"You can't keep things from me," I said and instantly realised I was doing the exact same thing. Maybe I didn't have a secret boyfriend, and maybe he was telling the truth, but there were still some things I was holding back on.
"Zoe," he murmured, lowering his lips to mine. "There's only you."
I let him kiss me, long and slow, his lips firm against my own, his tongue against mine. I let him consume me and take my fear.
My back hit the wall as his hands became more fevered, finding their way underneath my shirt.
"Do you want to come?" he asked huskily, unbuttoning my shorts.
"Will," I groaned as his fingers found my clit and began circling.
"Only if you want it," he said breathlessly, nibbling on my neck. "Only if you'll let me."
I didn't trust myself to speak, instead, I pushed my hand down the front of his jeans, letting my body take over and squashing all rational thought someplace else. Wrapping my hand around his hard length, I squeezed lightly. It was all the encouragement he needed. He pulled my shorts and underwear off and his jeans dropped to his knees.
Grinding himself into my clit, he moaned against my lips, "Let me fuck you, Zoe. Let me be inside you. I need you."
I don't know where the condom came from, but suddenly, he lifted me up and my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, opening myself up to him. We were still mostly dressed, the intimacy of skin on skin gone and I knew this time was different. Positioning me on top of the table, he took my mouth in a hard, fevered kiss, his tip against my opening. I clenched in anticipation, wanting to feel him as much as he seemed to need me.
"God," he growled, sinking deep. "You're mine."
Throwing my head back, I groaned as this painful, passionate, need filled me. Right now, there was nothing but this and Will didn't stop. He thrust deep inside me, hard and fast, relentless as he fucked me on top of the table. This wasn't love or tenderness. This was raw sex. This was just two people who needed to fuck to feel alive. This was as real as it was going to get.
My hands latched onto his shoulders, fingertips digging deep as flesh pounded into flesh, a blinding orgasm building inside of me. When I came, I came hard, tightening around him as he prolonged the sensation, until I lost all sense of where I was. Then he came just as hard, growling my name over and over until with one last thrust, he stilled, tremors rocking through both of our exhausted bodies.
His eyes met mine, both of us too spent to find each other’s lips, let alone talk. I thought he'd stripped me bare before, but that was nothing compared to what he just did to me.
As my mind slowly came back, I couldn't help but think he'd just got one over me. That he'd just silenced me with sex. I wasn't sure how I should take it.
He said I was his, but was he still mine?
After the show we all went to a bar down the street, everyone seemingly determined to enjoy the last two shows together. We weren't sure what we were doing next, but Louie had said The Stabs were going to Europe in a few weeks and all that did was make me worry more. Things were still a little weird with Will, especially after the way he'd seemed to fuck me into submission earlier.
As with everything that had happened with us, things had gone up and down just as fast in the last day. An incredible high and a sickening low. Nothing was ever simple where Will Strickland was concerned. I knew it the first time I'd laid eyes on him all those months ago.
As we stood at the bar, the music loud around us, I tried to put on a happy face, talking to the guys, socialising. Pretending. It wasn't long before I couldn't take it and asked again.
Pulling him aside, I asked, "Are you telling me the whole truth, Will?" He went to embrace me, but I jerked away, determined not to be put off again.
"Zoe."
"You can't screw me into silence, Will."
He let out a strangled moan, pulling me into him. "I'm sorry, Zo."
"What's wrong? You're really fucking scaring me."
He hesitated, but finally came out with, "I didn't know if you'd still want this after the tour was over. I was worked up about it all day yesterday and I let it get to me instead of just asking you. When we got back, I didn't want to give you the chance to dump me, so I bolted."
"I wouldn't…"
"I guess I panicked," he shrugged, eyes downcast.
I cupped his face, my thumb rasping across his stubble. "I don't want this to end."
He closed his eyes and sighed, leaning into my hand. "Good."
"What a stupid thing to think."
He opened his eyes, a smile crossing his face. This time, when he kissed me, it was the Will I remembered. My heart fluttered a little in my chest and I began to feel better.
"Let me buy you another drink," he said, turning towards the bar.
"I still have a whole half."
"So? I'll get you whatever you want."
"Whatever, huh?" I smiled, the mood suddenly lighter. Nodding, he began to move off, but hesitated, making me bump into his back. "Ow."
Will was looking across the bar at something and frowned, biting his bottom lip and I'd come to know it was a tell. He was worked up about something.
"What is it?" I asked, squeezing his arm.
"I'll be back in a minute," he said without looking at me and walked off into the crowd. It was still in the tone of that weird out of character funk he'd been in. I began to panic a little, thinking I'd done something this time, but I saw him grab the arm of a pretty looking brunette and start taking with her. She was as tall as he was, with short spiky hair and looked very slim for her height. All those things I had thought we'd just put to rest came flooding back.
Pete was standing at the bar beside me, so I asked, “Who’s that?”
“That’s Mish,” he said as he looked across the room.
“And who's Mish?” I tried and cover my annoyance, but I don’t think it was working that well.
“Mish was the one who got away.”
My expression instantly fell. The one who got away. He'd never uttered one word about her. Why wouldn't he say something? Then I realised the texts he got yesterday must have been from her and I wondered if he'd been getting them all along. A sinking feeling of dread settled in the back of my throat. The thought must have translated to my face because Pete put a hand on my arm and smiled.
“They were really screwed up,” he said. I know he was just trying to make it better, but it wasn't really helping. “He won’t go back there. He’d be an asshole if he did. He’s only got eyes for you.”
I could only nod, not knowing what to say and took my discarded drink off the bar and pushed through the crowd. I didn’t really want to hear reassurances that everything would be okay. When the hell did I get so jealous?
I watched them across the dance floor and I almost threw up a little in my mouth. I mean she was beautiful. Like model beautiful. Tall, willowy, perfect complexion, short brown pixie cut. I looked at myself in the mirrored wall behind the bar and all I can see is some tattooed rock chick with an attitude. If it were a competition based on looks, then this Mish chick would shit all over me. I suddenly felt inadequate. What the hell did Will see in me? All those things he'd said, were they even true?
Was it morbid curiosity or a death wish I had? I just had to turn around again and when I did I almost blew a fuse. She was all up in his personal space, her hands running up his arms, a sick look of satisfaction on her face. But what Will was doing is worse. His hands are on her hips and he leant towards her as if he was trying to listen to what she's saying over the loud music, but she pushed herself forward and kissed him. My heart seemed to do this thing where it sputtered and almost died, but I was like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi-trailer. A fully laden semi that would crush me and splatter my insides all over the road for everyone to see.
Will didn't pull back and for one horrible second, I witnessed him kissing her back.
I turned away, feeling like I wanted to die and I caught Pete’s eye. From the expre
ssion on his face, he had seen it too.
I walked up to him, slamming my empty bottle on the bar in front of him and without a word, I’m putting on my jacket and bolting down the stairs back to street level. I didn’t bother texting Dee or the others. I just had to get out of there.
The security guard looked at me with a raised eyebrow as I pushed the door open with a violent jab and I could only grimace and walk away as fast as I could without running. I ignored the little voice in the back of my head that was telling me, I told you so, and put my head down and stared at the footpath as I fled. This was what I was trying to avoid. This feeling of abandonment. Uselessness. Trash. I couldn't help but feel like I had been thrown away again. I clutched my arm against my stomach and an image of blood flashed through my mind. This felt worse than a broken arm.
My phone started to ring in my pocket and I ignored it. I just kept walking and walking, trying to block out the stabbing pain in my chest. My phone rung again as soon as it stopped and I let it go, but it did it a third time and I pulled it out of my pocket and saw that it was Dee. Pete would have told him. I wonder if Will still had his tongue down Mish’s throat and I resisted the urge to throw myself into oncoming traffic. Then I realised I was standing on the footbridge that spanned the Yarra River, water running swiftly below me, the lights of the city overhead. I’m the only one on it at this hour, so I leant over the edge and thought about hurling my phone into the cesspool below. It rung again and I almost did, but this time I saw that it was Will. And I fucking hated him.
After everything, why would he do that? After the things he said... I didn't care who she was to him, he shouldn't have fallen for it. But, maybe he wanted to and that was a truth too hard to swallow. Now that we were home and the tour was ending, I wasn't good enough.
I stared at my phone, trying to fight tears, my knuckles white around the annoying piece of crap and it stopped. Three missed calls from Dee and one from Will. It started ringing again and I pressed the ignore button and turned it off.
I knew I should be screaming at someone or bawling my eyes out or something, but I just stared blankly at the dark water passing below me and wondered why. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did I always pick the wrong guy? Why, why, why?
I sighed, the effort seeming to burn through my tight throat and I just want to go home. I just want to go home and curl up underneath the blankets and forget I ever came out in the first place. I may have been alone before, but at least I didn't feel like this.
I let my walls down only to have my heart broken again and this time it might be irreparable. How could I come back from this? Even as I thought it, I knew there was no coming back. Not this time.
This time, I'd truly been in love.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Will
The tension between Zoe and I had just lifted when I saw Mish across the bar. I stopped suddenly, anger welling inside me.
"I'll be back in a minute," I said, my eyes fixing on Mish. I knew exactly what she was doing here and I wasn't going to give her a clear shot at Zoe.
When she saw me walking towards her, she smiled, "Will."
"I thought I told you to stay away, Mish."
"Oh, you know me," she laughed. "I never do what I'm told."
I pulled her aside, trying to keep her hidden.
"I'll do whatever you want, Will," she crooned, stepping into me. "Remember how good it was? You and I?" She bit her lip, running her hands up and down my arms.
I shook with annoyance. "Stop it, Mish."
"Remember the sex? Remember how I used to take you in my mouth backstage? Remember?"
That was exactly the kind of thing a guy did remember. I closed my eyes, trying to think of a way to get rid of her, when she pressed into me, her mouth on mine. For a split second my body had a mind of its own and I felt myself kissing her back.
I pushed her away sharply, feeling disgusted. "What the fuck?"
"I had to show you," she said with a smirk and I knew she had seen me with Zoe.
"Fuck, Mish. It's never going to happen. Get that through your head."
She smiled, running a hand down my arm. "I'll see you again."
"Fuck off," I hissed and walked off, leaving her in the corner by herself.
I couldn't believe the fucking gall of that woman. I hoped to god that Zoe hadn't seen that. Looking through the crowd, I couldn't see her at all. I turned around to look over at the bar, but I turned right into Dee's fist. He hit me with such force, I almost fell flat on my back.
"I warned you," he spat as I clutched my face.
"I deserved that," I said wryly as Pete came up behind him, pushing him back.
"Will, what the fuck are you doing?" Pete asked, just as pissed as Dee was.
"She fucking pushed herself on me," I hissed at them.
"Well, what-fucking-ever," Dee said sarcastically. "Zoe fucking saw, douche bag."
"What?" My heart stopped and I could have thrown up then and there.
"She's gone, mate," Pete confirmed.
"Fuck," I cursed, fumbling for my phone.
"Don't," Dee said thinly, taking his phone out and dialing Zoe's number. "No answer." He tried again, and when she didn't answer again, he tried a third time. "Nothing."
I tried her then, and it rang out. I tried again and the call was cut off. "I think she's turned it off."
Dee dialed again. "Voicemail." He looked at me with such fury, I swear he was gunna thump me again. "If something happens to her because of you..."
"Dee," Pete cut in. "Arguing about it won't help anyone. If you want, we'll help you look for her. Just say the word and I'll get the guys."
Dee glared at me, his jaw hard.
"Dee?"
"Yeah," he said to Pete. "I know a few places where she might have gone. If I need your help, I'll call. And you," he looked back at me pointing an accusing finger at my chest, "stay the fuck away from her."
I'd fucked up. This was the mother load. And this time, I might lose Zoe for good. My face throbbed from Dee’s punch and my gut twisted painfully. It was a reality too hard to take.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
ZOE
I woke to someone hammering on my front door. It seemed way to early for that kind of enthusiasm. Rolling over, the clock said that it was 12 noon. The banging was still going on, so I shouted, “Fuck off!” and put a pillow over my head.
“Zoe?” I recognised Dee’s voice, muffled through the material. “C’mon, open up. We’re worried sick about you. Zoe?” He’s thumping again and the dog across the way started to bark.
Crawling out of bed with an enraged growl, I pulled on my dressing gown and opened the front door.
“Thank fuck,” he said, pushing inside and throwing his arms around me.
“Get off me,” I shoved him away and walked back into the kitchen looking for something to take the edge off.
“Zoe, Pete told me about…”
I turned around and glared at him.
“I tried calling you, but you turned your phone off.”
“Duh.”
"We've got the show tonight…"
"Duh, again." Before Dee opened his mouth again, I said, "I know all about it. It will be uncomfortable because I want to punch the fuckwit in the face. I have an obligation to do the show. I'll be there. Don't worry about it."
"Okay."
"Just keep him the fuck away from me."
"Zoe…"
"I don't want to hear it, Dee. Ever. I can't do it again. I'm done. I'm so done."
He strode across the room and pulled me into his familiar arms and despite my pent up rage, I sunk into him.
"Why does this always happen to me?" I asked, trying to fight back the tears I knew would come after Dee's gone. "What did I do?"
"You didn't do anything," he murmured. "You're fuckin' beautiful, you know that, Zoe? I wish I liked you that way then it would be a match made in heaven."
"In your dreams, buddy."
He lau
ghed at my half-hearted attempt at a joke. "Can you imagine our kids? They would be GODS." He pulled me down onto the couch and cradled me against his chest. "If it's any consolation, I thumped him one."
"You punched him?"
"No one hurts you while I'm around, Zo. No one."
Maybe it was childish for me to think it, but I hoped it hurt.
"It's just tonight," he said, voice calm. "Then you never have to see him again if that's what you want."
I nodded, the tears that I'd been trying to hold in since last night began to spill, staining Dee's t-shirt.
"It's okay," he said. "Let it out. Remember last time? Holding it in is bad."
I didn't want to, but I remembered last time. I didn't cry for weeks and when I did, it almost sent me over the edge. The kind of edge that you never come back from. A bottomless pit of nothingness.
So, I cried and cried and Dee stayed with me until it was time to go face the music.
I tried not to think about the gig as Dee and I got out of the taxi. Standing out front of the venue sent sharp stabbing pain through my heart and my hands shook.
"You okay?" Dee asked. "You look paler than usual."
I took deep breath. "It's just tonight."
"Just tonight." He slid a hand into mine and led me down the side street to the stage door. Everyone was already there. Frank, Louie and Sticks were loitering side of stage. Dean, Chris and Simone were hanging out at the merch table setting things up. There was no sign of Pete and Will and I was thankful, for now at least.
Simone caught my eye and offered me a small smile and I nodded.
Going backstage I found a quiet corner and leant against the wall. I could tell myself that I was trying to be strong. Trying to be professional, but I wasn't even fooling myself. I knew the moment I saw Will, I'd break and I'd either cry or fly into a blind rage.
"Zoe," a voice splintered through my thoughts.
Spinning around with a scowl, I saw Pete behind me, his hands jammed into the pockets of his hoodie.
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