Keep Me (Beggar's Choice #3) Read online

  I suddenly feel sorry for all those women out there that will never be treated to this view, but then I remember the many newspaper accounts about him and dismiss the pity because I think there’s a lot of women out there who’ve already had the pleasure.

  I follow him up the oak and glass stairs past enormous abstract paintings in vivid colours on white walls, and then down a corridor to a solid oak door. Opening it he gestures for me to go in and I squeeze past him feeling the intense heat of his body and inhaling the scent of him which seems to comprise grapefruit and sandalwood combined with traces of a strong perfume which I really don’t think is his.

  As if on cue footsteps patter down another staircase and a beautiful blonde girl comes into sight and I gape open mouthed at the sight. It’s not because she’s blonde, it’s not because she’s beautiful, it’s because she’s absolutely stark naked and makes no move to cover herself when she sees us. Instead fury springs into her eyes and she comes flying down the hall.

  “What the fuck Bram, could you not wait until I’d gone before you brought the next one in? It’s like we’re on a fucking conveyor belt or something.” She’s almost on us now with her hand outstretched towards me and I step smartly closer to Bram. If her nails are going into skin then his is a much better option than mine. Unperturbed he moves towards her, flinging his arm around her shoulders and stopping her forward momentum.

  “Mina, Mina,” he chides hesitantly at first and then with growing certainty that this is indeed her name. I roll my eyes. “There’s no need for this. This is Alys.” I wave faintly trying hard to look like it’s normal to be having an introduction when one of the parties is completely naked. Then I jerk as he carries on lying glibly. “Alys is my cousin love, over from Ireland.”

  Mina immediately relaxes and slumps against him. “Sorry,” she murmurs. “I just thought you’d brought another girl in. Not that I’m averse you know. I mean I can’t be. I still remember that night with you and Sid. It was the hottest night of my life, but a girl likes to be asked and I don’t normally go for sharing a bloke with another girl. You know me, I like the attention so it’s two men all the way for me.”

  By now I’m leaning against the door with my mouth hanging open wildly. Who the fuck brings up the subject of threesomes first thing in the morning with someone that he’s just introduced as his cousin?

  Bram sneaks a look at me a slight flush on his cheeks, and then snorts at my expression which he hastily turns into a cough. “Well Mina let’s not mention that here,” he says hurriedly. “Alys here is a very sheltered young girl and being family and all maybe it’d be better if you scooted off.”

  She looks like she’s going to argue at this and he shoots me an imploring glance. Sighing I stand up straighter. “Yes I was raised in a convent,” I say reverently and completely untruthfully. “This sort of life is very alien to me, and I’m going to have to ring Sister Evelyn and get her to say prayers for Bramley’s immortal soul.”

  “What?” she gapes and Bram looks at me admiringly.

  “Yes, he’s a sinner and hell’s waiting. He might be pretty to look at but the Devil’s inside him and he’s going to burn in the fiery pits of …”

  “Okay,” Bram says in a loud voice clapping his hands and ushering Mina away. “Let’s let Alys have some rest, she needs it.”

  “She’s a fucking fruitcake,” Mina announces in a very loud voice. “She needs sectioning, not a rest.”

  “Ah love no,” Bram says primly. “She’s family and we Irish take care of that. Let’s get your bag and maybe your clothes.” She shoots him a hot look and he falters slightly. “Okay clothes later. You have the best ideas Mina.” They disappear up the stairs but he stops suddenly, and motioning her to carry on he paces back to me.

  I try to ignore the semi he’s now packing in those tight boxers in favour of his pretty face but it’s difficult. “Alys,” he exclaims happily. “I think this might work out. You’re going to be excellent in getting rid of unwanted visitors.”

  “I’m not a fucking Rottweiler,” I say indignantly and feel obliged to add, “And you shouldn’t treat women like that,” but he huffs and waves his hand cavalierly.

  “Mina knows the score. Both of us fuck other people. We just hook up when we’re on our own. No really, you and me …this could be the start of a beautiful relationship.”

  “But you’ve not actually got rid of her yet have you?”

  “Not yet,” he says impishly. “But when it’s time I’m just going to mention your medication and she’ll be off like a shot.” He grabs my shoulder lightly and I try hard not to gasp at the electric feel of his skin. “Make yourself at home cousin,” he murmurs and then he’s gone.

  I let out a long breath and ease my way into the room closing the door securely behind me. For a few minutes I stand there just processing the morning’s events and Hurricane Bramley and then the room utterly distracts me with its beauty.

  It’s massive and looks like a room from a magazine spread with plain white walls and a huge, light oak sleigh bed made up with white and pale green striped bed linen topped with a squashy, pale green comforter. Over the bed is a large painting of a stormy beach with lowering clouds and a windswept sea, and on the right is another door flanked by light oak doors which look like wardrobes.

  Opening the door I peer in and sigh at the sight of a standalone bath large enough to fit three people. There’s a large, glass enclosed shower and enough counter space to fit all of my toiletries. There’s even a flat screen TV set into the wall over the bath and fluffy, expensive looking, pale green towels.

  Going back out I drift to the real feature of the room which is the floor to ceiling windows which look out onto the most beautiful view of the River Thames. It’s high tide at the moment and the water sails sluggishly by with little white tops whipped by the stiff breeze and gleaming in the sudden shafts of sunlight fighting through the clouds. I sink into a squashy, cream armchair positioned to look at that view.

  This is the most beautiful room that I’ve ever been in, not that there’s much competition. Growing up we never had much with it being just me and my mum and when she died leaving me with Richard my stepfather, home had become a cold place and I’d even been grateful when he’d announced that he couldn’t look after a deaf kid and put me into social care.

  I’d slipped through several homes, some good, some bad before ending up at one run by the church which had been better than most. Needless to say this existence hadn’t led to much luxury and I’ve never seen anything like the richness that is Bram’s home. I’m equally certain that my halls of residence at university wouldn’t look like this.

  However, I remind myself firmly that this is Bram’s home not mine. He’s been very generous to have me here and I can’t ever outstay my welcome so I must remember not to get too comfy. I always remind myself of this. A lifetime of drifting around not being at home anywhere has left me with no roots and glad of it.

  I’m uneasily aware that it would be easy to fall for Bram. Ten minutes in his company is enough to tell me that. He’s easy on the eye after all but it’s not just that. He’s talented and funny with a very self-deprecating air about him but he can’t fool me. I’d noticed that gleam of restless intelligence in his eyes as soon as he’d met me, and he’d quickly adapted to my deafness ensuring that he was looking at me when he spoke to me without any prompting, telling me that he’s kind. The hint of stubbornness about those full lips also can’t be hidden, and all together he’s a very appealing package and I can see why so many women fall for him. I won’t be one though.

  I’ve come to London for a fresh start. No one knows me here so I won’t have any of the pity that normally wafts my way, or the unease in how to handle me and what slot to put me in. Here, I’m unknown and I can make my future. Tangling with a hot rock star who knows my background isn’t in my game plan.

  Thinking about his smile though I chuckle. Maybe being friends with him won’t hurt.

 
; Chapter Two

  Alys

  A few hour’s later I wake up with a start. I hadn’t intended to go to sleep but after unpacking my suitcase tiredness from the travel had overtaken me. Now I’m tangled in the duvet and wonderfully comfortable but I’ve got too much to do over the next few days to waste time sleeping.

  I roll to the side admiring the sun coming in through the tall windows. For a moment I wonder idly about who Bram gets to clean the windows this high up in a penthouse flat, but then I dismiss it as a problem that I’m not ever likely to have and get to my feet and stretch.

  I screw in my hearing aid, adjusting it so that it sits comfortably, and then I pad into the bathroom to freshen up and redo my make-up. Once done I head over to the wardrobes which are of such a colossal size that my small amount of clothes look ridiculous hanging in a tidy corner.

  I opt for comfort and pull on my grey flannel cigar trousers that I roll up my ankles. I team them with a white t-shirt, my grey Converse and clip my hair back with a bulldog clip. I pull out my asymmetrical black jacket and my oversize black scarf which I’ll throw on when I go out. Satisfied, I grab the university welcome package with my induction details in them and go to the door.

  For a second I hesitate feeling a little uncertain. Bram is after all a complete stranger and it’s awkward staying in someone else’s home, but I’ve had plenty of practice at first mornings with total strangers during my years with foster families so I suck it up and head downstairs. As I reach the bottom of the staircase I see the kitchen opposite and hearing the sound of voices I head there, hoping fervently that Mina has got some clothes on this time.

  However, when I enter the room it’s to find Bram talking to a man instead. They turn at my appearance and Bram smiles blindingly with that slightly crooked grin of his which turns his expression wry. “Here she is,” he exclaims. “Cousin Alys.”

  “Please don’t,” I say wearily. “You can only pull that out in times of emergency.”

  The other man laughs loudly at this. “That’s not the only thing he likes to pull out in times of emergency. Just make sure that you’re not near him if there’s a natural disaster. It gives new meaning to the word ballast.”

  Bram looks slightly indignant but I laugh turning to look at the man and Bram hastens to introduce us. “This is Mick. Don’t bother getting to know him because you’ll just need psychiatric care if you do.” I smile at him. He’s about Bram’s age with thick brown hair and a rotund belly. He also has the loveliest expression comprising mischief and humour and I instantly like him.

  Mick doesn’t even try to look offended and puts out his hand to shake but then obviously thinks better of it. “Better not babe. I’ve just had my hand down the u bend. I’ve washed them but you never know.”

  My hand hovers in the air for a second and then I hastily put it in my pocket and both men laugh. “Mick’s a plumber Alys,” Bram offers. “He came over to look at the downstairs loo but he seems to have abandoned it in favour of raiding my fridge.”

  Mick looks unapologetic. “I’m a growing boy and I need food. Anyway, I’ve already sussed out the problem.”

  Bram looks wary. “Do I want to know?”

  “Only if you’re missing a red lace bra size 34B.”

  Bram shakes his head and scratches his rough beard. “How the fuck did that get down there?”

  “I don’t know mate. Perhaps you ought to take up with a normal woman that takes her clothes off in one place rather than strewing them all over the sanitary appliances.”

  Bram huffs and Mick looks at me but then he seems suddenly to become aware of my chest size because his gaze goes down there and stays. “Well I’d wonder if it was Alys here but obviously not. That silly little bra could not contain those …”

  He’s interrupted by Bram groaning. “Oh my God stop talking for fuck’s sake,” but I laugh and click my fingers at my face.

  “Up here mate,” I whistle and Mick grins unrepentantly and then turns back to putting some bacon in a frying pan.

  I settle down on one of the white leather barstools at the huge breakfast bar and look around the kitchen. It’s beautiful and I’m definitely in room envy. The cabinets are shiny black and the work surface is made of a white onyx. The appliances are all stainless steel and there’s a big table which seats twelve sitting in front of floor to ceiling windows which give a perfect view of The Thames.

  Bram stands in front of an industrial sized coffee machine and shakes a mug at me. “Coffee?” I nod gratefully and after asking my preference he sets about pressing buttons until the best smell in the world hits me - the smell of fresh coffee.

  I accept the steaming mug gratefully. “This kitchen’s lovely. Do you like to cook?”

  Mick snorts. “He can’t cook but he likes doing things that rhyme with it.”

  Bram grimaces. “No, fuck no. I can’t fucking cook to save my life. The only thing I use this for is making coffee.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “Do you like cooking?”

  I nod. “I do but I’ve never cooked in a kitchen like this.”

  He waves his hand airily. “Well feel free to take over the room.”

  “Oh I wouldn’t want to get in the way,” I say uneasily.

  “You’re not,” he says firmly leaning over the breakfast bar and I become caught in his golden gaze. “You’re not a guest Alys. You live here.”

  We both suddenly become aware that Mick is filming us on his phone.

  “What the fuck?” Bram says. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s probably the first and last time that you’ll ever tell a girl that she can live with you. I feel like it should be recorded for posterity and obviously shared on my lucrative YouTube account to which advertisers are flocking.”

  Bram makes a grab for the phone but Mick dances out of his way making come hither gestures accompanied by rude noises and I laugh as he chases him out of the room.

  Silence falls apart from the sizzling of the bacon on the hob. I sip some more coffee and then pull the packet of information towards me. When Bram wanders back in about ten minutes later he finds me eating the bacon and deep in the papers. Fixing himself another cup of coffee he sits down next to me, pinches a piece of bacon and starts thumbing through the paperwork nosily.

  I stare at him reprovingly but he just grins unrepentantly. Reading my course letter he snorts. “This is why I never went to university. Why the fuck do these people always use ten words when only one would have done? Look at this paragraph. It could have been condensed very quickly into ‘we welcome you to the university but most of all we welcome you because you are paying the exorbitant tuition fees which will keep the Dean’s office in wall to wall carpet’. Bet if they were being charged per word it would have been a shorter and less pompous letter.”

  I snatch the letter back laughing and he smiles at me widely making my breath catch for a second because he is that good looking. It’s almost off putting that one man can be that pretty although he’s not perfect. He’s too rugged for that but he has a model’s face and body albeit accompanied by a certain endearing scruffiness like he can’t be bothered. After a few weeks of knowing him I will come to realise that this observation was on the nail. He can’t be bothered with trying to look good. He genuinely doesn’t care what he looks like but then I suppose someone as good looking as him will hardly ever have had to try hard.

  He wrinkles his nose enquiringly at me and I hastily smile. “Did you ever fancy further education?”

  He smiles. “No, it never really occurred to me to be honest. I’ve been playing on stages since I was 15 and by the time I was 18 the band had taken off and the decision was taken off me.” He looks at the papers and then at me. “So what are your plans for today then Alys?”

  “Well tomorrow is induction day so today I thought I’d have a wander and work out my route and then have a nose around and work out where all the buildings are.”

  “You like being organised don
’t you?”

  I laugh. “Yeah I bloody hate surprises.”

  He taps the papers with one long finger and stares at me. “Have you ever been in London before?”

  “No, I’m a virgin.”

  He blinks and then snorts out a laugh. “Wow information overload.” I smile widely and for a second his eyes seem caught on my mouth, but then he does one of his patented lightening changes of mood. Getting up he claps his hands together. “Probably the best thing would be for me to go with you.”

  “What? No there’s no need for that Bram.”

  He shakes his head. “London’s a big place babe. I’d feel better if you let me come with you.” I try to demur but he carries on talking. “I’m doing it Alys so live with it. I’d feel terrible if you missed stuff because you got lost. So get your stuff together and we’ll leave in half an hour if that’s okay.”

  I smile at him. “I bet you get your own way a lot don’t you?”

  He barks out a surprised laugh. “Yeah usually.”

  Mick snorts as he wanders back into the room. “Always, Alys. If you try to resist he’ll blind you with his magic penis.”

  Bram’s ‘what the fuck’ is drowned out by my laughter. “Oh my God you make it sound like he runs around whacking people in the eye with his willy. What a visual.” Mick and I collapse in hysterics while Bram stares at us his lips twitching.

  “I have never had to hit a woman with my penis. I’ve had to club a few with it though.”

  Mick breaks into peals of laughter, his stomach wobbling like jelly. Bram gestures to me. “Come on babe. Let’s go.”

  We leave the kitchen to the sound of Mick’s laughter but at the doorway Bram pauses and begins a silent countdown on his fingers. Just as he gets to six we hear Mick’s indignant shout. “Who the fuck ate all my bacon?” and we break into fits of laughter.

  An hour later we stand outside on the forecourt looking at the map that I’ve been given by the university. Bram stands close shielding the paper from the wind and I sneak a glance at him. His forehead is creased in concentration and one long finger runs across his full lower lip where a silver ring is looped. He’s wearing skinny jeans and a grey Henley which clings to his muscular chest. Over that he’s pulled on a black hoody and a grey tweed jacket, and he’s got a black beanie pulled low over his head covering up his shaggy, golden brown hair. The wind blows his sweet spicy scent to me and I inhale subtly.