Chapter 40: Autograph

Dating Teddy Stone brought with it a mountain of compromises, adjustments, and limitations, but I wouldn't change a single thing about him. For every negative side to this unconventional relationship, I found a stronger, more significant positive.

A security team accompanied me everywhere, ensuring minimal privacy and even less freedom. Navigating a new life in the public eye was terrifying at times, though, and Security offered a layer of reassurance. I didn't want freedom walking down the street when anyone could approach me. I didn't want privacy in public when I could be cornered alone. Protection was a bonus, not an inconvenience.

I shared my boyfriend with the rest of the world and watched my relationship feature in every tabloid, gossip site, and social media platform. Speculation ran rife, but I got a side to Teddy Stone that nobody else saw, and I knew parts of my relationship that nobody else did. That was a special, privileged position to hold.

We also lived in a hotel surrounded by people who dictated what we should do and how we should do it. Rather than imprison us, it meant we could spend more time together between our busy schedules, and the instructions kept us safe and free from public criticism or cancellation.

With the help of Zola, I'd created a new, public-facing Instagram profile where all my posts were carefully curated and approved. In just the two weeks it had been live, I'd gained half a million followers. My first photo—a snap of Ed and me, obviously—had racked up tens of thousands of likes. Reading the comments took some getting used to, but Zola coached me through it.

For years I'd tried to earn a steady income from my blog, and now I had the audience to do that. Living rent-free with minimal expenses wouldn't be my life for much longer; I wasn't employed by Ed's team anymore—far too many conflicts of interest there—and while they hadn't kicked me out yet, Helen had made the odd comment about my room being part of a contract that existed no more. I needed to plan ahead, and if I could grow my writing now, it would hopefully pay the bills when I eventually moved out.

Practical benefits aside, the experience of being popular—being adored—elicited an easily accessible high that I couldn't imagine ever wearing off. No wonder Ed loved it.

As always, Helen saw an opportunity to exploit it. 

"Everyone is going crazy for the pair of you." Her calculating eyes landed on me as we had our daily catch-up. "How do you feel about that?"

I downplayed it, not wanting to show my hand.

"Better than being hated. I can deal with the occasional insult, and I want to keep it that way."

"We should capitalise on it," she said. "I don't think any of us expected the fans to like you this much."

Nice to hear...

Ed cleared his throat, squeezing my hand beneath the table. "I think what Helen is trying to say, with much less tact, is that we were worried you'd be irrationally hated for being attached to me."

With a roll of her eyes that suggested she had no time for sugar-coating, Helen tapped her pen against her notebook.

"You're his first public girlfriend," she said, for what must have been the forty-seventh time. "They're not used to sharing him, that's all. Plus you're standing in the way of their biggest dream: to be special enough to date him."

"I get it." I shrugged. "Maybe it's the opposite. I'm an outsider to the fandom. It's not like one fan 'won' him and the others are resentful they lost out. Maybe that's a more palatable defeat in their eyes."

"Maybe. We should strike while the iron's hot, though," she continued. "You need to keep building on their love for you. One wrong step and you could fall out of favour. Any groundwork you can do now will help minimise the potential of a cancellation."

"Sure. Did you have something in mind?"

Helen's eyes flicked across to Ed's slouching figure. Long legs extended under the table and shoulders loose, he seemed less engaged in this conversation, only interjecting to soften some of Helen's harsher points or to express a particularly strong opinion. For the most part, he'd let me take the reins and lead our side of the discussion.

These meetings had formed part of his life for years, and I suspected he'd largely allowed Helen ultimate control and decision-making. Now we were a couple, with the additional layer of a private relationship to balance with public duty, Ed was keen to ensure I was comfortable with every strategy. As much as I appreciated that, I liked the direction. Helen was an industry pro, and if she'd managed to make Teddy Stone one of the most likeable guys on the planet, I trusted her to keep our relationship favourable, too. 

"I want you in Ed's next video," she said to me. "The assumption will be that any love songs are about you. While your relationship is so hot, we want people to buy into it. A peek into your life behind the scenes."

"No." Ed's firm tone cut in. "Our private relationship stays private."

Helen looked at me like she wanted backup. This time I kept my mouth shut. Fans enjoyed my blasé attitude towards the world's most perfect man—a narrative I'd happily indulged during our public appearances. However, it meant they craved those rare glimpses of romance even more, so much so that a grainy photo of Ed kissing my forehead had gone viral last week.

At the time, Ed had dryly pointed out that a kiss on the lips would have broken the internet, and although I'd laughed, an unspoken agreement was formed. If we wanted parts of our relationship to stay private, we couldn't let them drip into public. Physical affection was an easy boundary to put in place.

Of course, that would inevitably lead to an even greater thirst for behind-the-scenes romance, so I could understand why Helen wanted to exploit it by including me in a music video. But I was with Ed on this one. While the glamour of a celebrity lifestyle excited me, I still needed a barrier. Ed had achieved that over the years with his stage persona. I didn't have one of those—far too much effort—so keeping those public boundaries in place was the next best thing.

"Let's leave the video," I said to Helen. "I need to spend more time acclimatising to the new lifestyle before I'm ready to do something like that." 

It was part bullshit, but Helen didn't push it.

"Maybe we can revisit in the future, then," she said. "Let's move on for now. Becca Martin."

Interested again, Ed straightened up, tucking his legs beneath his chair. "Yes. Still keen. Did you get approval on—?"

"No." Helen rolled her pen between her thumb and middle finger. "Legal don't think it's a good idea, given your history."

For a few tense seconds, Ed stared at her, eyes wide and lips parted. Then his shoulders slumped in defeat. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and leaned back in his seat.

"Fine. If I can't personally donate, I'll lead a fundraising effort. Soph wants to be involved too, so that should soften any specific concerns."

I wasn't surprised that legal had vetoed Ed's offer to donate half a million to Becca's mental health initiative. A sizeable donation from his personal account could look like hush money if their shared history came to light, particularly now that he was dating an old friend of hers. We knew that wasn't the case, and Becca would never blab, but I understood the importance of considering the worst possible scenario. 

"We can get on board with approved fundraising efforts. Aligns nicely with your brand. Plus, if this is a joint endeavour with you, Sophia, that's even better. Good publicity for the brand and the relationship."

I nodded, and we moved onto the next item: upcoming events. A private box at a top London play, VIP tickets to Fashion Week, the latest James Bond premiere—this was the fun part. Ed let me have the final say on what we attended. Sometimes he seemed to fear I was making a huge sacrifice by being with him, but I didn't see it that way.

Meeting him had changed my life, but only for the better.

*

I might not be an official member of Teddy Stone's fan club, but watching him work still made my knees weak. His sharp jaw flexed as he chewed his gum, head bowed towards his notebook and brow furrowed in concentration.

So many people would kill to be in my position, witnessing an award-winning singer-songwriter brainstorm his next big hit, but that wasn't what thrilled me the most.

It was the passion. The intelligence. The creativity. Even now, late in the evening with exhaustion starting to creep in, Ed still wanted to commit inspiration to paper. Helen could strategize his life to the finest detail, but raw talent and a genuine love for music couldn't be faked.

I continued to watch him from my spot on the sofa, a perfect vantage point that provided far more entertainment than the book in my lap. Fictional thrillers didn't pack the same punch somehow.  

Heaving a sigh, Ed set down his pen and flipped the notebook shut. His arms extended above his head in a long stretch as his eyes drifted across the room to meet mine.

A tired smile tickled his lips. "Watching me?"

"A master at work. Couldn't tear my eyes away."

He chuckled and lowered his arms to lace his fingers together behind his head. From the way it tensed his biceps and broadened his shoulders, I suspected it was a conscious pose to bait me. And I bit.

"Taking a break?" I asked, but I was already on my feet and crossing the room towards him.

"Mm." His hands left his head to clasp my hips, tugging me onto his lap. "Think I'm done for the night."

"Productive?"

"Somewhat. Need to look at it with a fresh pair of eyes tomorrow."

I trailed a finger over his lips. "I love how passionate you are. How much your career means to you."

"Even though you can't kiss me in public?" he teased.

It was a flippant question with worry underlying it. Concern creased his forehead, and I diverted my touch to smooth away the wrinkles. Proving that I was all in would take time, but time was something we had.

"As long as I can kiss you in private, I'm willing to make the sacrifice." I flashed him a grin, but dodged his mouth when his palm skimmed up my back to draw me closer. "Just not while you're chewing gum."

He swiftly plucked it from his tongue, tossed it into the bin under the desk, then crushed my lips to his. Faint notes of spearmint passed from his mouth to mine, the freshness a relaxing drug that I'd come to associate with Ed.

As we kissed, his hand crept beneath the hem of my t-shirt and snaked up my side. Goosebumps flared under his touch, my nipples tingling in anticipation, but he stopped just short of my bra. Instead, he grazed his thumb over my ribcage to trace the cursive letters he now knew by heart.

"So I've been thinking..." His low words vibrated against my lips. "About how you're now a superfan."

I leaned back to look at him, arching an eyebrow. "When exactly did I say that?"

"You've been revising my music. You enjoy watching me work. You called me a master just now. Couldn't tear your eyes away apparently..."

The corner of his mouth tipped up in an adorable smirk, cheeks dimpling, and my own lips reacted like a magnetic force.

"And that qualifies me as a superfan, does it? Low bar to join your fandom, clearly."

"Do you know what all fans want from me?"

"Marriage?" I quipped.

Only when his smirk stretched into a grin did I realise the insinuation behind my words. Heat warmed my cheeks, and smug amusement glinted through his eyes.

"I was actually going to say my autograph."

Not where I was expecting him to go with this, but sure. We could roll with that and gloss over the embarrassing marriage comment.

"Okay. Fine. You can give me your autograph. Can't promise I won't sell it on eBay, though. Bet I'd get thousands for it."

"Actually... I had more permanent plans for it."

His thumb brushed over my ribcage again. Finally the penny dropped—and so did my jaw.

"I am not getting your autograph tattooed on my body."

Although he tried to pout in disappointment, he failed to conceal how hilarious he found this suggestion.

"No? It would make me really happy..."

I barked out a laugh. "I'm sure it would!"

Deep down, Ed loved that I wasn't a fan. It's what had brought us together in the first place. Equally, though, the running joke of how I didn't obsess over him as a musician was bound to instigate a retaliation at some point. This tattoo wasn't about me being a fan; it was about me not being a fan.

"Fine." He blew out an exaggerated sigh. "Compromise?"

Suspicion filtered through me, but I humoured him. "Go on."

He picked up his pen and waggled it at me. "A temporary tattoo. Just for tonight. I'll autograph your body—in a place of my choosing—fuck you while you're wearing it, then you can wash it off tomorrow."

A fair compromise. And I'd get hot sex out of it, so technically I'd still be a winner.

"Just for tonight," I said.

The way his eyes lit up with genuine excitement, like this meant more to him than an egotistical joke, tugged at my heart.

Or maybe I'd just played straight into his hands.

***

Thank you for reading :) xx

***

Only a few chapters left! Thank you so much to everyone who's been following, commenting, and voting. It means such a lot to me <3

Also wanted to clear up some concerns from the last chapter. I'm not usually one for confirming/denying theories as I know these are an important part of the reading experience, however the purpose of the last chapter wasn't to foreshadow future issues or use baby loss to create drama. So, with that in mind:

1. Ed was 100% the father. Although they'd broken up, they were only sleeping with each other at the time.

2. There are no romantic feelings between Ed & Lacey.

3. Lacey will not be interfering in Ed & Soph's relationship.

Thank you for all the messages off the back of the chapter, too. It was a difficult one to write, and your kind words were appreciated xx