Jake knocks on the door.
‘Nicole, there’s a bloke here for you.’
This is it. I stand up, adjust my dress (it must have worked its way up around my waist when I was playing with my chair) and head towards the door. Emily follows close behind me.
There he is, and even hotter than I remember, standing there in his suit. He must have come straight from work. He greets me with a kiss on the cheek and I introduce him to everyone. The look on Vicky’s face has made my life, she’s totally jealous and she can’t even hide it. Despite it being my choice not to date the conventional way, she’s always teasing me, saying I can’t get a man. Usually I’m not this smug, but I just can’t help it when it comes to Vicky.
‘I actually came to show you this,’ he tells me, rummaging around in his bag. He pulls out the issue of Bacci magazine with Dylan’s wedding feature on the cover. It doesn’t hit the shops until Monday.
‘Oh my God,’ I exclaim, carefully taking the magazine from him and delicately flicking through the pages. The photographs are amazing and I’m in quite a few of them which delights me.
‘Wow, look, there you are again,’ Emily points out.
Vicky leans over. ‘You can hardly tell it’s her in that one, it’s so small.’
‘Give it a rest, Vic,’ I hear a male voice say. I have to look to double-check that it is actually Jake who said this, because he’s usually so laid-back and never confronts anyone. Vicky folds her arms in a strop and sits back at her desk while the rest of us chat about the wedding.
‘Well, I’d better make a move, you’ve got a gig to get to,’ Charles eventually says.
‘I have a plus one, you’re welcome to come with me.’
‘Are you sure?’ he asks with a huge smile on his face.
‘Of course. I just need to pop home and change.’
I head back into my office and shut my computer down. I’m so nervous I feel sick, but I just can’t stop smiling. I certainly don’t feel bored or lonely now.
Chapter Thirty-One
The Record
‘Nice place,’ Charles says as we walk through the door of my flat.
I was so bored last night I actually tidied up the place a bit – I’m glad I did.
‘Can I get you anything?’ I ask.
‘I’m fine, thank you.’
‘Well make yourself at home,’ I gesture towards the sofa. ‘I’ll just get changed.’
He sits down and I rush into my bedroom. I can’t actually believe he’s here. He’s travelled all this way just to see me, I can’t get my head around it.
I fling open my wardrobes and gaze across everything I own. I feel under extra pressure to look amazing now. My original plan was to show Luke what he’s missing, but now I really need to dress to impress. Grabbing my black boots, I decide to work my way up. Black tights next, and then an AC/DC T-shirt that’s just about long enough to pass off as a dress. I finish the look with my biker jacket, countless accessories and a ton of black eye make-up and red lipstick. I backcomb my hair a little and I’m good to go – not only has this got to be a new record, but for once I don’t think I am going to be late.
Grabbing my phone and bag, I stroll causally into the living room.
‘Wow. You look great,’ Charles tells me.
‘So do you.’
While I was getting ready Charles has changed too. He’s going to leave his bag at mine to save taking it to the gig. He’s wearing jeans and a tight-fitting T-shirt. He grabs a jacket not unlike mine.
‘Shall we go then?’ he smiles.
I gesture towards the door but, instead of passing me, Charles takes hold of my hand.
‘Let’s go.’
Chapter Thirty-Two
The Clash of the Titans
We’re standing outside the venue as the security guy looks down the list for my name. Charles is still holding my hand – he hasn’t let it go since we left the flat, not for a second. We chatted all the way here; it’s nice when you meet someone who the conversation just flows with.
‘Nicole Wilde, plus one. In you go,’ the burly guard says as he ticks my name off the list. We finally stop holding hands when it’s time to get them stamped on the way in and I’m way too nervous to initiate contact again so we walk in side by side.
It’s really busy here but we eyeball a space at the bar and push our way through. As Charles orders our drinks, I scan the room for familiar faces, but I fail to spot anyone.
‘A Screwdriver for the lady,’ Charles says, handing me the vodka and orange I asked for. For some reason it makes me cringe a little.
Charles is just sipping his pint when his phone starts ringing.
‘I have to take this, I’m really sorry. Back in a moment,’ he says, kissing me on the cheek and disappearing outside.
I scan the room again. I know TFTR are a bit too famous to hang around in the venue beforehand now, but this is my turf and I usually see someone I know.
I’m suddenly feeling really nervous. Maybe it was a bad idea bringing Charles here. Should I really be trying to make Luke jealous? I don’t want to piss him off by rubbing his nose it in.
I throw my drink back and lean over the bar to get the barman’s attention.
‘Another please,’ I say when he finally makes his way over to me. ‘And with a straw, please.’
As I sip my drink, I feel a familiar pair of hands on my hips. I’d know that pervy yet sweet touch anywhere. I put down my drink, turn around and there is Luke.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ he says, taking hold of my hands and kissing me on both cheeks. He keeps hold of my hands and looks into my eyes and I feel all tingly and my heart is pounding in my chest – a feeling I only ever experience around him.
He gestures towards the pint on the bar behind me. ‘Well I know that isn’t yours because you hate beer,’ he laughs.
I’ve gone from feeling lovesick to actually sick. I pray that Charles doesn’t come back in and I consider making an excuse to leave. Maybe Emily is right, maybe Luke does know how to play me, but it’s the look in his eyes. He looks so pleased to see me and I feel like a huge bitch. I open my mouth, hoping a believable reason to leave will come out, but I am stopped in my tracks by the return of Charles. Oh shit.
‘Hey,’ Charles says bluntly. I notice him give Luke a funny look as he puts his arm around me, tearing my hands from Luke’s. I feel absolutely terrible, I need to remember to tell Emily what a terrible idea this was. She is usually spot on with her advice.
‘Well, I’d better go set up,’ Luke tells us, but I know he’s lying. I hate myself for making him feel so uncomfortable. I almost hate Charles for making things even worse, although I guess this is my fault. I just want to go back to being friends, instead I think we’re going to fall out. Luke doesn’t wait for a reply, he just walks away.
‘Who was that, then?’ Charles asks, with a slightly aggressive tone to his voice.
I hesitate for five seconds. Five seconds too long.
‘That’s Luke, he’s the drummer in the band we’re here to see.’
‘I know that, Nicole. I work in music PR,’ he says angrily. ‘He was holding your hands.’
‘Yeah, we’re old friends,’ I reply defensively.
‘Old friends, like you and Dylan?’
I know exactly what he’s getting at.
‘I have to go to the bathroom, back in a minute.’
I walk off towards the toilets. I know exactly where that conversation was going and I really don’t need it right now. I feel terrible enough, I don’t need some guy I hardly know giving me a hard time.
Barging my way through the doors, I make my way down the lonely corridor towards the toilets. I have an overwhelming urge to cry (don’t I always these days?), but I don’t – if only because I’m aware of exactly how much eye make-up I’m wearing.
As I get to the end of the corridor, the Mens’ door opens and out walks Luke.
‘Hey,’ I blurt out, over-enthusiastically.
‘Hey. So who’s that dick?’ he asks, and I laugh.
‘That’s Charles.’
‘Right. You seeing him then?’
This is all so high school.
‘Sort of.’
‘Right.’
This is weird. He looks genuinely upset. I’d go as far as to say heartbroken if I didn’t know him so well.
‘Well I hope he realises what a fucking lucky guy he is.’
‘I don’t get you, Luke,’ I tell him, unable to handle any more game-playing. ‘You keep making these comments that seem so sweet, and then acting like a bit of an arsehole. Just put me straight, please.’
‘What do you want me to say, Nicole?’
‘Why is he a lucky guy?’ I ask, hoping for an honest answer.
He stares at me for a moment, thinking over my question.
‘Because...’ his expression changes from sincere to smug, ‘…I was hoping you could bunk up with me tonight. But I guess you’ll be in his bed instead.’ He winks at me before walking away.
Unbelievable. Just when I think I am seeing a softer side to that man, he turns around and shows me that he only has a hard side – literally.
Inside the toilets I stare at myself in the mirror, pleading with my eyes not to let any tears out. I’d better get back out to Charles, I’ll bet he was only trying to protect me. He knows the music industry, he knows musicians. He could probably tell what Luke was after the second he laid eyes on him. I’m really lucky he was here tonight or I probably would have ended up with Luke.
Peering through the door, I check that the coast is clear and head back into the gig. The first band has just come on stage. Walking over to Charles, I link my arm with his.
‘Let’s forget about that,’ I tell him, but he gives me a puzzled look and I realise he can’t hear me because of the music. I lean closer to him.
‘I said, let’s forget about all that. He’s just a friend, I promise you.’
‘Don’t worry,’ he smiles, and rests a hand gently on my cheek. Then he leans closer and kisses me on the lips. Neither of us says anything after this, we just watch the band.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Brush-Off
After the gig, I introduced Charles to Mark and Ben, and we all chatted for a while. I’m just waiting for the gang of girls to disperse from around Eddie and Luke. It was weird seeing Eddie on stage with his broken leg, mainly because he never usually stands still on stage.
As soon as Eddie and Luke are alone, we walk towards them. They’re looking right at us and talking, and I can’t help but wonder if they’re talking about me.
‘Eddie, you are a real trooper,’ I tell him.
‘I try. Got to keep the fans happy.’
I introduce him to Charles. I don’t introduce Luke, it seems weird.
‘So what’s happening tonight?’ I ask. ‘Are you guys partying here, or are we going somewhere else?’
It is a TFTR tradition that after every gig, we party. In fact, that’s the reason they’re called Two For The Road, they’re total party animals.
‘We’re just going to head back to the bus tonight. Probably drive through the night,’ Luke replies.
‘Really?’ I ask, astonished.
‘Eddie’s leg is giving him shit, isn’t it, mate?’ Luke nudges Eddie, who dutifully replies.
‘Yeah, my doctor told me not to push myself, so...’ his voice trails off.
‘Oh, OK.’ I don’t really know what to say.
‘We’re actually going to head off now, so we’ll see you next time,’ Luke tells me, walking off without so much as a goodbye.
I look at Eddie for some sort of explanation.
‘Well you’ll have to come here and hug me, I’m an injured man.’
Forcing a smile, I lean towards him and wrap my arms around his neck.
‘He’s upset, he’ll get over it,’ he whispers in my ear.
‘Go put your feet up, see you soon hopefully,’ I tell him, and I really hope I do see him soon, but I doubt I will. This is the end of the road for me.
‘Shall we get out of here then?’ I ask Charles, and he nods.
Once we’re outside, we start walking back in the direction of my flat.
‘They were lying about calling it a night you know,’ I tell him, unable to disguise my disappointment.
‘I know, I guessed as much. It’s their loss, darling.’
I sigh.
We walk the rest of the way in silence. I can’t believe Luke has ruined this evening for me, whether he meant to or not. Of course, I ignore the little voice in my head telling me that it’s all my fault.
We stop outside my flat.
‘Well, I’ll pop up and grab my bag and then head to my hotel.’
‘Where are you staying?’ I ask.
He laughs awkwardly as we get in the lift.
‘What? Where are you staying?’
‘I haven’t actually booked in anywhere,’ Charles admits. ‘I was sort of hoping I could stay with you tonight.’
I look at him surprised, and he gives me a cheeky smile.
‘What? We’ve already shared a bed twice, don’t look so surprised.’
Stepping out of the lift, we walk towards my door and I mess around with my keys for a moment.
‘I had a great time tonight, despite your angry male fan club,’ he tells me, running the back of his hand gently up and down my back.
‘So did I,’ I reply, finally getting my key inside the lock. Charles is leaning on the wall in a cool, don’t-give-a-shit manner as I turn to face him.
‘You can stay here tonight if you want to,’ I tell him as he moves his face much closer to mine.
‘Really?’ he whispers.
‘Well, I owe you for putting me up in London. So yes.’
Before I have chance to change my mind, Charles kisses me passionately. After a few minutes of kissing in the hallway, he picks me up, fireman-style, before unlocking my door and carrying me inside. The door closes behind us and we’re in total darkness, apart from a little light shining in through the windows.
‘Where’s the light switch?’ he laughs.
‘Over there.’
‘You do realise I can’t see where “over there” is, don’t you?’
I laugh, unable to offer any assistance slung over his shoulder.
‘Forget it, bedroom is this way,’ he says, carefully walking through the dark living room which, once again, I am so thankful that I tidied.
As Charles carries me through the bedroom door, he loses his footing. Luckily we are next to my bed and both land on it in a heap.
This feels weird – good weird though. I’m in my own bed, I’m sober and Charles...well he’s just Charles. A really nice guy that I met and not some person from some band. We start kissing again and it makes me realise something. Normal guys are good at this stuff too.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The Shrine
This morning I woke up next to Charles for the third time, and while it was a lot less frightening than the first time, it was no less special than the second. The difference this morning is that we didn’t just sleep together, we slept together.
I’m still in bed, but Charles went for a shower not so long ago. If I’m being honest, I did get up at 7 a.m. and put on a bit of make-up (just in case I looked terrible) before creeping back to bed and waiting for him to wake up and see what a natural beauty I am.
He might have travelled two hundred miles to see me, but it was only a flying visit and Charles is booked on a train back to London which leaves in a couple of hours. Yes, it’s Saturday morning, but he has some big event tonight that he has to attend. I wish he didn’t have to go, especially after last night got off to a bit of a bumpy start. It ended a bit bumpy too, although for a much better reason.
I need to get out of bed and get some clothes on, having promised I’d walk Charles to the train station (via Starbucks of course), but I just don’t want to get up. The sooner I get up, the s
ooner we’ll leave and the sooner we leave, the sooner I have to say goodbye.
Rolling over, I grab my phone from next to my bed. My hand slips and my phone falls on the floor, bouncing on the carpet a couple of times. Too lazy to get up, I dangle my upper body off the side of my bed and reach out to grab it. I hold my position and glance at my phone screen. Thankfully my phone is still working despite taking a tumble yet again – but the even bigger surprise is that the message is from Dylan.
‘Thanks for everything last weekend. We’ll speak soon, I promise.’
I cannot believe that this is the only contact I have had with Dylan since the wedding and I can’t help but wonder if this has anything to do with Crystal.
At this point Charles walks back into the room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and a smile on his face.
‘You all right there?’ he asks, laughing at me.
‘Oh I’m fine, just dropped my phone. I had a text from Dylan, first one since the wedding.’
‘Speaking of Dylan...’ he gestures at my walls and I can only presume he’s referring to my posters. I wait for him to say it though. ‘You have posters on your wall – how old are you?’ he asks, mocking me slightly.
‘Twenty-five-year-olds can’t put posters up?’
‘I suppose they can... You’ve got quite the range of gentlemen up here. Robert Pattinson?!’
‘I want him to bite me,’ I reply rather matter-of-factly.
‘Adam Lambert?’
‘Have you heard him sing? Amazing.’
‘There’s one over there still rolled up, what’s that one?’
‘One Direction – for research,’ I insist.
‘And then we have Dylan. Why do you have Dylan on your wall?’
‘I don’t, I have The Burnouts on my wall. The whole band.’
Is that weird? Can’t I be a friend and a fan? And why is he picking on me for having the bedroom of a teenage girl? Fluffy cushions, fairy-lights, swoonsome men all over the walls – maybe I’m trying to make up for my teen years, I didn’t exactly have the teen dream bedroom then, it was more of a gothic dungeon. Forget R-Patz and Glambert, I had the likes of Marilyn Manson and Slipknot gracing my walls.
How Not to Be Starstruck Page 14