Access Restricted (The Access Series)

by Severin, Alice

  I stared at the back of his head, his dark hair tangled, the whiteness of his scalp visible in places where the roots threw his hair up in different directions. All the things that went on in there. I wondered if it was hard for him, being an object, a pretty screen to project a million and one fantasies onto, few of them ever taking him in as a person. His words from last night came back to me—“stopping at my eyes.” It had never occurred to me not to do it. His words, like his music, could make me cry. There was something like intelligent magic in what he did that ignored all the pretenses and broke through.

  I watched his back rise and fall with his calm breathing for a while, then slipped out of bed as quietly as I could to use the bathroom. I didn’t want to wake them up either. Nick and Sarah, no matter how nice they had been, would be awake soon enough with more questions. My head hurt, and I didn’t feel like talking, or explaining. I managed to get downstairs and in the bathroom without hitting too many of the creaky wide wood floor boards. I drank some water from the tap and splashed my face, taking a bit of toothpaste to run around my mouth. When I turned off the water, I heard nothing. But when I opened the door, there was Nick, smiling at me, dressed in only a t-shirt and boxers. I jumped, but he raised a finger to his lips, smiling. “We always were the early risers, weren’t we?” I nodded, reluctantly. He carried on. “Do you want a cup of tea?” I really didn’t want to talk, but my head was on fire.

  “Yeah, that’d be great. Have you got any aspirin?”

  “Oh you Yanks and your aspirin. Hurting from last night? You looked like you’d been hitting it when we met up.” His face was lit up, teasing. Just the tone of his voice was making it worse.

  I grimaced. “No, look, never mind, I’m just going to crawl back up to bed. I’ll come down later.” I shook my head and started to move towards the stairs, towards sanctuary, but Nick reached out and stopped me.

  “Hey no, don’t go. I won’t tease. There’s some paracetamol in the bathroom, hang on, I’ll get it.” He stepped into the bathroom and opened the cupboard, more pine, I thought, it’s everywhere, so domestic, and opened a bottle of max strength, placing two into my hand. “There you go.”

  “Thanks Nick, you guys have been great.”

  “Yeah yeah, no problem. It’s not every day you find out your ex is shagging one of the most desirable, in demand rock stars in the world.”

  I smiled, shrugging. There was nothing to say.

  Nick carried on. “He’s really got you under his thumb, doesn’t he? All that stuff with the green tea last night. Looking after you, or controlling you, Lily? Which is it?”

  I bristled, and damped down the “oh go fuck yourself” I so wanted to launch at him. My tone was flat. “Thanks for caring, Nick. Glad to know you’re still looking out for me as well. Now I’m going to lie down for bit, and kill this headache, and Sarah is probably awake and listening to you, wondering how long you’re going to be out here showing off your boxers.” I smiled, mask like. “We’ll talk later, right?” And I turned and walked up the stairs, without really waiting for his answer. I really didn’t need his concern right now. They weren’t going to be ok with all this, were they? And I thought of something I’d read a while ago about someone who had become famous, and his old friends had claimed he had changed, and was a prima donna, when apparently all he had wanted to do was hang out with them like they always had, just be friends. He hadn’t changed so much, as they had, in relation to his new status. And he had to stop seeing them mostly, because all their interactions were either snarky comments or requests, for tickets, contacts, stuff, money. I’d never really seen that from this side. I did know that you needed fucking nerves of steel to get anywhere and leave the circle you started in, I knew that, but now I was beginning to feel how much that might cost.

  Oh my head, I thought, as a sharp pain cut through it. I blinked. Not going to think. Hurts. I tiptoed into the bedroom, and grabbed the water bottle, and threw down both tablets, and drank. I had a sudden moment of panic. Suppose they weren’t what he said they were? Ridiculous paranoia. And angrily I pushed it aside, annoyed with myself for giving in to irrational fears and went to shake out the clothes. It looked like they were going to do double duty today. Or was I going to have to swing by the hotel? We needed to figure out the sleeping arrangements, because I had the feeling our stay here was a one night illusion.

  I crawled back into bed, glad I’d run toothpaste around my mouth, and was careful not to touch him with my cold hands. I breathed in. He smelled warm, like sleep and skin and sex. Delicious. I closed my eyes, and tried to will my headache away, thinking calm open Zen thoughts.

  I must have fallen back to sleep, because the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes again, hearing movement, and a low voice, and looked over to see Tristan, shirtless, wearing dark jeans hanging on his hips, talking on his cell phone. I sat up, and he waved at me, smiling. He spoke a little louder now, nodding to me and pointing to the clothes on the floor and the phone. I looked at him quizzically, and he held up one long finger, and carried on talking. “Yes. That would be great. Anywhere, really, I was hoping to do this low key, but I think it has to be somewhere that knows how to keep their mouth shut. What about that one near Notting Hill? That’s private. The designer one, whatever her name is. Anoosh something. Yes. Right. Sound them out. And Rick? Don’t tell James. I’ll explain later. Ok. And check her out. I don’t want her going back down there. Message from Dave? Yeah, well give him a message. Say, I like my privacy. End of. Good. Ok. Let me know when it’s done. And two cars. I’ll text you the exact address. Somewhere in West Hampstead. Really? Ok. It seemed like fucking miles last night, I’ll tell you. I thought we were driving back to the States. Ok Rick. Let me know.” And with that he clicked off, and strode over to me. “Hello sleepy head.” He sat on the bed and put his arm around me. I leaned my head on his bare shoulder, instantly feeling better and warmer. “Hurting much? I know there were extenuating circumstances last night, but love, you really shouldn’t drink so much, you know?”

  I smiled to hear that word, said so casually, like it was every day. I liked it. “I know. Believe me, I know. Just slipped a bit.” I put my arms around him. “I felt like I wasn’t visible, you know? That interview…” I stopped. I didn’t want to go there.

  He kissed my head. “Yeah, but it’s different now.” He turned my head to stare at me. “You know that, right? Our games aren’t so…um, game-y anymore, you know? Serious play.” I looked at him, confusion obviously evident on my face. “Lily. Pay attention. I don’t do this. This is not what fuck and run looks like. Trust me on that one.” And his smile broke out, a dazzling grin that made him look like a cross between a kid with an ice cream cone and a pin-up.

  I couldn’t help it, I grinned back at him. “Yeah. True dat.”

  “Word!” he flashed back. We both started laughing. The whole thing suddenly seemed so ridiculous, like we starring in some bad B movie drama. He kissed my ear. “You’re a lot of fun, Lily, when your brain isn’t smoking.”

  I giggled. “Pot, meet kettle.” And I threw my arms around him and hugged him. He squeezed me.

  “Ah it’s a fair cop, I’ll go quietly. Be gentle with me.” He ran his teeth over my neck and I hissed.

  “You don’t play fair,” I said.

  “Why should I, Lily? Why should I?” He carried on biting at my skin, tiny bites that he’d then flick his tongue at, until I felt like if he didn’t fuck me, I’d die. I didn’t know what I was doing until his voice cut through my dazed state.

  “Oh Lily, don’t make that sound. I wasn’t going to do this, not here.”

  I murmured incoherently into his shoulder, as his fingers found their way under the sheets. “Tristan, Tris…” His hand opened me up, and I clung on to him. “How do you…?”

  “Shh, don’t talk. You’re going to come, very quietly, and very hard on my hand, and then I’m going to fuck you, very hard and very fast,” Tristan spoke into me, his mouth over mine, his warm
lips touching mine as he spoke. His fingers moved faster, in me, on me, and I was wet, falling apart as his fingers teased me, wet and sliding deep inside me. “That’s it love. Let it go. Show me you want me.” And his words pushed me over, as I thrust against his hand, biting down on his shoulder to stop from crying out as he pushed against me, then suddenly pulled his fingers out. He put them in his mouth and his long tongue licked off the wet, as his other hand unbuttoned his jeans, and they dropped to the floor. No underwear, was the last coherent thought I had, as he flipped the duvet on to the floor, and was on top of me at lightning speed, his cock finding me and sliding inside in one slick motion, I was so wet. Still shaking, I clutched onto him, wanting to feel him. But he was fucking me with abandon, holding my arms over my head, his eyes tightly closed, his hips angling into mine with fury. I shut my eyes. Nothing, ever, like this, ever, fuck, my ideas disintegrating under his body. I suddenly started coming again, and I tried to fight it, but it was too late. All I could do was wrap my legs around him, pulling him in closer as I writhed around his body.

  “Fuck, love, now, now,” he cried out, “mine, fucking mine.” And he slammed against me, his warmth flooding me, so much I could feel it coming out between my legs. He collapsed on me for a moment, then moved slightly, his forehead against mine. We both lay there, semi-conscious, our breathing heavy and deep, somewhere else, not here.

  After a few minutes, I tried to roll us over, as his large frame was becoming heavy. Tristan noticed, and pulled out of me, slowly, carefully, and lay on his back, breathing. He pulled me to him and held me tightly. “Lily. Love. It shouldn’t mean so much but it does. The way you are.”

  I just held him, tighter, just wanting to feel his warmth, his skin, sweat, breath on my skin.

  He whispered in my ear, “I didn’t really think, but I wanted to…feel you. Is it ok? I’m good, I promise.”

  I whispered back. “It’s ok. At least I think so. I liked it. You. Your… But we can talk about it later, yeah?”

  “Anything, love, anything.” He kissed me, and suddenly we were friends too. “Don’t worry, though, yeah?”

  I smiled over his mouth. “I don’t think I’ll ever worry again, after that.”

  He spanked me, and grinned at my howl. “So bad. That’ll give your friends something to think about.” He rubbed his hands over my ass. “There there. All better.” He kissed me again, and rolled me over. “Come on doll, there’s a city out there we need to take care of. World domination awaits us. And our limos.” He laughed, and his face was joyful, impish. I’d never seen him like this. He pulled at the sheet, and wiped himself off, and me, then gestured to me to get up, as he tugged at the bed and took off both sheets, rolling them into a ball. “The perfect guest. No need to leave behind DNA traces, anyway,” he smirked. Then he handed me my clothes, as he shrugged on his jeans, over his naked body. “Good thing they expect rock stars to be unwashed creatures of the night. It all works out.”

  I put on my clothes from the night before and ran a hand through my tangled hair.

  “You look beautiful, Lily,” he said. “No thinking. Enjoy their stares. Remember yesterday? They need it too.” And he scooped up the bed linen, and took my hand. “Come, let’s go meet our hosts. And Lily?”

  “Tristan?” It felt different somehow, saying his name. I couldn’t figure out why.

  “Don’t be surprised if your friends seem weird. It happens, you know? People don’t always handle it all well. The way you didn’t think about it, because it seemed natural to you, well, it might not to them. Just smile and get through it. They’ll either come around or they won’t.”

  I didn’t tell him about meeting Nick earlier that morning. I just nodded, knowing what he meant already.

  We went all the way down to the kitchen, and Tristan calmly stuffed the sheets in the washing machine. Nick and Sarah were sitting in the garden, in the milky London morning sunshine, drinking tea. I walked out through the open door and waved to them, glancing behind me. Tristan was already back on the phone.

  “Hey Sarah, Nick. Good morning. How’d you sleep?” I called out, ignoring them looking me up and down and around me to Tristan, in the kitchen.

  “Very well,” said Sarah pointedly. “The question is, how did you sleep?”

  “Beautifully,” I answered. “A little hungover, but nothing unusual there. A very comfortable bed and room, Sarah. Thank you so much for letting us crash here.”

  Sarah looked at me. “Of course, Lily. We’ve got history.” She paused. “Do you two want some tea? I guess you only drink green tea now. You probably don’t eat regular breakfast food either, right? Macrobiotic sushi? Baby food diets?”

  Tristan stuck his head out the door. “Good morning all. Could you tell me the exact address of your lovely home?”

  Sarah looked at him, eyes widening as she took in his long legs and tousled mop of hair. He smiled at her, one of his smiles, and she stepped back a bit. She came to quickly though, and rushed to the kitchen like it was on fire. “I’ll write it down for you so you can have it.” She turned to me. “The two of you must come back. We’ll do a barbeque out here, it’ll be lovely.” She skipped up to Tristan, who stepped back from the door just as it seemed she was going to launch herself at him. She put her hand on his arm. “Come, let me find some paper.”

  Tristan looked over her head to me and nodded. “I’ll call you right back,” he said down the phone, winked at me quickly, and turned to follow her. I could hear her strangely high pitched voice talking animatedly to him. She’s really nervous, I thought. Well I can understand that.

  Nick had been sitting there the whole time, drinking his tea. He picked up a piece of toast from the blue floral plate. “Want some toast Lily? Always used to work for you for hangovers.”

  “Yeah, I guess it did. No thanks. I don’t eat bread so much in the morning anymore, though, thanks,” I replied.

  “How’s the head?”

  “Better.” I tried to be light. “Thank god. Thanks for the pills earlier.”

  “No problem. So, big day today?”

  “Yeah, interviewing Trevor—you know, the head of Working Class Records. All about the beginning of Devised. Should be interesting.”

  “He’s still going? What a dinosaur.” Nick laughed. “It’s funny to see people sticking to the music even when they’re all grown up.” He looked up at me. “Of course it’s a living, right? Give the punters what they want.”

  I looked back at him, about to argue, when Tristan’s words came to mind. I took a deep breath. “No, it’s not a job for everyone, or just anyone, should I say.”

  Nick chewed his toast, and I looked around at the well-tended garden. I could hear a plane flying overhead, birds tweeting in the trees.

  “You’ve done a good job with the garden. Pretty selection of flowers.”

  Nick sighed. “It’s all Sarah, she loves it. Makes me watch those garden shows where they redo someone’s hideous back garden and turn it into some showpiece.”

  “Nice.” I said. “Plants are, I guess, very, therapeutic. And it’s a lovely space back here.”

  Nick put down his toast. “Lily, I’ve got to ask you. What are you doing with him? He’s not serious. You’re not a groupie. What’s going on?”

  I met his eyes. “Serious? I guess impending marriage means you’re an expert.”

  Nick grimaced. “Maybe I am Lily. I’ve changed. There comes a time when you have to grow up, or it looks stupid. Maybe you need to think about that.” He shook his head. “Look, it’s just we’re worried about you.”

  “Sarah seems quite concerned with me at the moment.” Her voice was still trilling out to us from the kitchen. I knew Tristan could handle it, but I still felt for him. It sounded like he was getting the full on treatment. “I’m sorry you think I look stupid, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Nick jerked his head up. “That’s not what I meant. And you know it. It’s just, none of us are getting any younger. It matters m
ore for women, you know. I just don’t want to see you on your own. Freddy still talks about you. He’s doing very well, just started working full time as a consultant, cut ties with the fund after the crisis. Raking it in. Thinking about settling down. You should call him. I’ll give him your number, actually. We could all meet up.”

  I thought of Tristan and his warning. This was a weird variation on the theme. “Does he? How nice. Well tell him hello from me. I might have some time this weekend.”

  “It’s the best way, and you know it, Lily. Tristan? Devised? Come on, Lily, you’re out of your league here, and you know that, too.” Nick was frowning at me as he lectured. It all came back to me then, the nights we had spent together, while he told me that my ideas were too far out, that my job was going nowhere, that my pen portraits were too abstract, that my writing didn’t follow the rules, that my lifestyle was not ideal. Yeah, it was all there. His pronouncements. My uncertainty. And how I’d sat there, and taken it.

  Well no more.

  “Nick, I know you think you’re helping. It’s ok. Really.” I turned towards the kitchen to find Tristan. I needed to leave, now. Nick called out, but I didn’t turn around.

  I found Tristan and Sarah sitting at the table, while she showed him designs for her wedding dress. “Of course you have to come! Lily is coming, you can be her date! What do you think of this dress? I like the shape of it, it will show off my neck and shoulders, and cleavage!” She thrust forward. “The bride has to have cleavage.”