Never Forget Him
Never Forget #1
Tracy Lorraine
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Never Forget Us
Never Forget Us
Acknowledgments
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About the Author
Also by Tracy Lorraine
Andy and Amelia
Prologue
“Once upon a time there was a handsome soldier. He was strong and brave, and whisked the princess off her feet.
“The solider was a hero, fighting all the bad guys and giving people their lives back.
“He was more than that, though. He wasn’t just the brave soldier, he was thoughtful and caring, funny, and a little bit of an idiot.” I smile to myself as memories start playing out in my mind of his slightly wonky smile when he was winding me up, and the infectious sound of his laugh.
“One day, I’m going to be just like Daddy. I’m going be big and brave and rescue people,” Denny says sleepily.
I stay where I am, sat on the edge of his bed, and watch as he loses the fight against sleep. Denny looks just like him. Most days I find it comforting, but there are times, like right now, after he’s made me recite his nightly story, that it’s painful. The memories of him threaten to rip me apart.
I gently sweep his hair from his forehead once I know he’s fast asleep. “You already do that, baby boy. You rescue me every day,” I whisper as I take one last look at his gorgeous, peaceful face.
Chapter One
Five Years Ago…
“Erin, come on, at least look a little excited about this. It’s your twentieth birthday, for fuck’s sake,” Frankie, my best friend, complains when I sit on her bed, looking less than enthusiastic about our night out.
“I’m good, Ki. I am looking forward to it,” I lie. “It’s just I’m—”
“Worried about your mum.” Her words come out softer, showing she does understand. They still make me feel guilty, maybe I’m being a little too self-involved.
“I’m sorry. I’m going to forget all that and we’re going to have an amazing night,” I announce, summoning up as much excitement as I can muster.
Frankie is the ultimate party girl. She loves nothing more than spending all weekend either getting ready to go out, or being out and getting very drunk. That whole scene isn’t really me; I much prefer to spend my Saturday night at home, in my den, working, but I don’t have a chance in hell of getting away without going tonight, seeing as it’s my birthday.
“Here, get this down your neck. It’ll help chill you the fuck out,” she says, thrusting a glass of vodka Red Bull at me.
“Haven’t you got anything else?”
“Nope, suck it up. We’re gonna get ourselves nice and drunk before heading out. Seeing as we’re two weeks away from our next loan payments coming in, I’m fucking skint. We don’t all have a cushy job like you,” she says before necking her drink in one go. I, on the other hand, sip at the vile liquid before putting it down behind me. If I never taste vodka Red Bull again I’d be happy. “Although,” she adds, with a wiggle of her eyebrows, “a little birdie told me there’re some hot soldiers in town tonight. Maybe they’ll buy us some drinks.”
I can’t help but groan at her mention of soldiers. Frankie makes no secret of her desire to bed a hot army guy. She has some obsession with being the one to make a soldier’s leave the best he’s ever had, to let him use her to blow off steam before sending him packing to wherever it is he’s based with some amazing memories and no intention of ever seeing him again.
“Oh, don’t give me that, E. You know you’d want it if you had the chance.”
I don’t respond other than to lift my eyebrow at her. She knows exactly what I’d say, anyway. My dad was in the army and I watched what it did to Mum every time he left to go on tour. I vividly remember the day she answered the door and collapsed to the ground wailing before the men the other side had even spoken. From as early as I can remember, I’ve said I’d never touch a man in the army. Dad broke my mum—totally shattered her. I never want to experience anything like that. Ever.
“Anyway, what do you think?” Frankie asks as she holds a small piece of silver glitzy fabric in front of her.
“I think it looks about the right size to be a dishcloth, Ki.”
“I don’t know why I bother,” she complains, throwing the dress on the bed.
Frankie and I are complete opposites. She’s tall, I’m short. She’s blonde, I’m some boring shade of brown—to say brunette would probably make it sound too good. She’s outgoing and adventurous, and I’m shy and reserved. Our choice of clothing is also at different ends of the scale. Frankie follows fashion and must be seen wearing what the celebs are. I, on the other hand, love the 1950’s look, so when I’m not in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt you can find me in something like the high-waist pencil skirt, white shirt, thick red belt with matching court shoes I’m about to change into. It’s not exactly a look most of our fellow students rock on a night out, but it’s what I love, so I go with it. I wouldn’t be seen dead in the tiny scraps of fabric Frankie steps out of her flat in.
“Who told you that, anyway?”
“Lisa rang me this afternoon from a bar in town. Apparently, they came in all boisterous and sexy and offered to buy her and Tara a drink. Once they found out their plans for the night, they excused themselves to ring me. I can’t fucking wait, E. Soldiers! Actual soldiers!”
“Yay,” I say, feigning excitement.
Frankie throws her lip gloss at me. “If you’re not excited for yourself then at least be excited for me,” she says, before stripping off her robe and reaching for her dress.
“Ready?” she asks excitedly as she finishes off the drink I abandoned some time ago.
I take one last look at myself in the mirror and run my hand down the fabric of my skirt. My hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail with my fringe swept to the side and pinned behind my ear. My eyes are lined perfectly and my lips are fire engine red thanks to Frankie’s skills—I could never achieve this look on my own. I may be good with my hands but it doesn’t seem to translate to putting make up on.
“I guess,” I mutter as I grab my bag.
Frankie ignores my less than enthusiastic response and takes my hand to pull me through her flat to the awaiting taxi. She can barely sit still during the short ride to the city centre, and I hate to admit it, but her excitement is a little infectious. This may not be my kind of thing, but seeing my best friend this happy does make me feel better about everything.
“We’re here,” Frankie exclaims, throwing money onto the passenger seat and practically bouncing from the taxi.
I thank the driver and get out in a slightly more composed manner. I wasn’t paying much attention to where we were going, but I groan when I see which club we’ve just pulled up outside.
“Smoke? Really?”
“Yes. This is where Lisa and Tara said the soldiers were heading.”
I’m not a fan of nightclubs in general, but I have a particular hatred of Smoke and Frankie knows it, which is probably why she didn’t tell me.
“We’re meant to be out celebrating my birthday. Shouldn’t I have the final say?” I ask, refusing to move from the curb.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Frankie says, thinking about more than her sexy soldiers for a second. “Where do you want to go?”
I desperately want to say home, but I know that isn’t going to go down well. I also
don’t know if it’s actually the truth. The place I love being isn’t the same now I’m watching Mum fight this losing battle with her business. I think where I want to be is anywhere but here. I don’t want to be stood outside this club I hate, and for the first time ever, I don’t want to be in Bristol. I need to get away from it all, from the stress and the pressure. Being in uni should be pressure enough, but that’s not even half of it. Even my love of jewellery making has been tainted by it.
Frankie stands in front of me. I can see how torn she now is about tonight. She’s a good friend, and I know that if I were to say I didn’t want to go in there, she wouldn’t. As much as she wants those soldiers, I know she’d choose me over them. I’m just not sure I can do it to her.
“It’s fine, let’s go.”
“Really?” she asks, all hopeful.
“Really. But if one sleezeball tries touching me up on the dance floor again, I’m leaving right after kicking him in the bollocks.”
“Fair enough. Just let me know which one it was and I’ll kick him too.”
I reach forward and grab her hand, and then together, we walk towards the end of the queue.
“It’s fucking freezing,” Frankie complains after a couple of minutes waiting in line.
I look over at her in the flimsy bit of fabric she calls a dress and raise my eyebrow.
“Oh sssh,” she sulks.
“ID please,” the bouncer demands when we eventually get to the front.
I can’t lie, even I’m cold now it’s taken us so damn long to get here. Frankie had a text from Tara ages ago to let us know they were inside, but there was no sign of any soldiers yet. That news didn’t help Frankie’s quickly depleting excitement.
“Thank fuck for that,” she grumbles when we begin walking up the stairs. “I swear my tits were about three minutes from freezing the fuck off.”
“Let’s go and get a drink,” I suggest, hoping some more alcohol will put the spring back in her step. For my own sake, I really hope these soldiers are real and actually turn up. I don’t think I’m ever going to hear the end of her disappointment otherwise.
“Oh there they are,” Frankie points to the other end of the bar when we get through the crowd.
We do the usual shouted greeting that always has to happen when in a club; we all nod and smile at each other like we have a clue what the other is talking about, but in reality, the music is so bloody loud I can barely hear my own thoughts, let alone someone talking to me.
When Lisa begins pulling something from her bag, I immediately want to run, but instead I’m forced to smile and look happy about the fact they’ve got me a happy birthday sash and flashing badge.
Brilliant. Now I really will attract unwanted attention. It’s like they don’t know me at all, or more so that they do and they’re all finding this hilarious.
Tara hands me a drink and I stupidly take a sip assuming it’s my usual Malibu and Coke. Huge mistake. “What the fuck is that?” I shout as I try to scrape the taste off my tongue with my teeth.
“Jagerbomb,” Frankie announces proudly as she knocks hers back.
“That’s disgusting, Kiki.” And to think I was under the impression vodka Red Bull was the worst mix of drinks in the world!
“Here,” Lisa says handing me another glass after I shove my previous excuse for a drink at Frankie. I sniff it this time, just in case, but I know I’m safe because I can smell coconut.
“Thank you,” I say, before quickly taking a swig to hopefully remove the lingering aftertaste of the Jagerbomb.
The three of them stand and shout at each other for a few minutes. Every now and then, Tara and Lisa look around, I guess hoping to spot their soldiers. I can see Frankie’s excitement waning as the minutes go by. I told her not to get her hopes up.
When the latest Pitbull song starts pounding through the speakers, Frankie perks up, grabs mine and Lisa’s hands, and pulls us to the dance floor. We end up in the middle of the of the crowd, exactly where I don’t want to be, just as the smoke fills the dance floor, blocking my vision of what people are doing around me.
I stand and dance a little but I’m still relatively sober compared to my friends so I don’t quite get into the flow of it like them. When the smoke begins to lift, all three of them are bumping and grinding away without a care in the world. As I stand and watch, I realise I’m jealous. They are all able to put everything to one side and just enjoy themselves. I need that; I need to forget everything for just a few hours and chill out, but no matter what I do I can feel it all weighing down on my shoulders. Mum’s business isn’t really my problem, but I’m not the kind of person who can just let her deal with it. She’s been my rock my entire life, and now I feel like it’s time for me to return the favour.
I’m smiling at my friends’ antics when I feel the need to look over to the bar. I don’t know what it is but it’s like something’s calling me. When I look over, there’s a guy staring right at me. Thinking I must be wrong, I look over my shoulder expecting to see someone looking back at him, but everyone’s too engrossed in their dancing.
When I glance back, he’s still looking my way. I’m just about to turn when one of his friends put his hand on his shoulder and distracts him.
I continue watching them for a few seconds before I hear Lisa. “Oh my god, they’re here,” she squeals, making Frankie immediately stop dancing and look around.
“Where?”
“Over there, by the bar. That group of lads.”
“The hot ones?”
“Yes. Let’s go.”
I stand back and allow Frankie and Lisa to force their way through the crowd towards the bar. Tara and I follow behind, neither of us sharing their excitement. Tara has a serious long-term boyfriend and only comes out to spend time with us, unlike Frankie and Lisa, whose only reason for coming is to pull.
I watch from a few feet away as Lisa walks directly up to the guy who was just staring in my direction. I’m not going to say staring at me, because that can’t possibly be the case, unless he’s also amused by the girl wearing the bright pink sash and flashing badge. Frankie latches herself onto his friend and leans into his side shamelessly.
Tara and I continue to stand slightly out of the way and just watch as Frankie and Lisa make drunken fools out of themselves.
The four of them stand together talking, or shouting, for a few minutes before I see Frankie look up and point our way. It’s the first time the guy has glanced up since they approached, and when he does, his eyes widen slightly as he looks at me before they drop and run down the length of my body. Tara moves when Frankie gestures for her but I’m frozen to the spot as the guy continues taking me all in. Usually, I hate being ogled by men but there’s something about this one that doesn’t want to make me kick him in the balls for looking at me the way he is.
Frankie scares the shit out of me when I feel her slide her arm through mine and tug me towards the group.
“What the hell is up with you? I know you’re not interested in a soldier, but they won’t bite,” she says, coming to a stop when we’re directly in front of him.
“I…I know,” I stutter when I look up to find him still staring at me. Lisa’s practically dry humping his leg but he doesn’t seem to be noticing it.
“Bax,” one of the guys shouts. “Hey, Bax,” he repeats, until the guy looking at me rips his eyes away.
“What?” he snaps.
“Here,” his mate says, handing him a small glass full of golden liquid.
He nods his chin at him before bringing his gaze back to me, continuing to hold my eyes as he slowly tips the glass up to his lips and drinks it down in one. My eyes break from his as he swallows, distracted by the movement of the muscles in his neck. I continue downward, taking in his grey striped shirt, stretched over his shoulders and chest, before dropping down to his black, almost skinny, jeans. I’m not interested for two reasons:
he’s a soldier, and
I have enough drama in my life righ
t now,
but even I can admit this guy’s hot.
Telling myself those things is all good and well, but I don’t think my body believes a single word of it. My pulse is racing and my palms are sweating from just looking at this guy. When my eyes connect with his again it’s like everything around me fades away and it’s just me and him.
* * *
“OH MY GOD!” Frankie squeals as the four of us walk into the toilets a while later. “Dean’s so fucking hot. I mean, have you seen those arms? What I wouldn’t give to see him in action, all army man,” she says as she fans herself in front of the mirror.
I leave her to it and make use of the toilet. I smile to myself the whole time when she doesn’t even stop for breath talking about him. Lisa is much less enthusiastic because, after getting the cold shoulder from Bax, she moved onto another of his friends, who also doesn’t seem all that interested.
An hour or so later, I leave everyone dancing in favour of getting a glass of water. Frankie and Lisa managed to convince Bax, Dean and their friends to join us all on the dance floor. It’s clear Dean is loving all the attention from Frankie, and Lisa has at last found herself a friend who is interested. Tara and I have kept ourselves to ourselves and danced with each other, but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost Bax’s interest. He still seems way too intrigued for my liking. I could feel his gaze while we were dancing and every time I looked up those dark eyes were on me.
“Thanks, E, I needed that,” Frankie says, taking the glass of cold water from my hands and downing it in one. “Bax totally has the hots for you. You should go for it.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Never Forget Him Page 1