Just Jack: Everything laid bare Read online

  Copyright © 2015 K.L.Shandwick The author of the book

  1st Edition

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Editor: Ellie Aspill

  Cover Design: by Russell Cleary

  Photograph: Andreas Vargas

  Cover Model: Joseph Wareham

  Disclaimer: This book has mature content and explicit reference to sexual situations it is intended for adult readers aged 18+.

  This book is a work of fiction, Names, places, characters, band names and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or names are used within the fictitious setting. Any resemblance to actual person’s living or dead. Band names or locales are entirely coincidental unless quoted as artists.

  Foreword

  I stared at the title ‘foreword’ and I’m struggling to know what to write because when I sat at down with my laptop to write a chapter of a book as a challenge, I had no idea that it would lead in to a world I never knew existed. The world of books. Twenty months after I published the first book I’m on the cusp of releasing book five from these characters. I can’t put into words how this makes me feel. I’m so thankful to everyone who has read the ‘Everything Trilogy’ and ‘Love With Every Beat’ and loved the characters as much as I have loved writing about them. I am so honored to have the opportunity to entertain you through my ‘overactive imagination’. Every morning I wake thinking that I must be dreaming, yet this little indie author is tirelessly promoted by a dedicated team of amazing people who do it for the love of my work. It is amazing how everyone I’ve met that have read the books, or have come to discuss them with me have got behind the story. I’m in awe of the support they have shown me. Thank you. I hope you like what I’ve done with Jack. KLx

  Dedication

  Many people love Jack Cunningham, the cheeky character in this book, but I hope none of you mind too much if I dedicate this book to Ashley Heather Appleby. Ashley is an avid reader who supports independent authors and promotes the work of the authors she reads, likes and reviews. Ashley has been with me since day one to promote my work and I wanted to write Jack’s story especially for you. Ashley your comment, “Please, please, please, I need to know more about Jack,” was one of the first comments I ever had in my inbox about the trilogy, and the very first one about Jack. Since the release day of the final trilogy book you have promoted my work relentlessly. I couldn’t wish for a more fitting tribute than to share this book with you.

  Thank you to my beta readers, Emma Louise Moorhead, Joanne Swinney and Elmarie Pieterse

  I also need to mention KL’s promo ladies. Without you, I doubt anyone would be reading this book because sharing the word is invaluable to someone who has no publishing house behind them. You are all amazing, thank you. Emma Moorhead, Jacqueline Dennison, Ashley Heather, Sarah Lintott, Debra Hiltz, Isa Jones, Joanne Swinney, Nicola Turner Anderson, Samantha Harrington, Janet Boyd, Angela Wallace Kawauchi, Isabel Adams, Leigh Black, Donna Tripi Salzano, Ann Meemken, Tammy Ann Dove for your tireless efforts to promote my work. #teamjack

  Table of Contents

  Foreword

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 ~ Meetings

  Chapter 2 ~ A little rash

  Chapter 3 ~ Dancing

  Chapter 4 ~ Close calls

  Chapter 5 ~ Hands full

  Chapter 6 ~ Different strokes

  Chapter 7 ~ Taxi

  Chapter 8 ~ Lift-off

  Chapter 9 ~ Toys

  Chapter 10 ~ Ham

  Chapter 11 ~ Chances

  Chapter 12 ~ Regrets

  Chapter 13 ~ Making plans

  Chapter 14 ~ Visitors

  Chapter 15 ~ Detox

  Chapter 16 ~ Gutted

  Chapter 17 ~ Bump

  Chapter 18 ~ Back in the saddle

  Chapter 19 ~ Enjoying yourself

  Chapter 20 ~ Early shift

  Chapter 21 ~ Detour

  Chapter 22 ~ Futile

  Chapter 23 ~ Avoidance

  Chapter 24 ~ Disloyalty

  Chapter 25 ~ A word

  Chapter 26 ~ Different

  Chapter 27 ~ Infatuation

  Chapter 28 ~ You don’t play fair

  Chapter 29 ~ Throat punch

  Chapter 30 ~ Honesty

  Chapter 31 ~ Bathroom

  Chapter 32 ~ Expressions

  Chapter 33 ~ Fabulous job

  Chapter 34 ~ Sarcastic

  Chapter 35 ~ The power of the Internet

  Chapter 36 ~ Mixed feelings

  Chapter 37 ~ Proof

  Chapter 38 ~ Baring my soul

  Chapter 39 ~ Homecoming

  Chapter 40 ~ Group night

  Chapter 41 ~ Exhibitionist

  Chapter 42 ~ Sneaky

  Chapter 43 ~ Alternative medicine

  Chapter 44 ~ Hero

  Epilogue ~ Three years later

  About K.L. Shandwick

  Other Titles By K L Shandwick

  Prologue

  Lily Parnell and I have been friends since we were little. She was family that wasn’t blood but was more than blood, if that makes any sense. Ever since she was a tiny, sassy playschool four year old, she has held a special place in my heart. If I close my eyes, I can still see her gorgeous smile lighting up her beautiful little face as she clapped with excitement at me back then.

  The reason for this joyful outburst was because I had made a picture of a face out of pasta shapes glued onto a paper plate. I’d painted the hair around the face with bright acrylic paints in her favourite orange and yellow colours. Lily fell in love with it, and I fell in love with Lily, so I let her take it home with her.

  On our first day of school our parents pushed us towards the gate, encouraging us to be independent. I can still remember the feel of her tiny hand squeezing mine tightly as we walked nervously into class together. Seeing the desolate look on her face when she was told we couldn’t sit together destroyed me. Lily bawled her eyes out until Mrs. Moore, our exasperated class teacher quickly relented and sat us next to each other.

  After that, it was pretty clear to everyone that we were two sides of the same coin and the grown-ups got a lot more out of us if we did things together. We were pretty popular kids and got invited to most things, but if one of us got invited to a single gender party, then that kid missed out on a gift because neither of us went.

  We had a connection that was odd to most and some of my mates thought that I was in her knickers from the way we carried on. But Lily and I never crossed the friendship line because we already felt we had something higher and more spiritual than sex could offer us.

  During my younger years there were times when I wondered what it would feel like to kiss her and there was one point where I had the horny teenage boy thing going on and wondered what it would be like to be with her. I wouldn’t have been normal if I hadn’t because my little Lily was absolutely stunning.

  That was the one time when I had to distance myself from her because I knew that if I pursued that particular train of thought, our whole friendship would have been on the line.

  Eventually we talked about it, and Lily admitted that there was a time where she’d had similar feelings to mine and had been struggling as well. But we both knew that if we we
nt to that place and it didn’t work out, our relationship, as we had always known it would never have been the same again.

  Those months were some of the toughest of my life so far. How I dealt with them was how most sixteen year old boys would have; I screwed anyone who’d let me while I battled with my forbidden feelings for Lily.

  My platonic love for her had bubbled over into lust. After five months of this, our relationship was pretty strained. We were both extremely miserable as we continued to fight against our surging hormones. Lily threw herself into music lessons to get by and even went as far as taking new classes, whilst I did a lot of extra-curricular activity as well—with Sally. Being six months older than Lily, I acted like her older brother despite my more intimate feelings. Basically, I was confused about how I felt during a lot of that time. I used to growl like a bear at any guy that took notice of her.

  Years eleven and twelve in secondary school were hell as I tried to keep Lily’s suitors at bay. Instead of asking her out they would give her a wide berth, as I’d encouraged. Leaving her alone was far better than the alternative which would be me waiting for them after school if they didn’t heed my warning.

  Anyway, we got past that years ago and now… she’s still the only girl in my heart. When she met Alfie Black I just knew she was slipping into another life, one where I wasn’t number two anymore and was relegated to number three after her dad and him. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I’d always be an important part of her life and I would always try to be there for her, but I could feel our relationship shifting to the point where we wouldn’t necessarily be in each other’s lives on a daily basis, much less spend any real time alone together.

  When I saw how she was with Alfie and then I looked at my current girlfriend Rosie, it was obvious that there wasn’t the same passion between us that you couldn’t fail to see with them. When Alfie looked at Lily, it was as if she’d painted the moon in the sky. It was a shame that I didn’t look at Rosie that way because she was a great girl, I just knew I couldn’t commit to her. Maybe that was because I was sure there was someone out there who would look at her the way Alfie looked at Lily, but that someone wasn’t me. With that revelation I suddenly felt that not everything in my life was cut and dried, especially after Lily left London.

  Lily went to America to study music and became successful, very successful actually. And Alfie? Well, he was even more successful than she was. Being musicians, their lives were full on and their recent events had given me food for thought with regards to my own life, and my relationship with Rosie. It dawned on me that Rosie just wasn’t the one for me. Once I’d decided that, I plucked up the courage and went over to her house the same day. I told her how I felt and tried to let her down gently. I feel myself smirk wryly at the memory of Rosie’s reaction. She didn’t let me go without a fight calling me a fucked-up asshole and many more explicit adjectives as soon as her anger took hold.

  However, at the end of the day, Rosie and me were never a forever kind of couple and as hard as it was, I walked away. I didn’t consider myself a bad man, and I felt cruel about it at first because I could see she was upset and suffering. She rang me almost every day in a broken teary mess. I felt horrible but I had to be true to my own feelings and not stay with her out of pity. That would only have delayed the inevitable between us, so it was much better to let her go sooner rather than later.

  Daily calls were one thing but when Rosie began to ring me late every night I felt she was checking up on me, eventually she asked me outright if there was someone else. There wasn’t. That didn’t stop the accusations though, and it got to the point that when I saw it was her, I almost didn’t answer. But you know what? I’m not that guy and just because my feelings didn’t run as deep as Rosie’s did, it didn’t mean I didn’t still care about her. So I’d answer and reassure her.

  Sometimes when she’d call and I was feeling lonely I’d almost cave and go over there, but I knew that she wasn’t in my long term. There was no way I could’ve gone just to make us both feel better for a few hours and walk away again. That would only have made matters worse.

  Being without Rosie put me in a weird place, mentally. It was only twenty seven days into the New Year and I had no personal direction. Thank God I had a great job and mates because I had no woman to keep me warm anymore.

  I’ve always hated January with its horrible grey skies and rotten London weather, everything looked very drab without the sun in my hometown. If it wasn’t for Dave and Sam, two of my best mates, I probably would have hibernated for the rest of the winter. At twenty five years old, I found myself in the position of starting again. It felt daunting and I was missing the one girl who was the closest to my heart, Lily. She was carving out a future for herself half way around the world and my life had stalled.

  Like a lost soul, I woke daily with a hole in my world. I was accustomed to every one referring to me as part of the duo we used to be: Lily and Jack. We had always been inseparable, and although we hadn’t been like that for the best part of three years, it still hurt. Lily was no longer a part of my day-to-day life and no one noticed that I still silently grieved for what I felt was missing—the other half of me. So I had to face the future without Lily and face the fact that we were never going to be referred to as Lily and Jack anymore.

  I was…just Jack.

  Chapter 1 ~ Meetings

  My Life was crazy at times. I made a mental note to get more organised in the mornings as I held a slice of toast between my teeth and hurriedly pulled hard on the brass knocker on my front door. The heavy wooden slab banged shut and I quickly skipped down the stairs of my apartment block two at a time. Living on the top floor of a Victorian building was great with the expanse of space and high ceilings, but there was no lift. It was solidly built and I had spacious living conditions, not to mention that my father gave it to me on my twenty-first birthday, so the fact there was no lift was a minor inconvenience.

  Bus or tube? I knew the underground would be quicker and I was running short on time. Taking off at speed, I was conscious of the loud slapping noise that echoed through the otherwise silent lane. The slippery leather soles of my Italian shoes pounded and slid against the wet cobble stones in a fast pit-pat rhythm as I took my regular short cut to the tube station.

  From past experience I knew it took me exactly four minutes to get to the underground. I’d inadvertently timed it one day, again when I was running late. I’m usually punctual, I just seemed to start out tardy and make a great recovery.

  I knew it was my own fault. Every day started out with the potential to be the day I did things in a timely manner but other people then screwed me up. Daily, someone invariably invited me to one function or another for work, which generally meant late nights and not getting to bed the same day as I woke up. Sometimes when I got lucky, I didn’t go to bed at all. On the whole I’m a very lucky guy, so I had to survive with very little actual sleep and keep myself buoyant with power naps and reenergising sessions at the gym. Some people are exhausted after a workout but I find it had the opposite effect on me.

  I was running late for an interview I was scheduled to be at in The Dorchester Hotel, one of the plushest hotels in London, with a rock star from the band Cobham Street. Luckily, I knew Rick Fars pretty well through Lily and Alfie, and had interviewed him several times before. Questions formed in my mind and the order I would deliver them as I rushed to the tube. I was feeling pretty relaxed about my morning but that didn’t mean I could be late. Rick could be fucking awkward if he was kept waiting. Even with me.

  In most other cities in the UK, I would have jumped in a cab to get me there on time, but in London it always felt like the world was trying to get to the same place at the same time. The quickest way to get anywhere was the underground. It was only a two stop ride to the hotel from my home in South Kensington to Hyde Park Corner and a five minute brisk walk up Park Lane. Checking my wristwatch, I had twenty minutes to get there, providing nothing went wrong I’d be the
re with minutes to spare.

  When I hit the entrance of the underground station I went into auto-pilot, tapping my Oyster travel card on the reader and jostling my way for position with hundreds of other bodies trying to get onto the steep escalator. Once I’d reached it, I stayed to the left and ran past the stationary passengers down the metal moving stairway. Hearing the whine of a tube grinding to a halt I felt the temperature of the suffocating stale air increase with the train’s arrival.

  I picked up my pace and swerved to the left, narrowly avoiding a plump girl with bright pink hair who was a walking multi-coloured spectacle. I took off down the short corridor between the tiled concourse and the concrete platform.

  There was an open double door on the packed train directly opposite me and I launched myself into the crowded carriage. I pushed my way in and squeezed between some of the other commuters as the doors closed with a dull thud behind my back.

  Looking ahead, my eyes scanned along the row of people seated and I began people watching. A grey haired guy in black rimmed glasses with pale pasty looking skin sat with a blank, worn look on his face to my right. He was wearing a white collar and dark tie, beige coloured raincoat and I automatically put him in the career category as a civil servant or an accountant.

  In contrast, sitting next to him was a young student-type girl with dyed white hair and ruby red lips. She had her head in a book but was blowing bubbles with her gum and twirling her hair whilst reading a copy of ‘Anarchy, State, and Utopia’ by Robert Nozick. That made me smirk because just like books, you can never judge someone purely on appearances or I’d have expected her to be reading a topic less heavy.

  In no time at all I’d travelled from South Kensington to Knightsbridge. Stepping off the carriage and onto the platform, I made way for tourists and commuters to disembark then stepped back on, this time facing the doors.

  Just as the door was closing a petite sweet smelling brunette bundled her way on board and pushed up against me. Luckily the train was packed tight because she would have bowled me over if there had been the space. Adding to the initial squeeze, she was wearing a backpack so when the doors closed, her more than ample breasts were pushed hard against my chest. I automatically looked down and my eyes were drawn to the most perfect cleavage I’d ever seen. Hot Damn.