by Vicky Owen
She peers at my mouth and a smile forms on her lips. ‘Your tongue is blue!’ She pauses then leans forward slightly. ‘Bubblegum? I can smell bubblegum.’
‘Maybe a few,’ I admit.
‘A few bubblegum?’
‘Drinks,’ I clarify. ‘The blue ones taste like bubblegum.’
‘Ah.’ She takes another gulp—enough to finish the drink—and looks up slightly at me, her almost-black eyes framed by a heavy fringe.
‘Maybe you’re the one who’s tipsy,’ she says.
Maybe. Harry made them fucking potent. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘No?’ She tilts her head back and hair falls back over her shoulders, exposing the curve of her chest above her dress.
This isn’t fair.
She steps forward slightly, pressing her body against mine, looking me dead in the eyes.
‘I see the way you look at me, Luc.’
‘How many of those have you had?’ I try to deflect. Her confidence is hot and unnerving at the same time. She’s doing things to me that no woman has done for a long time.
She looks at the empty cup in her hand and shrugs. ‘Just this one.’
I take the cup out of her hand. ‘Strawberry? I should have known.’
‘I didn’t choose it.’
‘Oh yeah? Who did?’
‘Harry.’
I raise an eyebrow. ‘Do you always accept drinks from random men?’
‘It’s Harry!’ she pushes against me. Annoyed with my teasing.
I laugh. ‘OK, OK.’ I hold up the cup with one hand, keeping the other around her waist. ‘Want to try some of the bubblegum?’
‘Yes.’
‘Hmm.’ I look at the empty cup, then at her, and reconsider for a moment. ‘It’s pretty strong, mind. Are you sure you can handle it?’ I ask, raising an eyebrow.
‘I can handle it,’ she says, putting a hand on her hip. ‘Just like I can handle you, Lucas Drummer Boy Stupid Face.’
I consider her for a moment and shake my head, smiling. I sigh. ‘OK. Wait here.’ I let my hand brush her midsection as I walk away, heading for the kitchen.
One hour to midnight, and the house is teeming with people. Harry always insists on some big party. How the fuck does he even know all of these people, anyway?
Maybe one of them gave him that ridiculous clock for the countdown.
Someone dark-haired and brooding exits the kitchen, bumping into me as I approach.
‘Sorry, mate,’ he says, patting my arm.
I look at him. ‘Geth, it’s me.’
Gethin looks at me for a moment. ‘Fuck, sorry Luc. In my own world.’ He looks back towards the kitchen and steps slightly in front of me, blocking my path. ‘You don’t want to go in there,’ he says in a low, foreboding tone.
I glance beyond him, towards the kitchen, and give him a quizzical look. ‘What? Why not?’
‘Someone left the front door unlocked,’ he says, raising his eyebrows.
I laugh, still having no idea what he’s getting at. ‘And?’
Gethin sighs. ‘It’s Hayley.’
For a second I’m confused. Unable to connect the two thoughts: door unlocked and Hayley.
And then I hear her voice.
‘But you always invite me!’ It’s coming from the kitchen.
I cringe. Surely she wasn’t always this shrill?
Gethin looks at me pointedly. ‘Don’t go in there. Just leave it.’ He looks around the room. ‘Is Lexi here?’
I open my mouth to answer but Harry’s voice cuts in, also from the kitchen. ‘Because you were Luc’s girlfriend.’
I look at Gethin. ‘I can’t let him deal with it.’
He sighs, then steps aside, holding his hands up. ‘Your circus.’
‘Fucking thanks,’ I mutter, pushing past.
Hayley sees me before I see her. ‘Luc! Harry’s being a fucking dick, as always. Tell him.’
They never did get on.
‘Just get the fuck out of my house,’ Harry responds, glaring at her.
Hayley walks in my direction and immediately tries to put her arms around me. Unlike last time, I’m prepared. I block her before she can wrap herself around my waist. ‘You have to leave,’ I say, holding her arms gently but firmly away from me.
‘But—’
‘Hayley!’ I’ve had enough. I’ve tried to be kind, but it’s not fucking working. ‘We’re not together any more. For fuck’s sake!’
Her eyes light up, incensed. ‘But we said—’
‘You said. And you were wrong. We’re not getting back together.’ As I speak the words, I see hurt in her eyes for the first time. And it almost stops me.
Hayley puts one hand on her hip, fury returning to her eyes. ‘Is she here?’
Almost.
‘You know what? I don’t want to see you ever again. Just fucking leave.’
Hayley hesitates, not sure what to say. Harry’s sniggering doesn’t help matters.
‘I’m not leaving without my friends,’ she finally says.
‘You have friends?’ Harry looks incredulous.
She shoots him a contemptuous look. Then her eyes are back on me. ‘This isn’t over.’
‘Yeah it is,’ I say without hesitation, turning away from her to find the drinks I came in for. I want to get back to Lexi ASAP before Hayley’s swarm of wasps can find her.
‘Well, c’mon then,’ Harry says, ushering Hayley out of the kitchen. I wait a few moments, wondering how it came to this. Once I’m sure the coast is clear, knowing Harry won’t let Hayley anywhere near Lexi, I leave with the drinks.
So glad I left her on the far side of the room.
I can’t even see her initially, and for a moment I feel uneasy. What if someone got to her before me?
Then someone I don’t recognise shifts to the side and there she is.
Talking to some guy.
Oh, my mistake. Two guys.
She works fast. And this is definitely not part of the deal.
I can hear her laughing as I approach. A lower, sexier laugh than that tinkly laugh Hayley seems to have adopted lately. Just the thought of it angers me.
I take a deep breath.
‘Hey!’ Lexi smiles at me as I approach. I hand her one of the bright blue drinks in my hand and eye the two guys suspiciously. In my peripheral vision, I see them exchange a look. I pull her close to me, protectively. Possessively. Her body willingly responds and she leans into me. It feels good.
‘Luc, this is Mylo and Dan,’ she says, nodding at them in turn. ‘Guys, this is Luc.’
‘And how do you all know each other?’ I say.
‘I live with Lexi and Cerys,’ one of them—Mylo—responds.
I narrow my eyes and look at her. She never mentioned this. Did she?
Lexi looks at me blankly for a second before catching my expression. She bursts into laughter. ‘Nothing like that!’ she says, shoving me playfully.
Does Jake know Cerys lives with this guy?
‘Like what?’ I ask, trying to play dumb. Knowing I’ve already failed at maintaining any kind of nonchalant façade.
‘Mylo’s gay, you jackass. Dan’s his boyfriend.’
Now it’s my turn to look confused.
And all three of them are laughing at me.
‘Oh,’ I say, running my hand through my hair, looking down. Doing a Lexi. ‘Sorry about that.’ God, what a fucking idiot.
‘Lexi, I think he was jealous for a second there,’ Dan says, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
Lexi looks up at me. I give her a don’t-you-fucking-dare look. But of course, she does anyway. ‘I think you’re right, Dan.’ She tilts her head. ‘Luc, were you jealous?’ she teases, walking her fingertips delicately up my chest, towards my face, spilling some of her drink in the process.
‘Fuck off,’ I say, batting her hand away while gripping her tighter, conflicted about the effect she’s having on me.
‘Think we’ll leave you two alone,’ Mylo says, gri
nning and raising an eyebrow at Lexi.
As we watch them leave, Lexi takes a sip of her drink. ‘Ooh!’
‘Good, right?’ I say, turning to face her. Still holding her. Keeping the distance between us minimal.
She nods, already with a pale purple tinge to her lips.
‘So you were jealous?’ she says, grinning, not letting it go. Definitely a bit drunk now.
I down my drink and take hers off her, putting both cups on the nearest table. So my hands are free. So I can match her level of intoxication. So I can hold her fully.
I walk her gently backwards, until she’s up against the wall. She bites down on her bottom lip, visibly enjoying this display of dominance from me.
‘Well,’ I say in a low voice, my face close to hers, ‘you are meant to be my girlfriend, after all.’
‘Only pretend,’ she says back.
I let my fingers trace a line over her torso, from the side of her waist to the front of her midsection, where I can feel her belly button through the black dress that’s hiding her body. Her breathing changes slightly and her eyes flick up, her gaze meeting mine.
‘Maybe,’ I say slowly, letting my finger drift upwards, almost grazing the outline of her breasts as they strain against the thin fabric. Her breathing quickens. I let go and touch her chin instead, tilting her face up towards mine.
So close.
‘Maybe,’ I repeat, ‘I’m just a better actor than you.’
She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, never breaking eye contact. ‘Are you acting now?’ she says, her voice barely audible above the music.
‘No.’
And everything fades away around us. The music. The gazillion other people. And I know I shouldn’t have said that. But fuck it. I want her.
Maybe I am jealous. And it’s going to complicate everything. I’m losing control.
And I don’t even fucking care.
I have to have her.
So I close the gap between us, sliding my fingers around the back of her head. Letting my fingers intertwine with the hair at the nape of her neck.
And I kiss Lexi.
TWENTY-TWO
Lexi
LUC’S LIPS ARE soft but his kiss is hard. Hungry. Possessive, even.
I melt completely into it. Into him. Lifting my arms to his shoulders. And I dare to reach up behind his head and run my hands into his thick, dirty blond hair.
His hands, his lips, his scent, his taste. They all meld into one lust-filled haze.
The alcohol is the only thing allowing me to focus on him instead of turning into an over-analytical mess.
He tastes like bubblegum. Or maybe that’s just me.
I push into him. Leaning into him. Giving myself to him.
Please don’t stop. This isn’t enough. More. I need more.
Instead, Luc pulls back. Slowly, and only a little, but enough to end the kiss.
Too soon.
Crap. Was I too needy?
My heart has turned into a mass of butterflies, wings beating in unison.
He looks at me—at my lips.
They feel swollen. Like every sensation is visible for the world to see. For a moment I think—hope—he’s going to press his mouth against mine again.
Instead he smiles, leaning his forehead gently against mine, exhaling slowly.
‘Alexis,’ he says, making eye contact with me. My name in his voice never gets old. It makes me unsteady.
‘I hate that.’
‘Your name?’
‘No. That I like it when you say it.’
As I feel my face reddening at my own confession, his smile widens into a grin. ‘Then I’m definitely never going to stop saying it.’
We stay like this, for a few seconds. So close, and yet not kissing.
Then he interlocks one of his hands with mine. ‘Come with me,’ he says, nodding towards the opposite side of the room. To the stairs.
I let him lead us through the throng of people. Some of them are watching us now.
And something’s happening to the far left of us. High-pitched screeching. I look over, but the crowd is dense and the music loud.
I tug on Luc’s hand. ‘Wait.’
He stops and becomes momentarily distracted by whatever is happening across the room. He frowns at the commotion, just for a second, then looks at me.
‘What about the countdown?’ I ask. It can’t be long until midnight now, and I’m here for him to be seen with me.
Luc doesn’t even hesitate. ‘Fuck the countdown.’ He turns back towards the stairs. Still holding my hand.
‘But don’t you want to see in the new year?’ I call out to him over the music.
He looks back again. ‘I’d rather just be with you.’ His eyes say it’s more than that. So when he turns around this time, I let myself follow.
We climb the stairs, leaving the party behind, the music fading to a thrumming bassline beneath our feet. I follow Luc into one of the rooms. There’s a huge bed and a TV mounted on the wall.
‘Is this Harry’s room?’ I ask, looking around for more clues. It is Harry’s house, after all.
Luc laughs. ‘No, he’s got the master bedroom. This is my room.’
‘Your room?’
‘Yeah. Just temporary.’
‘Oh.’
We look at each other and I wait for him to initiate something. It’s awkward, neither of us knowing where to go next.
‘Take off your shoes,’ he says simply, after a moment.
I carefully step out of my heels, dropping a few inches as I do so. He kicks off his own shoes and walks over to me, now noticeably taller. It’s not every day a man can make me feel short.
‘Pipsqueak,’ he teases me, fingering the seam along the side of my dress.
‘I’m tall!’ I protest, annoyed he’s not just kissing me some more. That’s the whole reason we came up here, I thought.
I give him half a minute.
Half a minute to initiate something.
Half a minute until I decide I’m tired of waiting.
Half a minute until I try my luck.
Half a fucking minute.
And then I reach for the bottom edge of his t-shirt and hesitantly pull it upwards, waiting for his response. For him to stop me.
When he doesn’t, I pull it off, over his head, and toss it on the floor.
And, yeah, he’s perfect.
Luc looks down and smiles—almost shyly—as I reach out and dare to run my hands over his chest, down to his abs. ‘How can you eat cheeseburgers and drink those awful banana milkshakes and look like this?’ I ask.
He shrugs. ‘I work out.’
‘Work out?’ I crinkle my nose. The closest I ever come to exercising is walking.
‘And I’m a drummer,’ he reminds me.
I haven’t taken my hands off him, and I allow one hand to slide up to his shoulders, to his neck, then down his arm, feeling his toned muscularity beneath my fingers. It feels powerful, and like I’m doing something I really, really shouldn’t be doing.
Luc does nothing to stop me. Instead, he steps closer, reaching around behind me and deftly unzipping my dress. I do nothing to stop him, allowing it to fall to the ground and land around my feet.
He steps back again, to see me better. So exposed, despite the underwear. I do my best to hold my nerve and not cringe as his gaze skims my body.
‘Lexi,’ he sighs, ‘you’re so fucking hot.’
I look down, not knowing how else to react to such a huge, scary compliment.
‘Hey,’ he says softly, tilting my chin up with his fingers, ‘it’s true.’
I look back at him. Into his eyes.
Please just kiss me again, I beg silently.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he takes a deep breath.
‘We shouldn’t,’ he says. ‘Not like this.’
‘Shouldn’t what?’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Fuck.’
I frown, angry. ‘Well why did
you bring me up here, then? Why did you kiss me? Why this?’ I indicate to my dress on the floor. This is humiliating.
‘I think we should wait until we’re both sober.’
‘I’m not drunk!’ Even as I say it, I know it’s not entirely true. I’m definitely tipsy.
Luc doesn’t respond beyond a knowing look.
‘Fine. So we just get dressed and go downstairs again?’ I say. This has been a complete waste of time.
‘No. Stay the night.’ He indicates towards the bed.
I look at the bed. ‘I haven’t got anything to sleep in,’ I say plainly.
‘So sleep naked,’ he grins before unbuttoning his jeans and letting them fall to the floor, revealing muscular thighs and a definite hard-on beneath his shorts.
I raise an eyebrow and give him a pointed look. ‘And you say you don’t want to fuck me tonight?’
‘Of course I do.’ He pulls me towards him, his hands finally making contact with my bare flesh, his lips finally meeting mine again.
His body against mine feels a thousand times better than it does when we’re clothed. His kisses are harder this time, more aggressive. His hands slightly rougher, gripping my hair and back.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders and the back of his neck, wanting more than he’s willing to give me tonight.
As his tongue teases mine, I’m vaguely aware of his fingers unclasping my bra and gently pulling it free so there’s one less barrier between us. He groans slightly as I push myself harder against him. I know it’s childish, but I want to punish him for not just giving me what I want tonight.
‘Fuck,’ he finally says, pulling back and taking a gulp of air. ‘I do want you. Now. But no. One more night.’
I sigh, frustrated. ‘So you can change your mind?’
‘No.’ He looks at me, serious now. ‘Because it’ll be better when we’re both fully sober.’ He takes my hand and leads me to the bed. ‘Unless you’d rather we forget it entirely?’
‘Fuck off!’ I say, getting in the bed. ‘But my panties stay on unless we’re actually going to have sex.’
He laughs and gets in next to me, pulling me down and closer to him.
‘I thought we had to be just friends, or whatever it was you said in the park,’ I say.
He runs his thumb along my cheekbone. He’s close enough to kiss me. ‘You can leave if you want.’
I shove him. ‘This isn’t fair. All this teasing.’