"So... who are you with?" The burly security guard steps forward, barring your way.
"I'm with the band," you say, your voice loaded with suggestiveness, and it doesn't go unnoticed.
He raises an eyebrow, taking in your too-tight dress and cherry red...
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"I'm sorry this little place doesn't cater for your refined tastebuds love," Johnny grins at me. "What's your usual order? Something poncy like half-caff ristretto mocha-choca skinny latte, hold the foam?"
"I can't help it if I have particular tastes, there's nothing wrong with being fussy." I smirk at him from over the top of my coffee mug, lightly shuddering as the bitter taste hits the back of my throat. "Anyway... what happened to looking for trouble? I don't exactly class going for breakfast in a shit-hole like this a thrill-seeking mission."
We're sitting in a small booth in a run-down coffee shop just a few streets from the hotel, having been whisked out of the door by Johnny as Van and Larry had watched on with narrowed eyes, ignoring their calls of "where you pair off to then?" and "hold up Bells... where ya going?"
I'd never showered and got ready so quickly in all my life after my chat with Johnny, cursing that I'd only slung a basic skater mini skirt and a little cropped halter-top into my overnight bag with minimal make-up. I'd been expecting to travel straight back to Llandudno the day after the lads' show, but when I'd emerged from my hotel room the appreciative looks that Johnny gave me made me feel like I could easily have been dolled up to the nines and wearing one of my slinky Valentino gowns. He's still looking at me like that now, and whilst I'm used to blatant appreciation from the male species, Johnny makes me feel good in a different way. He makes me feel warm inside rather than just hot.
"I'd say by the looks Van and Larry were giving us as we went out the door we could easily be in trouble." He's buttering a piece of toast, slathering on a generous amount, his plate piled high with the largest helping of English breakfast that I've ever seen. I'm trying to keep the envy at bay as I sip at my coffee, having declined his offer of treating me to a slap up breakfast.
"Yeah well... Larry's been very clear about how I'm supposed to act on this tour," I grumble. "Apparently I'm supposed to be completely celibate all summer!"
Johnny chuckles. "Oh the horror! However are ya gonna manage that?"
I feign haughtiness even though I'm laughing too. "I know, it sounds like torture. It's an infringement on my human rights, I'm telling you!"
Johnny shovels a forkful of bacon and beans into his mouth, the sauce escaping and running down his chin. "You do know there is such a thing as having fun with your clothes on don't you?"
"Well, maybe me and you have different ideas of fun," I reply, leaning over with napkin in hand to wipe at the orange stain on Johnny's chin. "Honestly look at the state of you... can't take you anywhere."
He pulls a daft face, scrunching up his eyes and sticking out his chin, allowing me to dab at the mess, and I find myself giggling again.
"And I'm supposed to be the one looking after you," he shakes his head.
"Says who? I don't need looking after."
"Says me." His cheeky smile still lingers but he says it with an air of business like he really means it. "Someone's got to do it. Someone's got to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't go running off with some rich and famous rockstar, stowing away on their tour bus never to be seen again."
