by Julie Archer
“Ah, music to my ears.” Jonas whirled around in his seat to face me, a big smile on his face. He wasn’t one to be happy about something—anything—so I wondered what had happened. Oh, the dating site was for him!
“Does that mean we still have a recording contract?”
“There’s still some concern because you don’t have any new music…”
“We will! You know I’m heading out to see the guys now.” I fumbled in my bag for my phone. “And you can listen to what Darren and I came up with last week. It’s raw, but I’m sure it will turn out okay.”
Jonas held up his hand. “It’s fine. I believe you, Saff. For once.” He paused. “I’ve got you a gig at The Windmill in Brixton Hill in a couple of weeks. One of the other bands on the label was meant to play there, but apparently, they’re taking a break or have split up or something. We didn’t want to lose the booking, so I suggested TheSB.”
My eyes widened. Two weeks to sort out new music? He had to be kidding. “Really? That soon?”
He held out his hands, palms open to me. “You know the alternative. Don’t let me down, Saff.”
The hustle and bustle of the Tube was the perfect backdrop for my muddled thoughts as I headed across town to meet the others. We’d booked Dean Street Studios in Soho for two weeks, again thanks to another band breaking up. It really did help to have a cousin in the business. There weren’t going to be any engineers there this week, but we knew we had to get several tracks in shape for at least an EP, so it would be all about creating the music and the lyrics. I felt like Darren and I had made a good start and hopefully the others would be on board too.
“You’re late,” the others chorused as I made my entrance.
They were lounging around on the sofas in the live room. Darren had already nabbed the guitar he wanted to use and was strumming a riff, which I recognised as the track we’d been working on.
“Ah, but I have news which is the reason I’m late.” I dropped to the floor and sat, cross-legged in front of them.
The three of them fixed me with expectant looks.
“We’ve got a gig in a couple of weeks.”
Each of their faces dropped at the realisation of the timeframe I’d given them.
“What? Where?”
“Tommo will never learn everything in that time!”
“When do we sleep?”
Their barrage of comments flew at me all at the same time.
I took a moment to think and reached into my bag for my tobacco tin. The focus of rolling a joint calmed me as each of them came up with reasons why we couldn’t do it. When their voices died down, I spoke. “Tommo doesn’t have to learn everything. We need new material. And we can put in a couple of covers too. It’ll be a half hour set, tops.
“Where is it?” asked Barney.
“The Windmill, Brixton.”
Darren let out a whistle through his teeth. “Could you find somewhere a little more, I don’t know, glamorous?”
I laughed. It was an odd venue, looking something like a cross between a pub and a community centre. But it had a good following and if Jonas had booked it for one of his other bands, it had to be decent. “Come on, a Tuesday night there? We’ll have the audience eating out of our hand.”
“Good point.”
It seemed like they were coming around to the idea.
Darren grabbed the joint from me and lit it. He inhaled deeply before passing it on to Barney. “We’d better start work then.”
24
Tris
It had been a strange week. I’d barely seen or heard from Saff since Monday morning. She’d spent most of the week at the studio in town, coming home in the early hours before crashing out and doing it all over again the next day. After two days, I decided to head home with Uncle Col each night. There seemed little point in being there if she wasn’t. I wondered if she’d changed her mind about us.
As I was about to drop off to sleep on Thursday night, my phone pinged. I cracked open an eyelid and picked up my phone from the side. Saff.
Hey, are you still awake? xx
I am now… x
The dots indicated she was typing something, and I waited for her response.
Sorry I haven’t been home much this week. I needed to do this band stuff, you understand, right? xx
I guessed I did. After all, it was one of Jonas’ conditions she got the band going again. Who was I in the big scheme of things? I was the guy who’d been paid to improve her reputation. Now I’d done my part, she didn’t need me any longer.
Sure. How’s it going? x
Better than I thought it would. We’ve written three new songs, almost enough for an EP. I need to find inspiration for one more though xx
She followed it up with a crying emoji.
I hesitated for a moment before replying.
I missed you this week xx
No dots. No read receipt. Nothing. I was about to give up and try to sleep when she replied.
I know. I missed you too. I’m sorry, it shouldn’t be like this. Let me make it up to you this weekend. Gotta go now though, see you tomorrow? xx
After we’d finished messaging, I tried to get some sleep but it wouldn’t come. I ended up tossing and turning; fretting Saff didn’t want me and I’d made a horrible mistake in agreeing to this whole fake thing.
I was getting in too deep.
“Come on, Tris, where’s your head today? That’s the third time you’ve got paint on the window.”
Uncle Col and I had moved into the living room and were trying to finish the first coat of paint on the ceiling before Jonas and Saff arrived home. The prep had taken longer than expected. We’d had to move all the furniture to the centre of the room and cover it, take all the pictures off the walls, sand down some of the paintwork and make sure the walls were sound. Jonas had apparently told Uncle Col he would do some of the prep, but hadn’t been true to his word. Perhaps it was a Barnes family trait.
“Give me a break, it’s the first time I’ve ever painted a ceiling before.”
“Then let me have the roller. You go and get something to clean the window with.”
I was more than happy to let him take over. My lack of concentration was fuelled by lack of sleep and an overactive mind. Saff’s absence that week had affected me more than I’d thought. Last weekend had been amazing and I truly thought it was the start of something good between us. Clearly, I was wrong.
Uncle Col’s box of tools was by the back door and I went to find some methylated spirit and a cloth to get the paint off the window.
“Hey, Tris.”
The sound of Saff’s voice startled me and I dropped the bottle. Thankfully, it was plastic and bounced a few times before rolling across the floor and ending up at her feet.
I turned and saw her in the doorway. She looked done in, bags under her eyes, mascara smudged, her hair hanging limply around her shoulders. For her she was dressed conservatively, in a pair of jeans and a nondescript hoodie.
“Hey, long time no see.” I could have punched myself. What sort of a greeting was that to the person I’d been fantasising about for most of this week?
“Are you busy tonight?”
I could lie. I could tell her I had plans back home, that I was going out with a whole bunch of friends. But I had nothing. I shook my head.
“Nope. Free as a bird.” Seriously, what was it with me and the cliché replies?
She gave me a tiny smile. “Good. We’ve got a party to go to.”
“We do?”
“Rosie, my best friend, is having a few people over to hers and she wants us to go.”
A few people at a house party. Sounded small, intimate even. It would be like a proper date.
“Sure, sounds good.”
How wrong could I have been? Of course, I’d forgotten Rosie was Rosie Tatton. Her house was a sprawling Notting Hill mews style palace and having a few friends over meant something like fifty to a hundred, maybe more. I couldn’t be sure as
a lot of them looked the same.
After taking the afternoon to nap, Saff had been raring to go. We’d been there little more than an hour and she’d already downed three shots of tequila and a bottle of beer. I remembered the first time we’d gone out and the state she’d been in. I honestly didn’t want to have to load her into a taxi again.
“Rosie, this is Tris. Remember I told you about him?” Saff slurred, pulling me across the room to chat to Rosie.
Rosie gave me a quick up and down glance. “You said something about meeting him at uni. He doesn’t look anything like those goth people you went to that club with.”
It was obvious Saff had made up some story about how we had come to meet. But a goth club? Reluctantly, I played along.
“I’ve changed a lot since then. Lost the mohican and the piercings. The green dye was playing havoc with my hair.”
Saff snorted. “Yeah, he looks much better now.”
“How did you guys meet up again?”
I stared at Saff, wondering which of us was to take the lead on this. When she didn’t reply, I racked my brains to come up with something believable. Or at least semi-believable.
“Turns out my uncle was doing a job for Saff’s cousin and I went along to help. And there she was. It’s been several years, but I recognised her straight away. I always knew she’d make a success of her band.” I pulled Saff close to me, wrapping my arm around her waist.
Rosie’s eyes narrowed. Clearly, she didn’t believe a word of it, but it wasn’t far from the truth, except for the band bit. “Hmm, he’s certainly different to Troy Carson.”
“Yes, he’s single for a start. Well, he’s not single obviously because we’re together, but I mean he’s not with anyone else apart from me.” Saff stared up at me, her eyes glassy. I hoped she wouldn’t have anything more to drink.
“True. I’m definitely not with anyone else.” I gave Rosie a broad smile. “And what about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
“Not right now.” Rosie pursed her lips and I guessed I’d hit a sore spot. “I need to go and mingle, Saff. I’ll catch up with you later.” She whirled around and stalked off in the direction of the conservatory.
I wasn’t sure whether I warmed to Rosie on first meeting. She didn’t really seem to want to give me the time of day. A builder’s apprentice probably wasn’t on her list of eligible bachelors.
“Come on, I need another drink.” Saff tugged my arm and led me towards the kitchen.
“I don’t think you really need another one, do you?”
The kitchen was surprisingly empty with a group of four girls sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping champagne cocktails. This definitely wasn’t the type of party I was used to.
“Saff, this…thing between us.” I chose my words carefully and glanced over to the group, making sure they weren’t listening. “Last weekend, we were close. But now, I feel like you don’t want to know me.”
Her gaze locked on mine, suddenly serious. “Tris, I definitely want to know you. Come with me.”
25
Saff
Hearing Tris say he didn’t think I wanted him hit me in the gut. He was right, the past week had been tough. I hadn’t worked this hard with the band in a long, long time and it was the reason - the only reason - I hadn’t seen him. If it hadn’t been for Jonas’ demands, I would happily have spent every waking moment with him.
I grabbed his hand and wove our way through the people in the house to get to the second floor bathroom. It was one place I knew we wouldn’t get disturbed. Rosie didn’t usually let people up here. I shut and locked the door behind us, then turned to Tris, my hands on my hips.
“Why do you think I don’t want anything to do with you?”
“This was supposed to be a business arrangement, you know. Then last weekend somehow things got blurred and I thought we were something else.” He dragged a hand through his hair, his dark eyes studying me.
I let out a hard breath. “We are something else. Or at least I’d like us to be.” I chewed on my lip. “I’ve never met anyone like you before. You’re so genuine, not a bad bone in your body. You’re helping your uncle out, you looked after me when you’d only known me a couple of days. You’re one of the good guys, Tris.”
I thought I saw a flicker of something in his expression as I said he was a good guy. There was nothing in his behaviour in the time we’d known each other to make me think otherwise.
“And this week had been crazy busy because of the band. No other reason. When I haven’t been in the studio with the guys, I’ve been at home, sleeping. I wish I could have seen more of you. Maybe you could come and see what we’ve been doing?” I asked hopefully.
He was silent, seemingly digesting what I’d told him.
“Say something.”
Tris still didn’t answer, but instead moved towards me. Silently, he reached out to trace a line along my jaw, his thumb resting underneath my chin. I held my breath as he leaned in and met my lips with a soft kiss.
“There isn’t anyone around to see this,” he murmured, breaking away for a second. “So you can stop me at any time.”
“I don’t want to stop you.”
“That’s good, because I don’t think I can keep my hands off you for much longer.”
Tris resumed his kiss and I could feel his erection pressing into me. He was right, it had been a long week since he’d woken me up so pleasurably on Monday morning. His hands ran down my sides and I shivered, his touch had me aroused before he’d even really done anything. The strength of his kiss moved us across the room until I bumped into the washbasin, the cool porcelain hard against my buttocks.
“Turn around,” Tris instructed softly, his hands enabling the movement, gripping onto my hips.
I did as he asked, my body igniting at the contact.
He kissed the back of my neck, peppering tiny kisses along my shoulder blades and I shivered involuntarily. I was trapped between the washbasin and rock hard man. My breath started coming in shorter gasps as Tris caressed my breasts, his fingers manipulating my nipples through the thin material of my dress. It wouldn’t take much for him to slip up the skirt, pull down my panties and…
Oh!
It was as if he could read my mind as he did exactly what I was thinking. The rough pad of his middle finger circled my clit, two of his fingers tantalisingly close to entering me. Pinioned as I was, there wasn’t much I could do apart from rock my hips to increase the pressure. I tried to open my legs to encourage him to slip inside, but my knickers hampered me as I wriggled and bucked with pleasure. Feeling my need, his lips drifted to the sweet spot on my neck, his breath hot.
“How much do you want this?” Tris murmured in my ear, his stroking relentless. “How much do you want me?”
“Please, Tris, don’t stop…I want you inside me, please, now…” I whimpered, heat flooding my body, legs threatening to give way.
His lips curved against the sensitive skin of my neck and the sound of his jeans unzipping filled the air.
His erect cock slid between my legs, and I gasped as he entered me, hard and fast. Once inside and he’d found a rhythm, his hands slid to cover mine, gearing every thrust to achieve maximum pleasure. I wanted to touch myself, to finish what he’d started, but my wrists were pinned to the basin, restraining me.
“Fuck, Tris, I…” I wasn’t usually this vocal, but everything he was doing was hitting all of my buttons, I couldn’t stop myself.
“Ssshhh, it’s okay, babe, patience.” Tris’ lips brushed along my shoulder blades, his teeth occasionally nipping the skin.
I didn’t want to be patient.
I wanted him to take me to that high, to push me over the edge, to come with me.
His thrusts were annoyingly gentle, taking his time when all I wanted was for him to take me furiously.
Teetering on the precipice, one touch would give me the release I craved. I struggled to release my hands, but Tris’ grasp was too strong.
“S
oon, Saff, soon.” His voice growled in my ear.
Sensing what I wanted, he freed me, his own fingers dipping down towards my clit relentlessly tantalising the tender bud with urgent strokes.
“Oh…my…Jesus…fuck…” I could barely string a coherent sentence together as the climax savagely hit.
Tris turned my head towards his and his mouth crashed into mine as we rode together, him coming with a final drive followed by a grunt.
My legs started shaking and I could barely stand once he’d finished with me. I slumped to the floor, knickers hanging off of one ankle, legs awry.
Classy, Saff, really classy.
Tris didn’t let his gaze move from me as he tidied himself up. “You look totally gorgeous right now,” he said.
I ran a hand through my hair, knowing it was far from the truth. “And you realise it’s all your fault, don’t you?”
“If I don’t get you out of this bathroom right now, I’m going to want a repeat performance.”
My clit throbbed painfully as his gaze slid to my nakedness. He had to be joking, no guy could ever go that quickly again. Me on the other hand…
Someone hammered on the door. “Are you okay in there?”
Rosie. Shit.
“Yeah, Rosie, it’s me, Saff. I’ll, um, be out in a minute. Just freshening up.”
“Good, there’s a bottle of tequila with your name on it.”
Tequila wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to get back home and get naked with Tris. Again. But first, we had to get out of this bathroom. I stood up on my wobbly legs and pulled my knickers up, before smoothing down my dress. The reflection that stared back at me from the mirror was of someone fully sated and glowing. Hastily, I reapplied some lip gloss and turned to Tris.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Only if we can head home soon.”
“You got it.”
Rosie was waiting outside. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw me appear, hand in hand, with Tris. Eyes narrowed, she examined my face. “You look like you’ve just been thoroughly fucked.”