Getting Real - By Ainslie Paton Page 0,123

your problem.”

He looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean?”

She tucked her head down into his neck. She smelled of apricot pie and mothballs and dog and it wasn’t revolting, because it was Rielle. “I don’t know.”

“Could it be, Ms Mainline, that you might miss me when I’m not around?”

She went very still.

“It’s okay, Rie, I was joking.” He gave her a little shake, wanting to recapture the earlier fun; cursing himself for making it too serious.

Rielle lifted her head and a breath away from his lips whispered, “Teenage boys just don’t know when to shut up,” and he was only too happy to prove her wrong.

As a kid, Jake thought the closest he’d ever come to having a rock star in his bedroom was a poster on the wall. The one he was making out with was flesh and blood and attitude more than he could handle. And the fact his parents were only two rooms away, and likely all ears, made the whole thing a million times more exciting than his wildest wet dreams.

42. Cupcakes and Come Downs

“Reedy, she’s just arrived,” said Tef.

“Can you bring her in? I’ll meet you over on the grassed area.”

Tef took off with a smile. Mum was one groupie the guys would be happy to see and not because she was willing to put out for a backstage pass. Her put out was universally shared, free of obligation and all sugar—literally.

There was already a huddle of roadies when Jake arrived with Glen and Bodge. His mum was somewhere in the middle of it. They could hear her laughing. She was Wendy Darling with all the lost boys clamouring for her attention.

Jake waited until the crowd thinned; roadies going past him with strawberry, lemon and chocolate iced cupcakes in their hands and smiles on their faces.

Lizard said, “Your mum’s a top bird, Reedy,” as he sauntered past, licking crumbs from his fingers.

“Hello darling,” she called when she saw him. “Oh, is that Bodge with you?”

“Yes Mrs Reedy, it’s me,” said Bodge, stepping forward. “Got any cake left for this old soldier?”

“Saved one for you especially,” said Trish, with a cheeky grin.

“Mum!” said Jake, calling her on the flirting.

“Well, I did,” she said, a wide-eyed Wendy.

On stage, Rand peered at the roadie huddle. “What’s going on?” he said, to no one in particular.

Lizard, passing said, “It’s Jake’s mum. She always brings us cake when we’re in Sydney.”

“For real?” said Rand, to no one again.

A few minutes later, Rielle asked the same question. “What’s going on down there?” Standing with Rand, she could see various roadies trouping back towards the stage area laughing and talking. Jake was standing at the outer edge of a cluster of black shirts.

“Jake’s mum brings cake.”

She looked at Rand with her mouth open. “No! Seriously?”

“Cool, huh.”

“Yeah!”

Rand put his big hand over Rielle’s forehead and eyes. “Hmm, not hot.”

She squirmed away. “What’re you doing?”

“You didn’t say anything mean about Jake’s mum. You’ve gotta be coming down with something.”

“I met Jake’s mum and dad last night.”

“You went to dinner?”

“Yep. Home cooked chicken and vegetables with apricot pie and whipped cream.”

“Yum. Was it weird?”

“Only at first. It was a nice night,” she said, with a shrug that probably told Rand more than her words about how surprised she was by that.

He slapped his hand back on her forehead. “You’re definitely coming down with something.”

Just because she wasn’t sick didn’t stop Rielle throwing up. That night as seventy-five thousand fans streamed into the stadium, she was braced over the toilet bowl in her dressing room, dry retching.

This was Sydney, this was the hometown crowd at last. This was the hardcore beginning of the world tour and the next six months of her life.

Rand handed her a bottle of water when she emerged. “I feel like crap too. But at least I look better than you.”

Rielle sipped the water. “At least I can fix how I look. God, we made it. Do you want to know how many times I almost booked a plane ride home before tonight?”

“No!” Rand rolled his eyes back in his head. “Did you really?”

“Yeah.”

“Fucking fantastic. I’m glad I didn’t know that. What stopped you?”

There was a thump on the door and Teflon called, “Ten minutes.”

“You, the guys.” Rielle peered in the dressing room mirror, adjusted the green and silver stands she’d added to her hair. “Jake.”

“So, he was able to help you?”

She nodded, lipstick brush in hand. “Just knowing he was there for me, in my corner. It helped.”

Rand grinned, stood

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