Hearts on Air (Hearts #6)

  I decided to distract myself with a latte and some window shopping, since I couldn’t afford to spend any actual money. I was strolling through Covent Garden, admiring the dresses in the window display of a boutique that probably cost more than I made in a month. Hell, several months. It was a nice day, though, which made up for the fact that I was broke and my boyfriend was off filming a TV show that would make him a huge star.

  I could feel it in my bones, like this giant godlike hand called Fame was about to scoop him up and deposit him in another world. A world where only the charismatic and the beautiful lived. I wasn’t particularly charismatic, nor very beautiful. I was carrying a little too much weight, my nose was too wide, and my hair was prone to frizz. Putting Trev and me together was like pairing Esmeralda with Quasimodo.

  “You are not Quasimodo,” said Alexis, pointing her finger at me. She’d talked her way into joining me for the day, but she was just as skint as I was, so she was only in the market for window shopping, too.

  “Although, Trev does have the spirit of a gypsy. Do you think he’d mind if I called him Esmeralda next time I see him?”

  “Please do.” I chuckled. I loved Alexis. She always had a way of making me laugh. She was fun to be around and definitely made me feel less alone, which was a common theme for me these days.

  “So, how are things between you two?”

  I shrugged. “We’d have to actually see one another for there to be things, but we rarely do anymore, so I don’t really know how to answer that question.”

  “Ah well, I bet when filming wraps up he’ll be more than willing to make it up to you.”

  “He better,” I said grumpily just as a shop door opened and two very familiar women stepped out. Time stood still as I came face to face with Sofia Cabrera, my mother, and Paula, my older sister. It had been at least two years since I had the misfortune of bumping into them last, maybe three. I stood frozen in place as my gaze met my mother’s and she stared right through me like I didn’t even exist. The only sign of recognition was a momentary flash in her aged brown eyes. Her back straightened, her lips drew into a thin line and she tightened her grip on her handbag, like I was some low-down thief who might try and steal it.

  “Mamá, what’s wrong?” my sister asked before she saw me standing there. If I blinked I might’ve missed it, but I saw the briefest flicker of sympathy in her gaze. My sister was the one member of my family who felt bad for me, but she was too spineless to ever speak out.

  “Nothing is wrong. Come along, Paula,” said Mother as she slid her arm through my sister’s and turned to walk away. She had that dignified calm about her, but I knew rage, indignation, and shame simmered just beneath the surface. Not shame for her herself, but shame of me, for how she thought I tried to ruin her.

  “Um, who was that?” Alexis asked, having noticed the weird tension.

  “My mum and sister,” I answered in a hollow voice. I had to keep my insides empty, otherwise I’d feel every ounce of pain their rejection solicited. Sometimes I lay awake at night just thinking of all the arguments I wanted to have with them, all the things I wished to say.

  Soy tu hija. ¿Cómo puedes actuar como si no existiera?

  I’m your daughter, how can you act like I don’t exist?

  “Oh,” Alexis breathed, her voice soft. I wondered if Karla had filled her in about my family. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, but I think I better go home now. I, um, have a bunch of stuff I need to do.”

  She nodded, her eyes sad but sympathetic. “Okay, well call me if you want to talk.”

  Later that evening the floor of my apartment was littered with papers, some of them crumpled up, others flat and spread out on the carpet. I was trying to vent my pain through writing, pour my feelings into the words, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to cry. Being away from Trev made it more difficult to deal with seeing my mother and sister. The rejection felt doubled somehow.

  I collected several scraps of paper and carried them to my keyboard. I started to sing, my fingers finding the keys instinctively, a song coming out of me all on its own. Sometimes this happened. The music simply wrote itself. The lyrics told a story that leaked from my very soul.

  By the time I was finished there were tears streaming down my face and I was heaving big, messy sobs. No matter how much progress I made, no matter how strong and secure I felt some days, the mere sight of my family reduced me to a sobbing mess of a girl all over again.

  When I looked up I startled, because there in the doorway stood Trev. Embarrassment struck me. I was certain my face was red and blotchy from crying. I lifted my hands and tried to wipe away the tears as I cleared my throat.

  “What are you doing here? Y-you’re supposed to be filming.”

  “Alexis called me.”

  Oh, God. Now I felt even more embarrassed. Alexis had been so worried about me that she’d gone out of her way to call Trev.

  “She didn’t need to do that,” I said in a small voice.

  Trev stepped into the room, his eyes dipping down sadly as he looked at me. His voice was tender when he spoke, “Yeah, you’re obviously doing brilliant.”

  He came and sat next to me. I couldn’t meet his gaze, not when I felt so raw. I was completely cut open. Everything I usually kept sealed tight was on display.

  All I could manage was a watery, “Shut up,” before he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tight.

  “When I see you like this I just want to go knock on their door and tell them exactly what they’ve lost. I want to tell them how amazing you are and that it’s their loss if they’re too proud to admit they were wrong.”

  “They’ll never admit that. If they break one illusion the whole framework will collapse, because their entire lives are built on lies and an antiquated belief system.”

  Trev traced his fingertips under my eyes, wiping away some of the wetness. “I’ve fucking missed you like mental.”

  I let out a sad laugh. “You always say that these days.”

  “That’s because it’s true,” he replied and pulled me up to stand. He led me the few steps it took to reach my bed, then guided me down onto the mattress. “I’m gonna make you forget all the hurt, just for a little while,” he murmured, reaching for the button at the waist of my jeans.

  My breathing grew choppy as I watched his gaze darken. I lay still while he dragged my jeans down over my hips until they were completely off. Next he tugged off my underwear, doing away with all my clothes until I was fully naked. He was still dressed, his attention moving from my face to my breasts and then down between my thighs. My throat ran dry with anticipation when he crawled between my legs, spreading my thighs wide to fit around his shoulders.

  “Let’s see how you taste,” he murmured seductively and brought his mouth to my sex. I gasped when his hot, wet tongue licked my clit. I dug my feet into the mattress and arched my spine. He ate at me deeper, until my every pore came alive. That was helping me forget the pain, because right then all I felt was pleasure. His presence was a drug in itself, but doing this to me made me forget my ever-loving mind.

  I cried out when he slid two fingers inside, their rhythm matching the licks and sucks of his mouth.

  “Come,” he urged on a groan, the sound of his voice vibrating through me.

  I moaned and arched my spine even more. I could feel my orgasm building like a coiled spring inside me. Trev brought his warm hand to my lower stomach and there was something about the touch that set me off. I came with a loud expletive, my gaze meeting his as he drew out the waves of my pleasure.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” he said and climbed up my body to capture my mouth in a kiss. I could taste myself on him and our kiss went on forever. I grew aroused again and began tugging at his clothes. I needed him inside me.

  “Take these off,” I whispered and felt him shake his head.

  “I really want to,” he huffed. “But I can’t. I have to get back on set, otherwise our director is gonna strin
g me up by the testicles.”

  “Didn’t you tell anyone you were leaving?” I asked, breathless. Disappointment filled me. I’d hoped I’d at least get him for the night. Just one night.

  “No. I got Alexis’s call and I had to come find you.”

  Now I understood why he’d kept all his clothes on. I felt uneasy thinking that I’d only had half of him here with me, the other half was back on set. I thought his full attention was on me for once, but it wasn’t.

  “Oh,” I muttered, shifting away from him. I pulled the blanket around myself to cover up and curled into the foetal position. Every part of me felt raw and bruised after seeing Paula and Mum, but now it felt like someone had taken sandpaper and rubbed it over the wounds. Why couldn’t I ever be the main priority in someone’s life? Was it selfish to want to be number one to just one person?

  Maybe it was. Maybe I should just settle for these scraps. Maybe that was all I was worth in the end. After all, if my own family could side with an acquaintance over their own flesh and blood, then perhaps I wasn’t really worth much at all. It felt as if two of the most important people in my life had cast me aside. I wasn’t worthy of their time, or their love.

  I wasn’t worthy.

  Tears rose to the surface again, but I didn’t heave or sob. I just let them slide soundlessly down my cheeks to land on the pillow. I was grateful to be facing away from Trev, so he couldn’t see the hurt he caused me. Yes, he’d come to find me. But I didn’t need an orgasm. I just needed to be wanted. To be loved. Held . . . Enough.

  My head was so messed up that I honestly couldn’t tell if my pain was warranted or if I was overreacting because of the day’s earlier events.

  Careful to keep my voice normal, I said, “You should probably get back. Thanks for coming over. I feel so much better now.” It was a lie, of course, but there was no sense telling him the truth. He didn’t have time for the truth. The truth would mean staying with me when he had a job to get back to.

  He was quiet for a long moment, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. In the end he bent and pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder. “I’ll come see you this weekend, okay? I promise.”

  I bobbed my head, still not looking at him. “Okay, see you then.”

  “I love you, Reyrey,” he whispered, but I didn’t respond. If I said anything else he’d hear the tears in my voice.

  After a tension-filled moment of quiet, the door opened and shut and then I was on my own again. At least there was one thing that never let me down.

  Loneliness.

  Sixteen.

  The sky was darkening by the time we arrived in Paris. Just a short two-hour journey and we were in a whole other country. It was crazy. I sat next to Isaac for the trip, mainly because I saw the look of fear in his eyes and thought he could use the company. Don’t get me wrong, I knew he was excited to be there, but he was also a fish out of water, much like I had been on the first day. He was constantly staring wide-eyed at everyone, like he couldn’t believe this was really happening.

  “You’ll be staying with the film crew,” Neil told him as we all got into minibuses to head to our accommodation. “So you need to get on the last bus.”

  “All right. Got it.” Isaac nodded before glancing at me.

  “Are you going to be okay?” I asked, worried he might be feeling a bit intimidated.

  “I grew up in a township, Reya. I think I’ll survive bedding down with the camera crew for a couple of weeks.”

  “Just making sure.”

  “You sound like my mum. She never stops fretting.”

  “How did she take your leaving to come on the road?”

  “She’s worried sick but it’s my choice. I’m nineteen.”

  “Reya!” Trev called from where he stood by the open door of a waiting minibus. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

  “I’ll be there in a second,” I called back and gave Isaac one last reassuring look. “If anyone gives you trouble, come find me, yeah?”

  He gave me a look like I was being overprotective—and I was, considering we barely knew each other. I guess I felt responsible for him being here.

  “I’ll be fine. Go,” he answered, shooing me away.

  The apartment we were renting in Paris was only slightly bigger than the one in Brussels. I was sharing a room with Leanne again, but this time we had an en-suite. It was a relief after the encounter with Trev the night before. I wasn’t sure my willpower could take another bathroom mix-up.

  The city was a glitter of lights and people. I couldn’t wait to see it properly in the morning, but there was something about Paris at night that felt electric. I wanted to experience it first-hand.

  “We should go out,” Callum announced, and for the first time I was on the same page as him. I wanted to go out, too.

  “I’m wrecked,” James sighed. “Plus, I promised Diana a Skype date tonight, so I’m going to stay in, but you lot should go.”

  “I’m up for it,” said Paul, looking to Trev. “How about you?”

  Trev slid a hand in his jeans pocket and shrugged, casting me a wicked glance. “I’ll go if Reya does.”

  “Sure, I’m in,” I answered easily and he shot me a look of surprise. He must’ve been expecting me to make up an excuse.

  An hour later I’d freshened up, put on a purple skater dress with a dipped neckline, and some heels. Not that I needed the extra height. I just liked how toned they made my calves look.

  “Hey, look at you,” Paul exclaimed as I entered the living area. “I like your dress. Very sex-ay.”

  Trev shot him a disgruntled glare but Paul ignored it. Sometimes I think he flirted with me just to rile Trev. He cleared his throat, his gaze warm as it lingered on how the dress skimmed the curve of my hips.

  “You look beautiful,” said Trev, a crack in his voice.

  A shimmering heat travelled over me and I uttered a quiet, “Thanks. Um, should we invite Isaac? I feel bad that he has to stay with the crew.”

  “There’s no room for him here,” Neil huffed defensively, his ever-present tablet on his lap. “It was the only place I could find to put him.” He looked set for a long night of work and I worried my lip, wondering if I should be staying in and working, too.

  “No, I completely understand, but, uh, do you need me to stay and help you? I don’t want to go out if there’s work that needs to be done.”

  “Not at all.” Neil waved me away. “I’m mostly replying to a backlog of emails and it’d take more time explaining to you what they’re about since they’re several months old. Go, enjoy yourself.”

  “Yeah, quit trying to get out of it. You’re coming with us,” said Paul.

  “And unfortunately, so are they,” Leanne added when Jimbo and several other crewmembers stepped inside the apartment.

  My excitement for the night ahead deflated. I wasn’t sure I could enjoy myself with cameras watching. Trev saw my disappointment but there was nothing he could do about it. Being filmed was his job. He couldn’t exactly tell them not tonight, Joséphine.

  I smiled at my Napoleon-themed reference and headed for the door. “I’ll go grab Isaac. Be back in five.”

  A half hour later we were in the VIP section of an upscale Parisian nightclub. Callum and Paul were on the dance floor surrounded by a crowd of women vying for their attention, while Leanne sat next to Isaac. The two were deep in conversation, about what I wasn’t sure, parkour talk probably. It only functioned to punctuate the quiet between Trev and me. He was being uncharacteristically stoic, but he barely took his eyes off me. His attention had the pores on my arms standing on end.

  “Want another drink?” he asked, bending close to my ear. His breath on my skin made my belly flutter.

  I lifted my glass to show him it was still half full. “Maybe in a little bit.”

  I turned my attention away just when the song changed to a dance remix of “Wrecking Ball” by Miley Cyrus. It was hard not to laugh. This song seemed to haunt me when it came to Trev. In
fact, I used to sing it all the time when I busked on the street. Who knew Miley would be the one to speak to my heart and soul? I couldn’t have found a song that described us better if I wrote it myself.

  “You used to cover this one, remember?” Trev asked, surprising me. Self-consciousness tugged at my chest to think of him knowing why I sang it, how I sometimes subtly changed the lyrics to describe him.

  You came in like a wrecking ball.

  Any songs I wrote for Trev I rarely played if I knew he was in the audience. Those songs left me too exposed. I’d rather sing them for strangers.

  I cast him a quick glance. “Uh-huh.”

  The club was loud, which meant he had to sit close for me to hear him. I caught a waft of his cologne and struggled not to bury my face in his neck and inhale.

  His mouth did this attractive little quirk at the corner. “I know you used to sing it about me.”

  I stiffened and pretended I couldn’t hear him. “What?”

  His low chuckle made a pleasant vibration. “Okay. We’ll play it like that if you want.”

  “Look at Paul,” I said, changing the subject. “He’s got some serious moves.”

  “I know you don’t fancy him, Reya, so quit trying to make me jealous.”

  “When did I ever say I fancied Paul?”

  “You didn’t, but you’re trying to make me think you do. Actually, I thought you did for a while, but I was wrong.”

  “How do you reckon that?”

  “I know when you’re attracted to someone. You have a few tells.”

  I scoffed to cover my nerves. “Bullshit.”

  He grinned wide and took a swig of the gin and tonic he’d been nursing all night. “Try me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I’ll bite. What are they?”

  He set the glass down and reached out to stroke my cheek. “You get flushed.” His fingers moved up. “Your pupils dilate.” Next they moved down, and my breathing stuttered when his hand moved to my hair, where I was twisting a strand around my finger. “And you do this with your hair.”