Bagging Alice (Standalone) (Babes of Brighton Book 3)

by Laura Barnard

  ‘Amen, sister!’ They all burst out laughing.

  Jesus. I don’t know what to be more surprised about—the fact Tom was right about all of these girls lusting over him, or the fact that he sounds amazing in bed. My past very limited experience has been that the more a guy is a slut, the worse he is in bed. He’s never had to try hard, never had to please a long-term girlfriend. Just pumped and dumped. Gotten on with his life.

  Now I know he’s an orgasm master, well... I can’t help but think of him differently. Maybe with some newfound respect. No, shit, what am I thinking? I must have had too much of that Joker juice. I don’t respect Tom. The guy’s a pig. I decide to order shots instead.

  I’ve just finished downing a second one when I’m approached by a tall slim guy with fair hair. He’s good looking enough. Looks quite wholesome.

  ‘Hi, I’m Charlie’s cousin.’ Of course he is, they all are. ‘How do you know Charlie?’

  ‘Oh, it’s kind of a long story.’ I’m too drunk right now to even start to begin about Jack and Erica being reunited on holiday and it having changed all our lives.

  ‘I’d love to hear it sometime.’ He grins, and I find myself blushing. Drunk Alice has not got game. ‘I’m busy with family tonight, but maybe I could take your number and hear it another time?’

  Oh, bless him. It’s been a while since I’ve been chatted up. I open my mouth, just about to tell him thanks, but no thanks, that I actually live in Brighton, when I spot Tom staring at us both from across the room. His eyes are narrowed, his ears bright red. He seems furious. Why the hell would he be furious with me? I should give this guy my number, show Tom that I’m not the ugly little ducking he thinks I am.

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ I smile, taking his offered phone and putting in my name and number.

  I awkwardly wave, spin on my heel and bring the tray of drinks back over to the table.

  ‘Having fun there, Alice?’ Charlie shouts over the music with a grin.

  I feel myself turning bright red. Tom is glaring at me like I have the devil inside me. What is his fucking problem?

  ‘Who wants to dance?’ Brooke asks, clearly having sensed my awkwardness.

  ‘Yes!’

  We all pile onto the packed dance floor. Everyone is drunk enough now to shake their arses without feeling self-conscious. I’m dancing across from Brooke when I feel arms on my hips. I look at Brooke with wide eyes, praying for help from whoever is daring to touch me. She just grins and dances away from me.

  I tense.

  ‘Sssh,’ they whisper in my ear. ‘It’s just me.’ It’s Tom’s voice.

  Tom has his hands on my waist and is dancing against me.

  ‘It’s just a dance, Ice Queen.’

  I can’t help it, I dance. Blame it on the Joker juice, or maybe the sexual tension that earlier I was sure was just plain tension, but before I know it, I’m pushing my arse back ever-so-slightly and grinding against him.

  He places his head on my shoulder, with a pleasant view of my barely there cleavage. He’s wasted too which helps me reassure myself that this is just a dance. It doesn’t mean anything, and I won’t be embarrassed tomorrow.

  His hands wrap all the way around my waist. God, it feels good. It must be because I haven’t been touched in a while. That and I’m desperate for an orgasm that I now know Tom could give me.

  The song changes, and just as fast as he was here, he’s gone, his weight no longer pressing against me. I turn to ask him what’s up but freeze when I see him dancing exactly the same way with one of his fan club.

  My heart sinks. I’m such a dickhead. Thinking for even a drunken moment that Tom ‘Manwhore’ Maddens might actually fancy me. Might actually be interested in more than a warm vagina to park his dick for the night.

  I’m such a twat, and I can’t help but feel completely humiliated in front of everyone. Even though everyone is pretty wasted and doesn’t seem to have noticed, just knowing that for a fleeting moment I considered the possibility of me and him makes me feel stupid and dirty. I will never be a Maddens whore.

  Saturday 20th October

  Alice

  I stretch and squint my eyes, feeling the effects of the alcohol. It is true what they say, every year older it gets harder to handle hangovers. I focus my eyes and nearly jump out of my skin to see Brooke staring at me.

  ‘Jesus, Brooke. Shit the life out of me, why don’t you?’

  She giggles. ‘Sorry, but I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.’

  ‘Why, what’s up?’ God, I need a coffee. Or six.

  She rolls her eyes as if I should already be clued up on what she wants to talk about.

  ‘I want to find out what’s happening with Tom, of course. I saw how furious he was when you were being chatted up by Charlie’s cousin.’

  I sigh. ‘Yeah, well he wasn’t that bothered.’

  ‘He looked it when he was grinding his dick into you.’ She cackles, her really dirty cackle.

  ‘Well, then you obviously missed him doing the exact same to nearly every girl in the room afterwards.’

  She nods. ‘Yeah, he is a total slag. But I just wanted to tell you that I get it.’

  I look over her face for further explanation. ‘Sorry, get what?’

  ‘What it feels like to be into him. Knowing you’re into a fuck boy and not being able to help it anyway.’

  I sigh and roll away from her. It’s too early for this shit. ‘Fuck off, Brooke. I already put up with enough teasing from the others. I am not into Tom!’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ she laughs, rolling me back to her. ‘All I’m saying is that it makes you no less of a confident, intelligent woman to fall for his charms.’

  ‘Really?’ I ask sarcastically. ‘So that’s why I felt like the biggest twat in the world for just letting him dance with me?’

  ‘I knew you were gonna feel like this. Don’t take it personally; this is just the game that Tom plays.’

  ‘Yeah, well I don’t want to play it. I’m not interested in him, or any man for that matter. I just want to focus on my career right now.’

  She smiles, as if unconvinced. ‘You keep telling yourself that, hun.’

  Brooke’s gone back with Molly and Evelyn. Erica and Jack stayed at his parents’ house and are waiting with me by the hotel for Tom to pick us up. Thankfully, neither of them brings anything up. I think we’re all too hungover, sipping from our coffee cups in harmonious silence. I’m looking forward to sleeping on the way back.

  Tom’s car rounds the corner and pulls up. It’s only when he’s getting out that I notice a woman is getting out of the passenger side too. It’s the skank from last night, who’s still in her party clothes with smudged mascara under her eyes. I cannot believe him. He literally cannot keep his dick in his pants.

  ‘See you later, handsome,’ she sings from a mouth full of smudged lipstick.

  He smacks her arse. ‘Later, sweet cheeks.’

  It doesn’t help that he looks gorgeous. All freshly showered with still damp hair and smelling amazing. Ugh, I must still be drunk.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ I mutter under my breath as I get into the back seat.

  ‘I know I am, baby,’ he says as he chucks my case into the boot.

  I hate that he heard me.

  I pull my scarf up over my ears, lean against the window, and pray for sleep.

  Tom

  I’m just getting our bags out of the boot after arriving back at Brighton when Jack pulls me to one side.

  ‘Tom, I need a word.’

  ‘Ohhkay,’ I say with a grin. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I need to know what’s going on with Alice?’

  I scoff. ‘Mate, I just fucked Crystal last night. Fuck all is going on with Alice.’

  He raises his eyebrows in that way he does when he knows I’m bullshitting. ‘Tom, I saw you last night. First at how fucking jealous you were when Charlie’s cousin was chatting her up, and then when you were dancing with her. If you can call it dancing. Jesus, Tom,
it was a family party and there you were grinding into her like we were in the middle of a club.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘It was just a dance. No big deal.’

  ‘Maybe not to you, Tom. But I know Alice better than you. Hell, I know women better than you.’

  ‘Sure you do, bud,’ I interrupt sarcastically.

  ‘And believe me when I say that you can’t fuck with them like this. Leading them on one minute and then going off to fuck Crystal the next. You’re playing a dangerous game.’

  ‘Oh, chill out, Jack.’ He can be such a woman sometimes.

  ‘No,’ he snaps. ‘I won’t chill out. If you end up sleeping with Alice and then treating her like shit, it’s going to fuck up the whole group dynamic.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘You’re being dramatic.’

  ‘Am I?’ he sneers. ‘Because I can’t see how Erica’s going to let me be friends with you when you’ve broken her best friend’s heart.’

  ‘Did you just say let you be friends with me? Fuck, Jack, you’re whipped.’

  ‘No, Tom, I’m in love. And I won’t let anything get in the way of that, especially not you. This is a warning.’

  ‘Hey, if I want to go after Alice I will.’

  ‘Fine,’ he barks. ‘But if you do, know that she wants a relationship. She’s not like you. Only do it if you want one too, or you’re fucking with her before you even start. I mean it, Tom.’

  He turns and storms off. Well, someone started their period this morning.

  Alice

  I managed to ignore Tom all the way home by pretending to be asleep. I then went straight to my room and straight to sleep for a good few hours. When I woke up, he’d gone out. I decided I was going to try to clear the air. Or better yet, pretend nothing ever happened. So, I’ve made us a vegetable casserole that smells amazing.

  I’m just editing Tom’s photos on my laptop—which Brooke is chasing me for—when I hear him come in. He’s a noisy fucker at the best of times (I blame his size) but tonight I hear a strange sort of scuttling coming from the hallway. I’m just carrying the vegetable casserole from the kitchen over to the table when suddenly a puppy rounds the corner. What the fuck?

  Before I can register why the hell it’s in my apartment it jumps up at me. I back away, not wanting its claws to mark my bare legs, but in doing so manage to trip over it. How the hell did it get back underneath my legs again? I try my hardest to remain upright, but I fall backwards, the casserole pot flying from my arms.

  ‘Shiiiiiit!’ I shriek, landing flat on my back, hot sauce splashing me on the face. I’m lucky the dish didn’t smash on me.

  I wipe my eyes clean with the back of my hand, so I can open my eyes. Thank God, it wasn’t hot enough to scald me. When I do open them, I see Tom leaning over me holding a Jack Russell in his arms.

  ‘So, you met Pickles then?’ he asks with a shit-eating grin.

  I glare back at him, every muscle in my body quivering with rage. ‘What the fuck is going on?’

  He reaches out his hand for me to take. The dog tries to spring free from the other one.

  ‘Aargh! Keep that dog away from me,’ I shriek, crawling backwards away from him. I’ve never liked dogs. They’re so unpredictable.

  He rolls his eyes. ‘Not that dog. Our dog.’

  I reluctantly take his hand and help him take me to standing. I look around to see that the casserole dish is smashed on the floor and the dog is struggling to get out of Tom’s arms to lick it up. Ew.

  ‘Tom, don’t fuck with me right now. I just spent the best part of forty-five minutes cooking that and now you’re talking a load of nonsense.’

  He passes me a tea towel, so I can clean my face. Turns out I had a lot more on there than I thought. This is going to take ages to wash out of my hair.

  He rests himself against the back of the sofa. ‘Okay, I’ll talk slowly. This is our new puppy, Pickles.’

  I wipe myself down as best I can, knowing I’ll have to just throw myself in the shower.

  ‘You bought a puppy?’ Even my voice sounds like it’s given up.

  ‘Yes,’ he nods with raised eyebrows as if I’m slow. ‘For us. I’ve called him Pickles.’

  There’s so much wrong with that, I really don’t know where to start.

  I sigh, sitting down on the chair. ‘Okay, first of all you bought a puppy without consulting me? And second, you decided to call him fucking Pickles?’

  He smiles down at the dog as if it’s the greatest thing in the world. It stares up back at him in wonder.

  ‘Yes. I was just down the pub for a quick pint and there was a guy in there selling him.’

  I frown, a migraine coming on. ‘Sorry, you bought a puppy from a random fucking guy in the pub? He’s probably from one of those awful puppy farms. Don’t get too attached, he’ll probably be dead within the week. Full of disease.’

  He covers the puppy’s ears, as if he can understand me. Soppy bastard.

  He smiles sadly at Pickles. ‘I couldn’t just leave him there. The guy looked homeless. He wasn’t safe with him.’

  ‘So, you decided to bring him here?’ I ask incredulously. I really can’t believe this guy. How has he got so far without a brain?

  ‘Yeah,’ he shrugs. ‘I’ve always wanted a dog, but my parents always said no.’

  ‘Because they have sense!’ I shout, making Pickles cower under Tom’s arm. ‘Did you honestly think I’d be cool with this?’

  ‘Yes!’ He stares back at me as if I’m a monster. ‘What couldn’t you love about a dog? The walks, the cuddles, the companionship? There are literally no downsides.’

  ‘Err, the dog shit, the drooling, the barking, the being tied to the house?’ I say, counting it out on my fingers. ‘I can think of quite a few, and that’s only off the top of my head.’

  He rolls his eyes. ‘Jesus, you’re so negative. You need some puppy love.’ He pushes the puppy into my face. It looks at me with his head turned to the left. It is kind of cute.

  ‘Well, make the most of it tonight, because I’m taking it back tomorrow.’

  He flinches, taking the puppy back under his arm. ‘You can’t! He’s our baby.’

  What’s with this our thing?

  ‘He’s a bloody dog and he shouldn’t be living in a flat. Take him somewhere else in the morning, Tom. I mean it.’

  He plonks the dog down on my chest, forcing me to scramble to hold him. ‘Fine, but you have to be the one to tell him.’

  I wake at two am to crying. What the hell is that? It’s so high-pitched, it can’t be Tom. Ah, that’s when I remember the puppy. Can a thing that small seriously make that much noise? I stumble out of bed, open my door and follow the sound into Tom’s room. I go in unannounced, presumably looking like death, to find Pickles on the bed with Tom who’s in a right mess. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink—his hair in disarray, and his eyes heavy.

  ‘What the hell is wrong with him?’ I shriek to a sleepy Tom.

  ‘God knows.’ He yawns. ‘Since you’ve gone to bed, he won’t stop crying.’

  I pick him up. ‘What the hell is wrong with you, Pickles?’

  He starts licking my face. God, he’s annoying.

  ‘He’s quietened down since you’ve arrived.’

  ‘Well, unfortunately I can’t sleep in here.’ I look at his exhausted eyes and can’t help but feel bad for him. ‘Look, I’ll take him for the next hour or so. Let you get some sleep.’

  ‘Oh my god, thank you!’ he says, so grateful. ‘I could kiss you.’

  No need to make it awkward, Tom.

  I take him into my room. The minute I’m away from Tom, he starts whining again. Ugh. I place him on my chest, so he can hear my heartbeat, hoping it’ll soothe him. It does to a certain extent, but he keeps glancing forlornly at the door with a whimper. He misses Tom? He’s literally only just come away from him.

  I manage to snooze lightly when I’m suddenly woken by Tom. He shakes my shoulder softly.

  ‘Hey, Alice.’ />
  I open my eyes, the puppy still on my chest, but now with his tail whipping me in the face and him whimpering again. I spit out the dog’s hairs that have made their way into my mouth.

  ‘I think he just wants to be with both of us.’

  ‘Ugh, then get in,’ I growl. Anything is worth a try at this point. I’m so fucking tired.

  He peels back the cover and gets in. Pickles circles himself around at the end of the bed before collapsing silently.

  ‘He’s asleep,’ he whispers in shock and awe. ‘Shall I risk sneaking out?’

  ‘Just stay there,’ I snap, completely exhausted. It’s just easier. ‘If you wake him again I’ll fucking murder you.’

  Sunday 21st October

  Alice

  I wake up to Tom’s face squished in my neck. How the hell he managed to fit his entire mush in there I don’t know. Plus, he’s snoring. I push him away from me. He snorts but doesn’t wake. It’s funny how he looks almost angelic when he’s unconscious. His skin is still tanned as if he just walked off Luna Island beach. I wonder if he does more than sunbeds. Maybe fake tan. I’ll have to raid his room when he’s out.

  I look down at Pickles. He’s still at the bottom of the bed but stirs slightly when he notices me. He stretches his little body out, yawning. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. He forces himself up and walks on over to me, almost collapsing at every dip in the duvet.

  ‘Morning, Pickles,’ I whisper, so as not to wake Tom. I don’t know what time it is, but his alarm hasn’t gone off yet. It’s loud and obnoxious so I can normally hear it from here.

  Pickles starts licking my face, but in doing so his little tail whips against Tom’s cheek. He wakes up, immediately greeted by Pickles’ arse and screams.

  Pickles yelps and jumps off the bed, running towards the door.

  ‘Way to scare the puppy,’ I snort.

  He looks at me, as if completely mystified that he’s in the same bed as me. ‘Huh?’