Page 13 of Everything After

The tight feeling I’d had in my chest since the dialogue with Cody, dissipated the instant I set eyes on my gorgeous husband. Butterflies swarmed in my chest, and a familiar electrical buzz of anticipation ran through my veins.

I saw him first, reading something on his cell phone. But the moment he’d glanced my way, he’d immediately strode toward the cart, tucking the device back in his pocket.

My breathing grew faster as I excitedly took in my tall drink of water. The moment Alfie’s gorgeous hazel eyes locked in on mine he cracked that lopsided smile of his. It was that sexy tilt of his head and almost shy smile that had made him irresistible to me. My heart clenched in response to his burning gaze, and I instantly felt loved.

Stepping in front of the cart, Alfie held a hand up, stopping the driver. Climbing in next to me, he enveloped me in his strong arms and hugged me like he’d never let me go.

“God, I missed you.” I heard a note of desperation in his tone as he whispered in my ear. The cart lurched forward again and stopped beside the helipad. Alfie leaned back and looked at me, and I held my breath while he took me in like he hadn’t seen me in months. Eventually, his slow smile turned into a cheesy grin before he leaned in again and pressed his lips to mine.

Once he broke our kiss, he pressed his lips to my temple. “Fuck me, it’s been a long five weeks.”

“Felt like ten,” I grumbled in agreement, fixated on his gaze. Alfie realized we’d stopped and exited the cart, pulling me with him.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” he ordered, taking my hand and easing me out of the cart. “Where’s your baggage?” he asked, spreading his arms wide.

“There was quite a lot, so I sent it in Cody’s town car. It’ll get delivered to the house by tender or water taxi later.”

Grabbing my hand, Alfie led me to his new toy, his Agusta helicopter. Once he’d settled me inside and taken the pilot’s seat, he flashed me a sheepish grin. The novelty of piloting his own craft hadn’t worn off, yet it had been almost a year since I’d surprised him with the machine for his birthday.

A couple of years ago Alfie had complained to my dad about the inconvenience of living on Star Island, off the coast of Miami. I’d admitted it had been a pain to scoot back and forth on a boat to get anywhere. But I’d argued it was a small price to pay for the privacy we had from the fans of both bands that plagued us wherever we went.

Don’t get me wrong, there is an access road onto the island, but it’s on the opposite side of the island to where we live. Alfie did occasionally drive to Miami, which was usually if he wanted to ditch our security, or if he planned to make more than one scheduled stop.

It was then that my dad, Charlie, who had been a commercial helicopter pilot in London, and now taught others to fly, suggested flying as a transport solution to our remote living arrangements, to Alfie.

Nowadays, we had a helipad on our lawn and had since realized the sense of freedom a helicopter gave us.

“It still feels strange, not needing to rely on someone else to ferry us back and forth to the airport,” I admitted.

“Isn’t it great,” he agreed, grinning. “I wish I’d asked your dad to teach me to do this years ago.”

“I know. He said you’re a natural,” I admitted, smiling as we both put our noise reduction and communication headsets on.

“He was a great teacher,” Alfie conceded as he ran through his preflight checklist and started the engine.

After a smooth take off we slowly climbed until we’d cleared the cityscape, turned in the direction of our secluded home and headed out across the water.

Releasing one hand from the joystick, Alfie squeezed my knee. “How was your flight?”

“Okay,” I deadpanned.

“Who flew back with you?”

“Just Cody,” I admitted. Alfie’s head whipped around and he stole a glance toward me, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Alfie, pay attention,” I urged, nodding at the windshield, which prompted his focus back in the direction we were headed.

“Tell me he didn’t hit on you,” he ground out in frustration, immediately suspecting Cody may have made a remark since we’d been alone.

“No,” I replied a little too fast. “I mean, it’s Cody. He knows there’s no chance with me… a-and he accepts that.” I shrugged. “It’s crazy, but I can’t help but feel sorry for him sometimes,” I confessed.

“So long as you’re not sorry enough to fuck him,” Alfie bit out angrily

I stared at him in wide-eyed horror and for a few beats my thoughts were scrambled. Once I’d regained my composure, I saw red. “What? Are you serious? Where in hell is this coming from?”

“It pisses me off that he’s still sniffing around you. He wants what’s mine, always has. I guess I need another word with him. For my sake, if not for yours.”

“Please, Alfie… don’t.” I huffed out an exasperated breath. “Jesus, I’m sorry I mentioned him now,” I grumbled. “And he’s not… sniffing.”

“You’re sorry? Sorry for being honest with your husband?” he raged. “Fuck, look the guy is already coming between us,” he protested.