The Rocks Duet: Fake Rocks & Real Rocks (a fake relationship rockstar romance)

by Julie Archer

  Something in her tone made me backtrack, and I noticed she was nibbling on her thumbnail. It was rather endearing, showing a vulnerability I hadn’t seen before.

  “Can you sit down for a minute?”

  “Um.” My gaze went to the door, then back to her. “I guess…” I perched on the end of her bed, trying to keep a reasonable distance between us and averting my eyes from the mess of clothes and underwear on the floor. Her room was much like her, colourful and chaotic. I wondered what she thought of Jonas’ idea to paint the room magnolia.

  She appeared to be nervous, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “So, you came in when Jonas and I were talking.”

  “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. What were you talking about? Actually, it’s none of my business, sorry.”

  “Stop apologising.” Saff gave me a small smile. “It sort of could be your business.” She paused, taking a deep drag of her joint before holding it out to me. “You want some?”

  “No. Thanks.” It wasn’t that I was against drugs, but it wasn’t even midday. Plus, Uncle Col would kill me if I went back to work stoned. “What does your conversation have to do with me?”

  Saff’s fingers tapped against her leg. “Look, I’m going to come out and say it. You don’t have to say yes now, say you’ll think about it.”

  What the hell was she going to ask me?

  “You might know I’m, um, a bit of a liability when it comes to men. I tend to go for the unsuitable, the inappropriate, the married.” She paused, biting her bottom lip. “And Jonas has told me it’s becoming a problem for the record company and that if I don’t get my act together, they’re going to drop me.”

  “Right.” I couldn’t think of a better response. “And what does it have to do with me?”

  “Jonas seems to think you’re a nice, normal, sensible guy who would be good for my image.”

  “He does?” My eyebrows shot up.

  “And you know how sometimes people set up fake relationships to hide stuff or improve their reputation.”

  Mutely, I nodded.

  “So…” she drew out the tension. “Jonas was wondering if you’d be able to step in.”

  For a moment, I thought the pot was having a major impact on me. Had Saff Barnes asked me if I wanted to be her fake boyfriend?

  “Say that again.” I had to be sure.

  “Jonas wondered if you’d be my fake boyfriend.”

  What about you? Do you want me to be your fake boyfriend as much as your cousin does?

  Time froze, until Saff leaned over and tapped me on the arm. “What do you think?”

  “You said I didn’t have to say yes now.” I stalled, honestly not knowing what to say. “I need to think about it.”

  Her chocolate brown eyes studied me, and I saw sadness reflected in them. I assumed any guy would usually jump at the chance to be with her and someone turning her down was a new experience. She blinked and I noted the glassiness in her eyes. Sad or stoned, I couldn’t be sure.

  “Don’t take too long,” she said, so softly I almost didn’t hear her.

  I nodded, then stood up and walked back down the three flights of stairs to the kitchen. With each step, I contemplated her offer. And with each step, I came up with a different answer. When I finally reached the bottom, the steps told me ’no’.

  Uncle Col was deep in conversation with Jonas. I seemed to have developed a habit of walking in on things I probably wasn’t meant to hear. They both stopped talking and stared guiltily at me.

  “Did you speak to Saff?” asked Jonas. “Is she feeling better?”

  “I, um, I guess so.” I looked between him and my uncle. “She asked me something.”

  “That’s what Jonas and I were talking about.” Uncle Col came towards me as my mouth dropped open in horror.

  Was everyone in on this scam except me?

  “I’ll leave you to it.” Jonas retreated into his office, leaving us alone.

  “What did he say?” I snapped. The anger boiled up inside me, something I’d had to work on controlling recently.

  “He told me their idea. And he’d pay you - us - a bonus at the end of the contract if you agreed to do it.”

  “Oh, so you’ve now got a vested interest in this batshit crazy scheme?” Thinking of what Uncle Col and Auntie Annie had done for me made me think I shouldn’t turn it down. It would certainly be one way of paying them back for their generosity.

  “Jonas said you could stay here when you needed to, to help keep the pretence up.” Uncle Col looked down at his boots. “You’d be able to get an early start on the work here.”

  I knew then I had to say yes.

  If I was being honest with myself, pretending to be Saff Barnes’ fake boyfriend for a few weeks wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, would it?

  7

  Saff

  After Tris left the room, I rolled another joint, the methodical process calming my thoughts. What was I thinking? The guy barely knew me from Eve, and anything he did know probably came from The Goss website where all my demons were laid bare on a regular basis. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ran screaming from the house, never to be seen again. If that were the case, it would be a damn shame. He was hot. Not to mention good with his hands.

  Stop it!

  I couldn’t start thinking in those terms.

  For one, he hadn’t agreed to the proposition and second, it would all be for show. There would be nothing more than holding hands and the occasional kiss in public. Enough to make the gossips and the suits believe it.

  I needed to salvage my career. Without TheSB, I was nothing. I didn’t know what I would do. Even though the past year had been a bit of a washout, I honestly didn’t know how to do anything else. And I didn’t want to do anything else either.

  Instead of lighting up again, I leaned down and reached under the bed, pulling out a box. Inside were a bunch of notebooks with scribbled lyrics, chord patterns, melodies. Everything that had gone into the first TheSB album. My fingers ran over the words, invoking the feelings of the time. A surge of pride burst through my veins. Nothing made me feel the same as music did: the creation, the performing, the sense of letting go.

  I could do this. I could make the second album. I could make Jonas proud of me again.

  Unearthing my phone from beneath a pile of clothes, I fired up the chat group I had with Darren and Barney.

  S: Guys, have you tracked down the drummer yet?

  Darren replied almost instantly. I swear he was surgically attached to his phone.

  D: Barney’s on it…Barn??????

  There was a delay while I waited for Barney to reply. Part of me suspected he was being deliberately evasive because I’d rumbled him potentially wanting to join another band. I couldn’t blame him, or Darren, really. I’d let them hang for ages before deciding what I wanted to do. I hadn’t given them too much thought while I continued partying and having fun, resting on the modicum of fame which had accompanied the release of the first album. Neither of them had pushed me to make any sort of decision, but my silence had led them to looking at alternative bands. They were both stellar musicians and I’d be a fool to lose them. I had to hope the drummer would be as enthusiastic as I was about pulling this all back together.

  B: Yeah. He’s interested in having a chat.

  S: A chat? Is that all??? Will he do an audition?

  B: He’s filling in for someone tonight at The Duke. Said if we’re interested to check him out there.

  S: You both up for that?

  D: Do we have a choice?

  He followed up with a smiley face, tongue sticking out emoji. At least he was still interested in being a part of this. I waited in anticipation for Barney’s response.

  B: Be there at eight. Don’t be late, otherwise you might not have a band.

  The veiled threat in Barney’s message was absolutely clear. I had one chance to make this work.

  Satisfied, I lay back down on the bed, staring at the ceil
ing. If I was going to start to make amends with Darren and Barney and get TheSB back on track, maybe I could do the same with my personal life.

  If Tris agreed to the proposition.

  I’d only given him about fifteen minutes to make a decision, but I needed to find out where I stood. If it was a negative, Jonas was going to have to find someone else, and quickly.

  Either way, I had to know.

  I jumped off the bed and headed to the kitchen, hoping to find him there. He was on his knees, fixing the drawers into their sliders. Jonas’ office door was closed and Tris’ uncle wasn’t around. It was the perfect opportunity to get an answer.

  “Hey.”

  “Shit!” He jumped, knocking the screwdriver into his hand then bringing his palm to his mouth as he turned to face me.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…” I genuinely felt guilty. “Oh, shit, you’re bleeding.”

  “It’s nothing, a nick.” Tris got to his feet and headed over to the sink.

  I crossed the room and stood next to him, taking his hand and holding it under the tap. His skin was rough, as I would have expected from someone who was in his line of work. My mind wandered, as I thought of him brushing my body with those hands, how the ridged pads of his fingers would feel against my nipples, my hips, my clit. I let out a soft sigh as my imagination ran riot. It’s only meant to be pretend.

  “Saff, I think it’s okay now, you can stop.”

  Reluctantly, I came back to reality and turned off the tap. Tris was right, there was a small scratch on his palm where the screwdriver had slipped, but otherwise he was fine. Keen to show I was a caring individual, I located the First Aid kit from the box on the side and found a plaster to stick over the injury. My own fingers caressed his palm as I ensured the plaster stuck and did its job.

  “Did you want another coffee?” he asked, as he pulled his hand away.

  I felt bereft by his withdrawal, even though he actually needed his hands to be able to carry on with his job. “Or maybe you need hot sweet tea, for the shock instead?”

  A shy grin spread across his face. “For stabbing myself with a screwdriver or your crazy idea?”

  “Both?” I smiled back. “Look, I wanted to talk to you about that.” Suddenly, I felt shy too, kind of unusual for me when I was around a man. Usually, I was in control and had the upper hand. In this, particularly strange, circumstance the roles were reversed. “I know we landed it on you unexpectedly…” That was an understatement, in fact, less than an hour ago I was hating Jonas for even making me consider it. “I wondered what you thought. I mean, I know I’m not the easiest of people to be around, or even to pretend to be in a relationship with, but you’d be doing me the most massive favour.” I twirled a strand of pink hair around my finger, an action I did when I wanted something. I knew it made me look more innocent, even endearing. It had to be worth a shot.

  Tris’ shoulders slumped and my heart plummeted into my boots.

  Shit. He was going to turn me down.

  “I don’t know what the hell I’m getting myself into here,” he said, his gaze fixated on something over my shoulder. “Or how long you need me to play pretend for. After all, Uncle Col and I are only here for a few weeks.”

  A few weeks would be a good start…dammit Tris, tell me what your answer is!

  My eyes bored into him, willing him to respond.

  “But I’m prepared to give it a go.” His gaze moved to mine and I saw a glint of mischief in his hazel eyes.

  A yelp escaped from my lips. I wanted to throw myself upon him, but it was probably too soon. Instead, I held out my hand. “Thanks, Tris, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

  His big rough hand enveloped my small smooth one as we shook on it.

  Keen to get the pretence going, I gambled on his availability. “So, um, are you free this evening? Me and the guys are going to see a band and check out the drummer, ask him if he wants to join TheSB.”

  Tris let out a laugh. “I kinda wish I’d been asked that instead.” He winked. “Although I’ve never picked up a drumstick in my life, except at a barbecue.”

  “So can you come?”

  He plucked at his dusty t-shirt and ripped jeans. “I don’t exactly have the clothes for it. All my stuff is back at Uncle Col’s.”

  I wasn’t letting him get out of it so easily. “Jonas will have some stuff you can borrow. You’re about the same size. Or we can go shopping before the gig?”

  A shadow crossed his face. “I, er, don’t exactly have the funds for clothes shopping right now. Not until my first pay packet.” The shadow disappeared, a cute flush taking its place.

  “My treat. It’s the least I can do, considering what else I’ve asked of you.” I paused. “If you don’t mind me paying?” The last thing I wanted to do was make him uncomfortable.

  Tris rubbed his chin. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll come along tonight. You can buy me some jeans and a t-shirt, and I’ll pay you back.” He fixed me with a look. “No designer labels though. I definitely can’t afford them.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  There was a noise from behind us and Tris’ uncle stood in the doorway with a bunch of tools and other paraphernalia I didn’t recognise.

  “Everything okay, Tris?” he asked.

  “A minor skin wound.” Tris held up the hand with the plaster on it. “Saff made sure I didn’t die.”

  “Right.” There was a note of suspicion in his voice.

  “Anyway, I should let you two get on, I’m sure you’ve got loads to do and I’m here bothering you…” I babbled on, watching the way Tris was trying not to smile at me. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Bouncing off the door frame, I passed Col and dashed up the stairs back to my room. I grabbed my phone and messaged Rosie. I had to tell someone about my new boyfriend.

  8

  Tris

  “You accepted her offer, didn’t you?” Uncle Col placed the tools carefully on the side, so as not to mark the pristine new surfaces.

  I stared at my boots. “I guess. And if it means you and Aunt Annie get something out of it too…”

  He shook his head. “You don’t have to do this for us, Tris. I think it’s a crazy idea. It’s not something the likes of us would usually get involved in.” He went over to where his folder of paper was. “Jonas gave me this. It’s a sort of contract, a non-disclosure document. I haven’t read it through properly. Your aunt is so much better at understanding this sort of thing than me.”

  “We don’t have to tell her, do we?”

  “How’s she going to react when she sees you in the papers with your new girlfriend? It’s not as if she doesn’t know we’re working here.” Col pushed the papers towards me. “And if he’s going to pay the money he has promised, she’s definitely going to ask where it’s come from.”

  I leaned against the side and scan-read the document. There was a lot of complicated legal jargon I didn’t understand. But then I saw the amount of money Jonas Barnes was prepared to pay to save his cousin’s skin and my eyes almost popped out of my head.

  “Wow,” I breathed. “He’s pretty serious about this.”

  Uncle Col nodded. “We had a brief chat when you were upstairs with Saff. He’s looked after her since she was twelve after her mother died. Sounds like he’s always had her back and doesn’t like to see her throwing her life away. He thinks with a stable influence, she can sort the music stuff out and get things back on track.”

  His words rang true. Getting my life back to some semblance of normality and having fun were things I craved right now. And it seemed Saff Barnes and I had more in common than either of us had probably realised.

  Shopping with Saff was a nightmare. Although it was definitely better than spending the evening dressed in Jonas’ clothes.

  Once Uncle Col left, Saff told me to take a shower in the guest bathroom. Willingly I agreed, using all the expensive Molton Brown products, the scent of black pepper lingering on my skin. Saff
insisted Jonas wouldn’t mind if I borrowed some of his stuff and presented me with a pair of navy chinos, a pale blue shirt and a black bomber jacket. Paired with my work boots, I thought the whole outfit looked ridiculous.

  “You look amazing,” she said, making me twirl around in front of her.

  “I feel like an idiot.” The clothes felt stiff and uncomfortable, mainly because they were things I wasn’t used to wearing.

  Saff appraised me. “Wait, you look like Jonas. Shit. That’s not a good thing. We seriously have to get you some clothes.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “And you told me I looked amazing?”

  So, she dragged me along the King’s Road, stopping in several stores I recognised the names of but had never been able to afford to go in. The assistants stared at Saff, dressed as she was in the tightest black leather jeans, spiked heeled boots, a strategically slashed vibrant purple top you could see her bra through, and a black denim jacket. Her pink hair was freshly washed and hung, tousled around her shoulders. The whole effect was traffic stopping. She held up clothes for me and mostly I shook my head at her choices. We were in and out of the shops within minutes. I swear the assistants probably thought we were casing the place, like some kind of overdressed criminals.

  “We don’t have to do designer though, do we?” I’d been looking at a t-shirt that cost over a hundred pounds, which was about the cost of my entire current wardrobe. “If I’m supposed to be the nice, normal, man-on-the-street getting you back on the straight and narrow, would I really be dressed head to toe in…” I checked the label inside Jonas’ jacket. “The Kooples?”

  “Hmm. You could be right. We may need to tone it down. High street labels it is.”

  There was a large store I usually bought my clothes in off the main street and I pulled her towards it. “We’re bound to find something here.”

  Sure enough, it didn’t take me long at all to find a pair of dark blue distressed jeans, a couple of plain t-shirts and a grey sweater.

  “Is that it?” Saff stared at the pile as I came out of the changing room.