The Final Note
Copyright
The Final Note
Copyright © 2014 Helen J Barnes
First Electronic publication October 2014
eBooks are none transferable. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission.
This work is a book of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not construed as real. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United Kingdom by Helen J Barnes 2014
Dedication
For Wendy, my sister, my PA and the ultimate clubbing partner. I couldn’t write without you, sis. Love you loads xXx
Chapter 1
“Please, Corrine, wait up. I feel like I’m walking on hot coals here!”
I’m not exaggerating, my feet feel like they’re burning because of the torturous lack of blood flow and de-oxygenation. I let my best friend, Corrine, talk me into buying the sky high heels, and as I rightfully predicted, they have damn near deformed my feet. Probably permanently!
Corrine snorts a laugh, turning to face me with a drunken smirk slapped across her gorgeous face, her arm linked through Macy’s. I’m lagging behind them on our way to a house party now that the Manchester nightclubs have closed.
“Take them off, Alannah. We’re nearly there now.” Dina smirks and I snigger.
I’m not being the drunken mess that walks the streets with her shoes in her hand. I know all three of my friends have slated other women for doing exactly that.
“Come on.” Corrine stands before me and sticks her ass into my tummy. “Jump up, I’ll give you a piggy back ride.”
I break into a fit of drunken giggles and playfully slap her perky ass before I step back from her, the consequences of said piggy back ride running through my mind.
“Hell no, your heels are higher than mine, we’ll both be in hospital.” I wipe away tears of mirth. Corrine looks at me, upside down, from between her long, slender legs and points a long polished finger at me.
“You, Alannah Matthews, need to stop whinging and get your arse to Luke’s house. You might even hook up.”
Macy and Dina are winding their way up the row of semidetached houses without us and I know there is no way I’m capable of catching up. Corrine loops her arm through mine and gives me a knowing look.
“Don’t start, Cor. I can’t help it if all the men I meet are egotistical slime.”
I inwardly shudder at the last fitty the girls set me up with. Brad was very pleasing on the eye, blond with a cute smile and a hot body, he was everything I normally look for in a guy’s appearance. But he was a total man whore and I was quickly bored of hearing about his conquests.
“You’ll meet someone worthy of you soon, gorgeous. It’s weird, out of all of us you get the most attention from the opposite sex, yet you’re the one who hooks up the least. When was the last time you got laid?”
Corrine has a great way of throwing out personal comments like that, totally off the bat, without you feeling offended.
“Too long. Anyway, it was nothing to write home about. Sex is totally overrated.” I pout and bump her with my hip. “At least Macy has found her Mr. Right. Ross is my hope that there are some half decent men in the world.”
“Have faith, Alannah. We’ll find our guys, eventually.”
We turn into the garden of a modern, semidetached house. All the lights are blazing, music is blasting out for the whole street to hear and people are milling about on the front lawn. We push our way through up to the front door and a young guy in his early twenties is standing on the threshold. “Drinks are in the kitchen, ladies. Make yourselves at home.”
There is a definite leer to his greeting and the fact that he is looking us up and down with his tongue between his teeth confirms my suspicion. Jerk.
“I’m going to look for Macy and Dina, you go get us drinks and I’ll come find you in a minute,” Corrine instructs before disappearing into the throng of people in the dining room. The air is laden with smoke and the stench of weed; the music is deafening and I realise jerk-boy is still looking me over. I roll my eyes and push my way through to the kitchen at the back of the house.
My feet scream in protest with every step I take and I feel the alcohol induced buzz fade into a tired lull. I know I should just book a taxi and head home to a nice warm bed and prepare for the much deserved hangover I’m going to have to tackle in the morning. I go in search of a drink but it’s more water than cheap and warm cider I have in mind.
The kitchen island is covered in plastic cups, cans and bottles. Shot glasses litter the sides and the place is a mess. I wince again at the shooting pains in the balls of my feet and I lean back against the counter top, that’s when I notice a young couple up against the wall. They’re so wrapped up in each other, hands raking through hair, tongues dancing, hips grinding. I get a stirring deep in the pit of my stomach and I don’t know if they’re grossing me out or whether I’m envious.
They’re totally engrossed in each other, oblivious to everything but one another. He has her pressed up firmly against the wall and he presses his groin into her, provoking loud groans and more eager kisses.
“Get a room.” A deep voice pulls me from my reverie and I look up into a pair of shocking blue eyes, rimmed with thick, dark lashes. I blush because I know I’ve been caught staring. I look down at my crippled feet and turn to the littered countertop, trying to source a drink. I spot an unopened bottle of wine, it’s cheap and fizzy crap but it’s better than cider.
“Bud?” Sexy-blue-eyes asks and I shake my head.
“I don’t smoke,” I reply and I flick a glance over him. He has mucky blond hair that falls onto his forehead with a cow lick quiff that I’m guessing is natural rather than brushed in. His blue eyes dance with amusement and he has a cheeky, lopsided grin that shows perfectly straight pearly white teeth. Check, check, check. This guy is ticking all my boxes and I raise my eyebrows, wondering what’s so funny.
He lifts a brown bottle of lager and repeats himself. “Would you like a bottle of bud?”
Alannah, you damn fool, he was offering you a drink, not drugs!
I roll my eyes and break into a giggle. “I’d love one, thanks.” I gratefully take the bottle of Budweiser from him. Our fingers touch momentarily and I get a warm spark that seems to blitz from the tips of my fingers and shoots up my arm. Our eyes meet and I smile in gratitude.
“Cheers.” I tip my bottle and take a long draw, the alcohol wetting my parched mouth but doing nothing to quench my thirst. I see him watching me intently, yet he seems to be lacking that usual leer that men possess when observing you. He lowers his bottle and I see he is wearing a black shirt worn open over a white t-shirt and black jeans. He has broad, sloped shoulders and biceps that bulge beneath his shirt. Yet he has a slim, trim waist that promises he has a great workout program and a gorgeous physic.
I wobble on my heels and wince, my little toe now given up the fight and died from asphyxiation. I hear a chuckle from sexy-blue-eyes and I turn to see him looking down at my feet. “Why do you ladies torture yourself in shoes like that all the time?” He genuinely wants to know why but I shrug in response.
“I don’t wear shoes like this all the
time. They’re definitely not my daily attire. I promise you, these heels are going in the bin when I get home.”
“Well, until then you look like you could do with a seat. Shall we find somewhere to sit?” He nods his head towards the door but I can’t drag my eyes from his, they’re so entrancing. I simply nod and follow him towards the door which leads to a crowded conservatory. People are lounging on wicker furniture, smoking and laughing loudly. He is greeted by a young woman who he acknowledges before he opens the conservatory door and tips his head for me to follow him.
Okay, so he’s good-looking, gorgeous even, but I’m blaming the uncharacteristic amounts of alcohol in my blood for my lack of caution. I’m following a guy I don’t know out into a darkened garden at an address I couldn’t tell you and I haven’t got a clue where my friends are. Outside, he takes a few steps down onto a lawn and takes a seat at the end of the garden on a child’s swing. I look back, hoping Corrine, Macy or Dina will have the sense to look out here for me before they all leave. I start down the steps onto the lawn and squeeze my eyes closed against the pain. I can’t walk over a lawn in these heels.
Oh, sod it!
I whip the heels off and lower my feet gingerly onto the welcoming cool and damp grass. I sigh in relief, already feeling the blood rush to my strangle toes. I wriggle them and they rejoice at their newfound freedom. The relief must be evident on my face because sexy-blue-eyes laughs as I cross the lawn towards the empty swing next to him. I giggle and put my shoes and purse down beside the swing before trying to lower myself onto the seat with as much feminine grace as I possess.
“Better?” He grins and I nod.
“Much better. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m Dayton Scott,” he says and I notice he has a deep cupid’s bow and a mouth that screams at you to kiss him. He holds his hand out to shake and I take it in mine, feeling that same tingle in my fingers.
“I’m Alannah Matthews.”
“Alannah, that’s a beautiful name, it suits you,” he says more to himself than to me before releasing my hand and I drop it down by my side, running my thumb over my fingertips as the tingles subside. I blush at his words but thank him for the compliment. “What do you do, Alannah?”
I love the way he says my name, and the way his eyes seem to seek out mine when he talks to me. It makes a refreshing change from having a man talk to my tits.
“I’m a student. I’m training to be a legal secretary. I work part time in a sports shop where I live in Salford.”
“You don’t live far from here then? I’m from Eccles. Seems we are local to each other.”
He seems pleased by this and the feeling is more than mutual.
“What about you?” I’d much sooner talk about him, he has definitely peaked my interest and I genuinely want to learn more about him. What a turn up for the books, a guy I want to get to know better. Will wonders never cease?
“I work for my uncles roofing firm, I’m also a DJ and producer. I’m a resident DJ at Lexis Nightclub but play at other gigs, too, when the opportunity arises. I’d like to make music my full time occupation, if I ever get the chance.”
A DJ, wow, I didn’t see that coming. I’ve never laid eyes on a good-looking DJ in my life. He’s too attractive to be a disc jockey. As though he can read my mind he laughs. “Don’t worry, you won’t catch me playing Grease Mega Mix with a medallion hung over a hairy chest.”
I giggle and bat his comment away but secretly I’m pleased to hear it.
“What kind of music do you mix and produce?”
“Hard trance, the kind of stuff you would hear played in the upstairs in Lexis to be honest.”
I watch him take a long drink of his bottle of lager and watch his Adam’s apple dip in his throat, the flex of his strong, straight jaw. Oh God, I’m on the verge of swooning. First mental slap of the night.
“I’ve never been to Lexis,” I admit and his eyebrows disappear into his shaggy blond fringe.
“Really? It’s Manchester’s hottest club, I thought you’d have visited at least once.”
“Oh, don’t let the clubbing attire fool you, it’s not often the girls drag me out with them. This is the first time I’ve made it past closing time and hit a house party. I don’t even know whose house this is, or where my friends have scarpered off to.” I trail off.
“It’s my friend Luke’s house, well, his parents’ house. I’m sure he’ll be looking for a place to crash once they get back from Spain and find vomit on their carpets, cig burns in their leather upholstery and the cat missing.”
We break into a laugh and his eyes meet mine again, humour dancing in them. The atmosphere seems to ping with electricity and for a heartbeat I think he is going to kiss me but he merely leans forward to put his bottle next to the swing. I note the twang of disappointment.
We chat easily for an unknown length of time and I learn he’s twenty-five years old, lives for the nightlife and is well travelled. He’s played all over the UK at various clubs and festivals and even did a stink mixing in Ibiza. He works out at least four times a week (which was kind of a given considering his build). His pet hate is people using their phones when driving and his family moved to Manchester from Norwich when he was just fifteen years old.
I tell him I’m twenty-three years old, I was born and raised in Salford and that I enjoy running and reading. We have long since finished our drinks and I’m still thirsty as hell but I find I don’t want to go back inside. I’m enjoying the privacy of getting to know him out here, alone. Before the thought has had time to leave my mind the conservatory door swings open, letting the booming music out into the relatively peaceful back garden.
“Lana? You out here?” Corrine’s voice booms down the garden and I roll my eyes at Dayton.
“Yeah, Cor, I’m here,” I yell back. “That’s my friend, Corrine.”
We turn and watch her wobble drunkenly over the lawn, her heels sinking into the grass and making her curse. She stands before us and puts her hand on her hip.
“Well, I knew you had gone AWOL but I didn’t stop to think who you’d done a bunk with.” She looks impressed. “Alright, Dayton?”
I blink in surprise, she knows him? Dayton smiles and nods.
“I’m great, thanks, Corrine. Sorry for stealing your friend, we’ve been enjoying the quiet out here. I hope you weren’t fretting, I promise she’s perfectly safe.”
I deflate slightly, hoping that I was in danger of at least getting a snog tonight. I know I’m in danger of developing a pretty bad crush.
“I wasn’t worried, Dayton. I know Alannah is more than capable of looking after herself.” Corrine smiles at me. “The taxi is waiting, babes. Kiss Prince Charming good night and I’ll meet you out front.”
And with that she wobbles off and disappears, Dayton and I watching her receding back. The garden falls into quietness again and I sigh. “I suppose that’s my cue to make an exit.” I smirk and if I’m not mistaken he looks a little crestfallen. “It was nice to meet you, Dayton.”
I get to my feet and collect my shoes and handbag from the foot of the swing, when I stand he is right before me, standing incredibly close and I catch his scent on the warm May breeze. He smells expensive, clean and fresh. His close proximity and scent is intoxicating, his eyes look deep into mine and he takes a deep breath, like he is about to say something but he stops and offers me his hand in silence. I look up at him and take his hand, not saying a word. The same tingles from earlier electrify my hand as he leads me through the house and out into the front garden which is now empty.
Just before we get to the open gate Dayton stops and looks down into my eyes. I wait in anticipation, desperately wanting him to kiss me.
“It was nice to meet you, Alannah. Will you pay a visit to Lexis sometime?”
He lets go of my hand and I nod. “Of course.”
“Soon?” He smiles and I nod again. “Good night.”
“Night, Dayton.” I walk towa
rds the waiting taxi, feeling crestfallen.
Is that it? No offer of a phone number? No kiss good night? I have to stop myself from pouting. When I pull the taxi door closed and look back at the house he has disappeared indoors and I sag against the seat and frown. Well, that was a wash out. I thought maybe we were going to hit it off. I’m sure he was giving me all the right signals and I thought I was, too. Maybe I read it all wrong? Maybe he has a girlfriend?
As the taxi drives off into the breaking dawn I can’t help but feel like I’ve just missed a golden opportunity.
Chapter 2
I wake up to the sound of Mum pottering around in the kitchen. I lift my head to look at the clock and feel the dull ache. 10.30am. I sit up and feel the swirl of liquid in my stomach. Oh, yes, this is a grade A hangover. I rub my gritty eyes, still laden with mascara that I neglected to remove when I crashed at 5am. I head off to the kitchen in search of ice water and painkillers, greeting Mum and accepting a slice of toast which I wolf down before heading for the shower.
Exactly as predicted my brother, Coby, is in the bathroom. I knock on the door and he swings it open, the Lynx laden steam billowing out behind him.
“Morning, Lana,” he shouts loudly, knowing I’m going to be sporting a headache this morning. I give him an unimpressed smirk. Coby is sixteen years old and every inch the brash young teen.
“Funny, Cobe.”
“Hung over, sis?” He laughs, wandering off to his bedroom where he turns his Ministry of Sound CD up on purpose.
In the shower my mind wanders back to last night, specifically Dayton Scott and his sexy blue eyes, cute smile and mucky blond hair. If my memory serves me right, I think I can honestly say he is the hottest guy I’ve laid eyes on in a long time. And more importantly, he was the most easy-going, chivalrous guy I’ve met - ever. Is that why I feel like I need to see him again? Why I feel like I need to dig for more information about him?
The Final Note (DJ Series Book 1) Page 1