Heartless Few Box Set

by MV Ellis

  Arlo stands still as a statue.

  “Seriously, go back and enjoy your party, you’ve earned it.” I give him a small shove in the chest, and the best smile I can muster. He grabs my hand as I try to remove it, and won’t let it go.

  “Nah, s’okay, I’m not really in the mood either. I’ll head back to the hotel with you. We can get an early night together, because unlike you, I’ve got plenty of hard feelings.” He smirks and tips his chin toward his crotch.

  Judging by the look on his face and the bulge in his pants, he has anything but an early night in mind. My cheeks heat at the thought, and I marvel that even in this highly emotionally charged situation, I can still get turned on at the thought of sex with Arlo. I’m beginning to worry that I have a problem.

  “I’m serious, Arlo, I want to sleep, nothing else. Besides, I don’t want you to miss out because of me.”

  “I won’t be missing anything I haven’t seen and done one thousand times before. Everybody except Stevie is going to get trashed out of their minds. It’ll be all on—girls, coke, and who knows what else. Been there, done that, got a whole fucking closet full of T-shirts, and one band member in and out of rehab to prove it. I’d much rather be in bed with you, even if we’re only sleeping. You know I sleep so much better with you wrapped in my arms, right?”

  I didn’t know. It’s ironic that he sleeps so well when we’re together, given that we spend most of the time fucking, and when we do finally fall into an exhausted slumber, I usually wake up squashed, sweaty, and needing to pee, half-crushed under Arlo’s weight. Even so, I secretly love the way, even when he’s deep in sleep, he holds me close and tightens his grip possessively when I try to move. I’m not about to tell him that anytime soon, though.

  I’ve gotten sidetracked, but quickly bring myself back to the present, and realize Arlo has moved closer to me. When we make eye contact, he leans down, reaches behind my head, and threads his hands through my hair before resting his forehead against mine, sighing. His voice is heavy when he speaks again.

  “Look, we’ve been in this little bubble together for the past few months, and it’s been unbelievably good, so I just want to wring every last moment out of it before we go back to real life. Trust me, if you’ve done one end-of-tour party, you’ve done them all, and I’ve done what feels like a million. On the other hand, you and I have never done this before, it’s another first, and I want to enjoy it. The boys will always be there, and after a drink or ten, and everything else that’s consumed tonight, they won’t even notice I’m not there. Besides, even if they do, they’ll probably just assume that I’m….” He lets the sentence trail off, but I finish it for him.

  “Off somewhere banging a groupie?” There’s a long pause, and then Arlo sighs heavily.

  “Basically, yeah. But that was how things were before. Before you. Before us. Not now.”

  “Humpf.” I don’t trust myself to say much more.

  Arlo looks pained and closes his eyes. “Can we just have tonight? The two of us. Please?”

  As he opens his eyes, I nod, against my better judgment. “Yeah, okay.” It comes out as a strangled whisper—for some reason my throat is constricted.

  “Cool. Let me grab some stuff, and we’ll take off. I wanna walk back to the hotel, so leave everything here, and I’ll have the roadies get it back for us.”

  “You want to walk?” I can’t keep the disbelief from my voice.

  “Yeah, you know, rock stars have legs too, so I’d like to use them to go for a stroll with my girl, taking in Paris by night with her one last time. And before you say you’re not my girl, I know you don’t think of yourself that way, but I sure as hell do, so suck it up, buttercup, and let’s go.”

  I’m too slow to think of a witty comeback, so I let that one go, rearrange my bags, grab my camera, and wait for Arlo.

  When he gets back, we head out of the arena via a secret service entrance, completely unnoticed, and avoiding the melee of chanting fans crowding the stage door, whipping themselves up into a frenzy at the thought of catching sight of the band. He’s doing the ‘incognito rock star’ thing, with his baseball cap pulled down low, and his jacket collar turned up, but as there’s nobody in sight, it’s an unnecessary precaution. We stroll out into the mild Parisian evening air hand in hand—just another couple in the city of love.

  Nineteen

  We walk in silence for most of the way. I absolutely adore this city, and there’s something about it at night that makes it extra magical. I’m definitely going to miss it, and being in this “bubble” with Arlo, as he put it. He’s right—tomorrow we go back to reality, and I don't even know what that means. Our day-to-day lives are so different that there’s not much common ground. Apart from sex, of course. I think that will always be there, no matter what, but that’s not enough in the long term. Unless all you want is to get your rocks off, in which case, great sex is an excellent place to start.

  Annoyingly, I know I want more than that with Arlo, which makes things tricky. We’ve grown closer over the course of the tour, but I’m not sure if we’ve only gotten this far because we’ve been living this surreal life, distanced from reality, or if there’s genuinely something there we can build on in the real world. I think I know the answer deep in my gut, and my instinct is normally right.

  We continue in silence, each of us immersed in our own thoughts. I love that we’re comfortable enough with each other that we don’t need to fill the dead air with chatter, and are happy to just be together. I wonder if, like me, he’s replaying the last few months like a movie in his mind, pausing and rewinding all the best bits of our time together, and pondering the future of us when we get back to New York.

  As I’m turning all this over in my mind, Arlo begins to slow his pace, then comes to a complete stop. I stop too and turn to face him, questioningly. I take one look at the expression on his face and know that something’s wrong. Saying nothing, I wait. Arlo cracks his neck from side to side, looking pained, but remaining silent. I raise my eyebrows, prompting him to go ahead and spit it out, whatever it may be.

  He sighs heavily again and looks unflinchingly into my eyes.

  “I love you, London, you know that. I know you have feelings for me too.”

  And there it is. Those three little words that can change the world. This guy who is a self-confessed commitment-phobe has just put into words what he’s feeling, yet I can’t seem to manage to do the same. I open my mouth to speak, but Arlo cuts me off.

  “You don’t have to say anything. You’re hesitant about me, and I totally get that. You know the life I’ve lived, and how new all of this is to me. I’m in completely uncharted territory here, and I’m not gonna lie, it scares the living crap outta me. But I believe in trusting my gut, which is what I’ve been doing with you since day one. I’ve never had anything like these feelings for anyone, and that means something.

  “As corny as it sounds, I’ve never been happier than I have these past few months. Seeing you every day, hanging out, and getting to know you has been incredible, even the time without the sex. I know I lost my shit before, and that was totally uncool, but generally, I’ve noticed that I’m calmer and more even-tempered when you’re around. Being near you centers me, makes me feel more human, or some shit. I dunno, I’m just always in a better mood when we’re together. I wish we could carry on in this bubble, and never have to come back down to earth….”

  He pauses, his voice trailing off as he cracks his neck again, reaching his long fingers around to rub the top of his spine, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. As he falters, I pick up where he left off—I wish he hadn’t cut me off before when I tried to speak. It would have made what I’m about to say a hell of a lot easier.

  “Arlo, remember when I said that my issues with us are about more than just Danny?”

  “Yeah?” I pause, but he remains silent, forcing me to go on.

  “I’m scared.” My voice is barely above I whisper. Now Arlo opens his ey
es, and lowers his head, slowly returning his gaze to mine.

  “Scared? Of what?”

  “You. Me. Us.”

  “What’s to be scared of, baby? We’re just two people falling in love.” Is it really that simple? I can’t let myself believe it is.

  “I’m scared you’ll hurt me. You must be able to see how my feelings for you put me in a vulnerable position.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You’re… well… you’re you. Your past speaks for itself, and in some ways, so does mine. Because of my history, I’ve got so much more to lose than you if this thing between us goes to shit. Having already lost Danny, if I lose you, I won’t just be able to dust myself off and move on to the next thing, like you will.”

  Arlo looks pained. “You really know how to cut a man down to size, you know that? Loving you is a very sobering experience.”

  I can’t help but smile at that. “Oh come on, Arlo, don’t play the victim with me. You know what I mean, though, right? It wouldn’t pull the rug out from under you like it would me—you’ve got the world at your feet—money, fame, and women standing on line to be with you. I’ve got none of that,” I explain further.

  “Yeah, but that’s exactly the point. None of that shit matters. The only thing that matters is you and me. I don’t want any of those women, I want you. Because I love you.

  “Trust me, if this thing fucks up, it’s going to be a punch in the gut for me too, of course it is—you own me. You get that, yeah? There’s no getting out of this unscathed for either of us, but apparently, that’s what love is. You wear your heart on your sleeve, make yourself vulnerable, and maybe it works out, and maybe it doesn’t, but at least you tried, right?” He searches my face earnestly.

  “Can we just try?” The pleading tone in his voice, just about destroys me. I want so much to say yes, and to hell with the consequences, but I just can’t. My heart is so fragile, and I’m still not sure if I can trust Arlo not to crush it.

  Painfully I hold his gaze, shaking my head slowly and sadly.

  “I don’t think so. These past few days I got to thinking that maybe all this time we’ve spent together in our fake little la-la land has done us more harm than good. Yes, it’s been great to get to know each other more, but on the other hand, it’s not real, and being so close to you around the clock has confused me so much. When I’m with you, I can’t seem to think straight, and the more I’ve tried to work out my next move, the more uncertain I’ve become. I feel like it shouldn’t be this hard, you know?” Arlo doesn’t move or show any signs of having heard what I said. I carry on regardless.

  “So although it’s killing me to say this, and to think about what it’s going to mean once we’re home… I want us to spend some time apart when we get back.” Boom! There it is. I said it.

  “What?” He seems to choke on the word. “You’re not making any sense, Tog.” He searches my face for clarity.

  “It makes complete sense. Remember when we spoke about our childhoods, and yours was all about noise, and chaos and having other people around all the time, whereas mine was all about spending time alone, and being focused and disciplined?” He nods.

  “I feel like the past few months have been a whole lot of Arlo, and not a lot of London. Life on the road is all of those things you love, but for an only child like me, it can be totally exhausting. I think I just need to get back to me—quiet, calm, and some time with me, myself, and I. I need to focus. It will help me get my mind back on track.”

  As I speak, my thoughts suddenly become even clearer. I really need to stop being selfish and quit jerking him around. It’s time to shit or get off the pot, but I can’t trust myself to make a rational decision when I’m caught up in Arlo’s slipstream. An added bonus is that I’ll be able to concentrate on pulling together the book and exhibition.

  Arlo looks at me, deep in thought.

  “So you just need some time so that you can think about what you want without me crowding you, and making you come 24/7, or pouring my heart out like a teenage girl?” I nod. He’s got the general idea.

  I love that he’s able to make fun of himself, even though this is clearly not what he wanted to hear from me right now. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, he manages a smirk.

  “So you’re okay with this?” I ask,

  He seems to be taking the news incredibly well.

  He shakes his head. “Hell to the no, I’m far from okay, but what choice do I have? My gut is telling me that if I keep pushing, you’ll bolt. It’s also telling me that time apart will either make or break whatever we’ve got going on, but if it’s what you want, I just have to go with it and trust that it will go my way in the end. It fucking slays me that you’re still so unsure while I just know, and have since that first day. If a break will help get you there, then even though it’s the last thing I wanted to hear you say, now that you have, I believe it’s for the best.

  “You know something else? A few months ago I would have pushed hard against this, and used every trick in the book to get you to change your mind, but I’m a different guy now to the asshole you first met, and that’s down to you. It’s cliché, but you really do make me want to be a better man. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a complete pussy—I’m totally playing the long game here, and hoping to fuck that I’ll be rewarded for not being a dick just once in my life.”

  “Umm… okay… I… we….” I feel myself welling up a little. I’m getting what I asked for, but now I’m not sure if it’s what I really want, or just what I thought I should want. Honestly, I could bitch slap myself—the indecision is killing me.

  “Hey, babe, don’t be upset. We got this.” Have we?

  He grins sheepishly, and my heart melts, but his words also lift my mood and halt the tears that were threatening to spill moments earlier. I close my eyes and take a few deep, steadying breaths. When they flutter open, I feel calmer. We got this.

  I don’t know if we were just too wrapped up in our unfolding drama to notice, or if the rain clouds blew in suddenly, but seemingly from nowhere, the heavens open, and we’re quickly drenched in a heavy downpour. I hope it’s not an omen.

  We erupt in fits of laughter as Arlo grabs my hand, and we make a run for the hotel. I’m laughing so hard as we burst into the lobby and head for the elevator, I can scarcely breathe. We climb in, and I catch sight of myself in the mirror. As suspected, I look like a drowned rat. My hair is plastered against my forehead and dripping in soggy tendrils down my back.

  “Reminds me of when we met,” we say in unison.

  “Great minds think alike,” Arlo adds, threading his hands through my mass of wet curls and pulling my mouth to his.

  We kiss greedily, as though trying to get our fill, knowing we won’t be doing it again for a while, if at all. The thought knocks the wind from my lungs. Arlo pushes me up against the back wall of the elevator, both hands above my head, pinned against the mirror in one of his. He uses one knee to move my legs apart and grinds his bulging erection against me fervently. I manage to pull back just enough to speak, though our teeth bump together when I do.

  “So this is your idea of giving me space, is it?”

  “Nah. Fuck that shit. Tomorrow. I’ll give you space tomorrow. Tonight you’re mine, and I’m gonna crowd you like a motherfucker.”

  We arrive at the penthouse and spill out into the foyer already tearing at our clothes. Our jackets are off within seconds, and then Arlo begins pulling my sweater over my head. It’s soaking wet and clinging to my tits, ribs, and arms. Next he starts dragging my rain-soaked jeans down my thighs—they’re tight under normal circumstances, but supertight wet.

  “You’re freezing,” he murmurs hoarsely, taking in the goose bumps all over my body.

  “Let’s get you warmed up.”

  The goose bumps are only partially to do with the cold, but I allow him to lead me toward the bathroom, anyway. Once there, he grabs a towel and starts rubbing me all over. I submit to his ministrat
ions, enjoying letting him be in control. When I’m dry, he lingers with his hands between my legs, gently stroking me there. It’s only a matter of moments before I’m dripping wet.

  Although my body is now dry, I’m still shivering uncontrollably. Arlo straightens up, and sweeping my mass of soggy curls over my shoulder, presses small tantalizing kisses across my collarbone. He reaches out and cups my breasts, rubbing my nipples tenderly. I rise on tiptoe, pressing into his arms, offering him my lips. Our kiss is slow and light at first but heats up as he engulfs me in his firm embrace. His hands roam all over my butt, back, and arms, as though still trying to warm me up, before settling back on my breasts.

  “You’re still shivering.”

  I nod. “Remember how cold I was when we first met, even after you turned off the cold water? I thought that either you were going to off me, or hyperthermia was going to get me. I couldn’t decide which was worse! My circulation is crappy. Once I’m cold, I find it really hard to get warm again, unless I have a hot shower or a hot drink.” That gives me an idea.

  I disentangle myself from Arlo’s embrace, pushing him away, and quickly step into the shower, switching it on. Still clothed, he is behind the eight ball, while I’m butt naked, luxuriating in the warm water. I rub myself suggestively, knowing the sight will drive him wild. When he realizes what I’m doing, he hastily struggles out of his wet clothes too. I note that he wasn’t lying earlier when he said he had “hard feelings”—he’s swollen and throbbing. Before I know it, he’s in the shower too, up close behind me.

  He presses against my back and reaches around me to again stroke my nipples. As he kisses my neck, his hands glide over my slick skin, arousing me even more. As predicted, the hot shower works wonders, and coupled with the fires Arlo is stoking within me, I’m starting to warm up now. He reaches for the shampoo—a high-end organic brand that smells divine—and begins to rub it into my hair. No guy has ever done that for me before. It feels so loving and intimate. As he rinses the suds from my hair, his erection rubs against my butt insistently, and my warming body is unable to resist responding. I reach behind me and take him in my hand, squeezing tenderly.