“Maximus St. Pierre?” I ask immediately in the silence that follows, my mouth running off again before my brain, thinking back to Christmas in Wales and Emily’s comments about rumors. And…wasn’t there something about a Christmas Day split or something? I hold my breath and steel myself.
Shit’s about to get more real, Charlie. Whatever it is. Call it intelligence or instinct.
“Maximus St. Pierre,” Ben confirms, looking startled. “You knew?”
“Well, only obliquely, maybe,” I admit. “I don’t exactly have time to follow the lives of celebs.” But just about everyone’s heard of him, like they’ve heard of Bon Jovi or Mick Jagger. Because Maximus St. Pierre is definitely capital-C Celeb. A-list rock royalty. Fierce guitar. Probably fierce at everything else too. Anxiety turns my stomach. My grip tightens on my pint. “Em said something at Christmas because of some news headline?”
Ben can’t quite suppress a groan. Wearily, he rubs a hand over his face, as if the gesture will smooth his expression and erase the past.
“It’s fine, whatever it is,” I tell him. By comparison, I’m inadequate, but I tell my brain to stop it. This isn’t time to feed my complex after a lifetime of comparison to Michael, but now I can add Maximus St. Pierre to my anxiety fodder too. I make myself focus.
“No, no. It’s fair to ask,” Ben agrees. “It’s just not always so easy to talk about.”
Maybe I am the rebound after all.
“The past is a bitch sometimes.” I flash him a half smile. “I know that much. Though not so much about exes.”
“Remember when I told you when we met up at the Crobar for drinks that I had dated a married man without my knowledge?”
I nod confirmation, a wry smile on my lips.
“I have a habit of running full tilt into things. Well, it was full tilt into Maximus. He didn’t wear a ring or ever mention a wife. Or a girlfriend, for that matter. It turns out he had some secret marriage with Sienna Silvers, and they had a messy on-and-off relationship—that I knew about—while he privately struggled with his own ghosts, including his sexuality. He tried to put this on me, that I came on too strong, and maybe I did. But it takes two, you know.” Ben shakes his head, squirming in his seat. “I…I fell for him. And he broke my heart, if I’m totally honest. One day, he came clean after I saw texts from Sienna on his phone that he’d left on the table. And, judging by the news headlines at Christmas, Sienna must have found out, even though it’s been months. Or maybe he’s taken up with someone else instead. It’s all in the past now.” Ben shrugs away his hurt, trying to look indifferent, but he’s not fooling me.
“God, Ben. That really sucks.” I take this all in.
“It wasn’t my favorite time. Or something I’m proud of. The media kept saying that I was into him to advance my band, but that’s not true.” Ben shakes his head. “But I’m more determined than ever to make it big. To show myself and everyone else that Halfpenny Rise fought to the top as some indie band coming out of obscurity and against all odds. For me and for my dad and my mum too, who I swear is my biggest fan.” His face brightens at last, more like his usual self, at the mention of his mother.
“Aww, that’s brilliant about your mum,” I tell Ben. His hand has been in mine all of this time, as though this simple gesture is second nature to us both. It’s grounding. “She’s back in Edinburgh?”
He nods. “Yeah. She’s still living in the same flat I grew up in. I keep saying I’ll help her get something else if she wants, but she says it’ll always be home. And it is. It’s a relief to have it stay the same, even with all of the changes with the band getting bigger and me getting recognized sometimes.”
Our meal arrives and the mood lightens. Ben’s more restored to his usual self, but there’s a vulnerability in him tonight after opening up to me. It’s a lot to take in for both of us.
We linger over our meal and pints as the evening goes on. Eventually, though, it’s getting too hot and too crowded. Ben’s the one looking overwhelmed instead of me in the din of the New Year’s festivities, and I’m the one who leans in and presses my mouth against his ear.
“Wanna go?” I ask.
When he nods, I don’t hesitate. Still wearing Ben’s striped scarf, I tuck the ends into my coat. I take him by the hand to lead him out, back to our hotel a short walk away. In the room, Ben breaks down in my arms, having the release that was caught tight in his body. Eventually quieting down, he takes my face between his hands, kissing me so deeply, so reverently, that I swear this is what heaven feels like and Ben’s my church of worship. And I’m praying for him and I’m praying for me too, because—well, because somehow I’m falling for an incredible man on our first official date. Thrilling and terrifying.
Under moonlight pooling from our window with its tied-back velvet curtains, Ben’s in my arms. Every part of him is surveyed with kisses. For restoration, for longing, for the future too. As rushed as we were earlier, we are languid together, leisurely together tonight. Ben and I are tangled beneath cotton sheets, and I trace the silk of his skin as the old year gives way to the new.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The next day is bright, with sharp blue skies. Wind blows every last scrap of cloud far away over the North Sea. Waking up with Ben is intoxicating. We have a lazy morning in bed, ordering room service for breakfast before we head out for a pub brunch. Wrapped up against the chill day, we welcome the year with a walk along the promenade and a meander through the North Laines with its shops, which are mostly shuttered for the holiday.
In a café which offers excellent coffees, we warm up. Coats still on, we’re bundled as we claim the seats by the window, perched on tall industrial-style stools. We watch the steady stream of walkers going by outside.
“Any resolutions?” Ben asks, fingers wrapped around the top of his mug. His freckled cheeks have color from the wind. Today’s woolen hat is a silver cable-knit affair with a bright green pompom.
“Resolutions? Nah. I mean, just the overall goals, but I don’t need resolutions for that,” I say.
“What sort of goals?”
I shrug. They’re going to be very different than Ben’s goals, that much I know. “Well, I need to finish uni this year. My degree, I mean. This is my last term. Then, if I don’t succumb to utter disaster, which is a distinct possibility, I will need to find a real job. The plan is for Emily to get to London by autumn, so she can take her turn at uni too. And so that Carys is closer. Ideally, we’d live nearby to share childcare more easily. And I’ll help cover the bills with a decent job. If there’s such a thing for an English lit student. None of it is too glamorous, but it’ll be good if it works out.”
Ben looks impressed. “Aye, those are fantastic goals. Well done you. It all makes sense to me why you’d want that and to see your daughter regularly. And you’ll find work, I’m sure of it. Who wouldn’t want you?”
I redden. “I don’t know about that. I’ll send you in to negotiate on my behalf, all right?”
