me and gives me a close hug, taking the opportunity to grab my arse as he does it.
I jump about a foot in the air. “Jesus, Malachi, have you ever heard about personal space?”
He smiles evilly. “Sounds like a brothel.” He looks me up and down. “How are you, babe? Heard you were living in some commune down south.”
“It’s not a commune,” I say, laughing.
He looks closely at my face. “Wherever it is, it’s obviously somewhere you can’t buy moisturiser.”
I shake my head. “You sound like Dean.”
Malachi shudders delicately. “Fuck, there’s no need to be bitchy, Jude.”
I smile at him. He’s stunningly pretty with dark wavy hair that falls to his waist and full, pouty lips. He looks as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth which completely belies what an absolute bitch he can be. It’s a trap that’s ensnared photographers and booking agents all over the world. He’s a supermodel and pulls far more money than I ever did, but his reputation for bad behaviour is as big as his bank balance.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He makes a moue of distaste. “I had a shoot in some library at Trinity College.”
“Oh my God, did you see the Book of Kells?”
He grimaces. “How the fuck would I know? All those books look the same to me.”
“It’s a very old manuscript,” I begin to say and then give up. “I’m so jealous. I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“Of course you have. You and your books.”
“I happen to like books.”
“I like Walkers salt and vinegar crisps but I don’t want to stand in a room full of them.”
“It’s not the same,” I say patiently.
He just shrugs, his body a symphony of studied movement. He never understood my passion for reading and in all the time I knew him I never saw him pick up a book. I met him on a shoot in Bulgaria and we’d struck up a sort of friendship as we seemed to be booked on a lot of shoots since the photographers liked the differences in our looks. We’d eventually fallen into bed while on a job in Cape Town and a few times afterwards if we were both at a loose end.
The fucking had been memorable for the way he could contort his body into incredible positions. However, it was spoilt the moment he opened his mouth afterwards. He’s incredibly bitchy, and for a while it was funny, but then it just became too mean-spirited for me. We drifted apart, and I still count him as a sort of friend, only one that would shred you if he got the chance to be funny. It’s rather like being friends with a tiger – beautiful but savage.
He grabs the lapels of my coat and tugs me closer. “I’m here for a few more days. I missed your arse, Jude. My hotel room’s about ten minutes away. Fancy coming back?”
I shake my head, not at all tempted. “No, I don’t.”
He pouts. “Oh yes, I did hear of you going all bucolic and shit and finding yourself a nice sugar daddy.”
“Malachi,” I warn, pulling away from him. “Don’t start this shit. Asa’s not my fucking daddy.”
He makes a moue of displeasure. “Yes, he’s an actor, isn’t he?” He pauses. “With very wild hair.” He shudders. “He’s huge too. Looks like he might be appallingly energetic.”
I think of Asa’s energy when it’s put to the correct use. “I wouldn’t say appalling.”
“Well, you’re bound to say that, darling. You obviously think you’re in love with the ageing father figure.”
“Okay, I’m going.” I turn and go to walk away, but he grabs my arm.
“I’m sorry,” he says, laughing. “Come for a drink. I miss you. There’s no one I can talk to like you.”
“Is that because you’ve managed to offend everyone else?”
He shrugs. “Can I help it if everyone is so sensitive nowadays?”
I shake my head. “I’m going back to my hotel.”
“Oh, don’t be such a fucking party pooper. I know people in your place of the world go to bed when it gets dark so they don’t use all the candles, but this is the city. We can party all night.”
I think of Asa and Hayden, and it washes over me like a wave that he lied to me. I hesitate, and like a predator, Malachi seizes on it.
“Yes, come on. We’ll find a club, and you can let me grind on you until I shoot my load.” I shake my head. I’d forgotten he was like this. Sex