s place. Everything is in order, jeans, shirts, suits, jackets. There are shoes on racks, undies, socks, ties and T’s in drawers.

I close the door and step back out to the bedroom. I’ve used Conner’s shower gel, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant and face cream. I cleaned my teeth with his toothbrush and paste and now I’m pulling on a pair of his boxers and his T-shirt. I sit back down on the bed, which looks so inviting right now. I’m so incredibly tired. Both, physically and mentally exhausted. I’m beyond pissed off with my brother’s spiteful actions and overwhelmed by the rush of emotions that being near Conner is evoking in me.

I don’t know what this is? What it means for us, for me and him? Whatever we had in the past has stayed with both of us, but I’m having trouble believing that he’s missed me as much as he’s saying he has. He’s lived the single, party life of a rock star. I’ve seen the photos, read and listened to the gossip in the magazines and on the celebrity gossip shows. I sort of tried to avoid them. The pictures of him with a different woman every week, the rumours about the wild sexploits that he and Jet, allegedly got up to. But, at the end of the day, I’m only human and a human woman at that, and as a woman I’ve done what most women in my shoes would do… I googled and researched the shit out of those bitches that were captured hanging off his arm at various events. I know I was married to someone else, but I was jealous of those women regardless. I wasn’t jealous of their long legs and flawless features. I was just jealous of the fact that they were with him. He was meant to have been mine and there they were spending time with and getting to know him. I often looked at the pictures and wondered if they knew him like I did? If they knew about his mum and how she died. About his nightmares. I wondered if any of them knew that he liked meat pie and HP sauce sandwiches?