by Vicky Owen
I should get out before I throw her on the bed and bury my face between her thighs.
Fuck. How did an aborted one-night stand turn into this?
‘OK.’ She moves behind me and I turn to find her walking in my direction, holding her hand out for the empty cup.
I look at her and she looks right back. She’s no scatterbrained ditz.
Coming here was a bad idea. And now I don’t want to leave.
I hand back the mug and her hand brushes mine as she takes it.
No woman should be having this effect on me.
‘You should think about photography,’ I say, looking back at the wall.
‘No time,’ she sighs, walking out of the room with the cup. I continue studying the pictures. Moments later she’s back, empty-handed.
‘Can I have some of these?’
‘What?’ she says, frowning. ‘I mean, yeah. But why?’
‘They’re good.’ I pluck three off the wall. One bumblebee. One gig shot. One of her. ‘These OK?’
‘Uh, yeah. I’ve got the digital files anyway.’ She looks at me, confused. ‘You know I only took two of those though, right?’
‘I know. So, Friday?’
She nods slowly, unsure what to make of this.
‘Cool. Bring your camera.’ I brush past her before she can respond, determined to get out of here before I give into every baser instinct screaming inside me.
FOURTEEN
Lexi
‘WHAT ARE WE doing here?’
It’s late afternoon and Luc has me by the hand, leading me through the Winterland Market that sets up in town every November for the run-up to Christmas.
‘You’ll see.’
The sun has already set, so the whole place is twinkling with fairy lights. The crowd is thick with families and the air smells like cinnamon and nutmeg.
Still three weeks until Christmas.
‘Is this because of what happened at the gig?’
We get through the densest part of the crowd, and he gently tugs at my arm to pull me alongside him so we’re level.
‘Well, you didn’t bring your camera like I asked,’ he says.
We’re walking away from the market section and towards the funfair area.
‘You didn’t ask. You demanded.’ I adjust the beanie threatening to fall off my head.
‘Exactly.’
The big wheel with loud flashing lights extending through its spokes looms before us as we approach. There’s some terrifyingly high swing thing spinning around in the air above, too.
‘I don’t really see the big deal. And anyway, it was about Jake and Cerys. Not us.’
Luc grips my mittened hand tighter as a cyclist appears from nowhere, nearly sideswiping me.
We cross the road with a couple of other people heading in the same direction as us.
I’m still not sure how I feel about the whole thing. Part of me was secretly glad that the limelight was on other people, because I still haven’t plucked up the courage to tell the girls what’s happening. At the same time, I’m not sure Luc’s going to want to keep this thing going if he’s not achieving his stated aim of showing his ex that he’s moved on.
Music and the screams of fairgoers get louder as we approach the entrance.
‘You should do as I say.’ Luc drops my hand to get his wallet out and pay for entry. ‘Two adults,’ he says to the ticket attendant.
‘You’re not the boss of me,’ I say as the guy in the booth hands Luc’s card back.
He takes it and smiles thank you before leaning into me and lowering his voice. ‘Yes I am.’
His words make my body spark with heat.
‘But don’t worry,’ he says, pocketing his wallet, ‘there’ll be plenty of opportunities to make it up to me.’
‘Is that what this is?’ I say, following him through the makeshift turnstile, very aware of how ungraceful I look as I do it. On the other side, he takes my hand again.
‘Of course.’
‘Uh, OK.’ I hesitate and hold back slightly, not wanting to sound like a chicken.
Luc slows and looks back at me. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s just, you know, I’m fine with heights…but not that swing thing.’ I look up at it as I speak, and Luc follows my gaze. It’s in full flow now, chairs hanging by chains flaring out as it spins up in the air. ‘They look like they’re going to fly off at any moment.’
Luc, still watching the chairs, grins. He looks back at me, an annoyingly smug expression on his face. ‘You know, I hadn’t even considered the swings.’
I cringe. Why did I have to open my big gob?
‘No one can see us up there though,’ he says, glancing back up at them for a moment. ‘Maybe later.’ And he actually winks at me.
Fucker.
‘C’mon.’ He nods towards the other side of the fair, tugging gently on my hand.
‘I’m not going on them.’ I remain rooted in place.
He raises an eyebrow at me, a smile still playing on his lips. He’s infuriating. Pretty and intimidating all at once.
I’m in a hell of my own making. This arrangement. This fairground. The damn death swings.
‘Look,’ he says, suddenly a touch more serious as he places himself around me and squeezes my arm with his loose hand, ‘I’m not even pulling you towards them. I want us to go over there.’ He nods in the same direction again.
I take a deep breath. ‘What’s over there?’
‘Just come and see.’
I let him lead us across the fairground, through crowds eating candyfloss and hot dogs, to the other side.
To the ice rink.
Luc lowers his voice as we approach the barriers. ‘Can you see the press, just over there, to my right?’
I glance quickly behind him and over his shoulder.
‘Did you tell them we’d be here?!’ I hiss.
Luc sighs. ‘No. But that’s why we’re here.’
I frown at him.
‘Well, this is what you signed up for,’ he says matter-of-factly.
Ah.
‘And we’ve missed two opportunities already.’
Of course.
‘I don’t remember signing anything,’ I say, widening my eyes and feigning ignorance.
Luc laughs, and I feel a glimmer of pride.
‘Right, let’s go get some ice skates,’ he says, heading for the shack set up at the edge of the rink.
‘Wait, what?’ Self-satisfaction gone, I start to panic as I hurry after him. ‘I can’t ice skate!’
‘I’ll teach you.’ He greets the woman in the booth and turns to me. ‘What size?’
‘No, really, please.’ I can’t be photographed flailing on a huge block of ice.
‘Lexi,’ he says softly, ‘it’ll be fine. It’s easy.’
‘Easy?!’ I’ve been ice skating before. Exactly once.
The woman hands Luc two pairs of boots. She smiles at us as he wraps his hand around mine again and leads us to a bench. I think it’s meant to be reassuring or something.
‘No, Luc, I can’t.’ My knees weak, I sit on the bench, hands gripping the seat either side of me.
‘Lexi. You can do this.’ His voice is tender as he puts his own skates on the bench and crouches down in front of me. I feel queasy, and am only vaguely aware of him untying my shoes and pulling them off.
‘I slipped backwards before. I mean, this time I went ice skating. Smacked my head on the ice.’ I know I’m rambling and jumbled but he needs to know. ‘They had to stretcher me off!’ My voice becomes somewhat shrill as he finishes tying my laces, desperate for him to understand that I really can’t.
‘Wow, really? Impressive.’ He sits next to me on the bench and starts on his own shoes.
‘Are you even listening?’
‘Yes.’ Luc pulls his first shoe off and sets it between us with my pair.
‘I feel sick,’ I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself and looking down at my lap.
‘Lex,�
�� he pauses and ducks, pushing my hair back and gently tilting my head up so he can look at me. His face is kind. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me.’
It’s too much. I can feel tears welling behind my eyes and I wish he could just hold me or something. And I don’t even know why.
‘OK?’ He speaks in low, gentle tones.
I nod, swallowing back the flood and inhaling a big gulp of air to steady myself.
‘You just need to do what I tell you.’ He flashes his eyebrows at me and resumes exchanging his trainers for ice skates. ‘Besides, you look really cute in your mittens and beanie.’
‘That’s not a reason for me to risk life and limb!’ The force of my voice takes us both by surprise, and he smirks as he finishes tying his laces. ‘I was concussed and I couldn’t even speak in straight sentences,’ I try weakly, knowing it’s no use.
‘Ready?’ Luc stands up and offers his hand to me, some of his dark blonde hair falling forward as he looks down.
‘Can’t believe I’m doing this,’ I mutter, standing up and wiggling my toes in the tight boots. ‘I’m going to crack my skull and bleed out in the tabloids.’
Luc snorts with laughter.
‘And I haven’t even told my friends yet. I’ll be dead and I won’t be able to explain to them.’
‘Haven’t told them what?’ Luc checks our shoes in with the woman in the shack.
‘About us.’
He looks at me, blank.
‘This arrangement, I mean.’ Great.
He shrugs. ‘Well, you’re not supposed to tell anyone.’
‘You told your friends,’ I protest as we start walking towards the ice rink filled with kids and teens whizzing effortlessly around on the ice.
They probably ice-skated right out of the damn womb.
‘That’s different,’ Luc says.
I want to argue back, but a flash of light in our direction is all I need to tell me we’ve been spotted.
And we’re at the rink entrance.
And Luc just glides onto it like it’s nothing!
My jaw hangs open. ‘How?!’
He grins and slides back in my direction, holding out his hands. ‘Ready?’
‘No.’ But I let him take my hands anyway, and a moment later I’m being pulled along the ice.
‘Lean forward slightly,’ he says as we move perilously far from the edge.
I try to grip his hands harder with mine, but my fingers slip inside my mittens.
‘Maimed By Own Mittens. That’ll be the headline tomorrow.’ I wince as two teenage boys race past me.
‘Yeah, not a great choice,’ Luc checks behind up as he keeps skating backwards, holding me.
‘You said they were cute!’
‘I said you were cute, sweetie.’ He switches his stance and pulls me forward. I squeal in terror before he catches me by the waist, skating next to me now.
‘No.’
‘No what?’
‘That’s what Harry called me.’
Luc frowns for a second. ‘Ah. Was wondering why that popped into my head.’
‘Yeah, well,’ I say, trying to loosen my legs and actually contribute, gripping his hands as hard as I can for safety, ‘Harry got there first. So that’s out.’
I’m temporarily blinded by another flash. But it’s been at least a minute on the ice, and I’m still upright.
Not sure I lasted this long last time.
But then I didn’t have Luc holding me. His hand firmly on my waist.
I look at him and accidentally make full eye contact. My face clams up with heat and I look down, embarrassed.
‘Hey, look back up,’ he says.
Another flash, and he gets back in front of me, only this time much closer. Not holding me by the hands any more, but wrapping his arms fully around my waist.
Loose enough for breathing space, but tight enough to feel secure.
He’s right. I do feel safe.
My hands rest on his shoulders.
Another flash. I look for where the photographers are.
Yet another blinds me.
I look back at Luc, squinting. I don’t know what to do.
We’re slowing down.
‘You OK?’ he says quietly. I nod. He rests his head against mine. ‘You’re doing great.’
He smells good. So good.
Our eyes lock, and there’s nothing but white noise and the flicker of something deep inside me that really shouldn’t be there.
Flash.
He raises his hand to my face and touches my cheek, my hair slipping through his fingers. His thumb rests gently under my chin.
‘Lucas,’ I whisper, trying to break the tension and stop this from happening. Because it can’t happen. It mustn’t. Boys in bands only want one thing…
‘Alexis,’ he smiles slightly, and his voice is like the sweetest melody corrupting my heart and all my resolve.
Flash.
There’s the smallest feeling of pressure from his thumb beneath my chin, tilting my head up slightly, bringing my lips closer to his.
‘We shouldn’t…’ I breathe.
‘I know,’ he whispers, a slight frown in his expression.
But I want to. Even if it’s not real.
Bad boys in rock bands.
Flash.
I look down to his lips, almost out of my sight, so close.
And I wobble. Backwards. Falling.
I scream reflexively and in a split second Luc is catching me, his hand at my back, gripping me tightly.
Flash.
‘You OK?’ he half-smiles, clearly holding back the impulse to laugh, and I die a little inside.
Heart in my throat, terror and lust and shame all at once. ‘Told you this place is a deathtrap,’ I say with a shaky voice, forcing a smile.
He gives in to laughter, and twirls us around slowly. Holding my mittened hands again now.
Moment over.
Laughter from all around us.
People have noticed it’s Luc Hall, No Reckless drummer. Plus one.
I want to disappear.
Remembering the cameras, I do my best to laugh too.
Laugh. Smile. Be cool. Do what he says.
Not that he’s saying to do those things, but they seem like the best option.
‘Come here.’ Luc pulls me into a hug and it does nothing to help any of the things I’m feeling. It just somehow makes it all worse. He cradles the back of my head with his hand and whispers in my ear. ‘Ignore them. They don’t matter. You’re wonderful as you are. Concussion and clumsiness and all.’ I hide my face in the crook of his neck and bite down hard on my lip.
I will not cry.
Flash.
FIFTEEN
Lexi
COLD STILL LINGERS on my fingertips as I unlock the door to the flat. Before I even open it I can hear distant, muffled voices and music on the other side, probably from the kitchen.
I open the door and enter the dark, warm hallway.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
Mylo.
‘Swear to God. It was definitely her,’ replies a less familiar voice.
Frowning, I let the door close behind me and walk around the corner of the hall into view of the kitchen.
Sam, sitting at the table and fiddling with a player mat in front of her, looks up and catches my eye. ‘Speak of the devil,’ she says, half a smile on her lips.
Oh no. ‘What have I done?’ I ask, suddenly struck by that feeling of dread you get when you’re a kid in trouble. I enter the room fully to find Mylo sitting with Sam at the table and shuffling cards while Dan stands at the counter pouring some drinks. Mylo’s laptop is open and occupying a seat of its own, playing music.
‘Ice skating. With Luc Hall, apparently.’ Mylo casts a suspicious look at his boyfriend. ‘According to Dan.’
My stomach churns, knotting up.
‘Don’t look at me like that!’ Dan laughs in protest. ‘I saw her on my way over here. Right, Lexi? Ther
e were tons of cameras.’
Damn it, Dan. My eyes dart between them, trying to figure out what to say. Not really knowing what else to do, I nod.
Sam frowns slightly and I brace myself for her judgement, my muscles tensing in anticipation, remembering how she responded to Cerys. Wondering if I can carry the lie or if I’ll break and admit it’s all just pretend.
‘Well,’ she finally says, looking back down at her player mat and arranging tokens, ‘I’m not entirely surprised.’
‘Same.’ Mylo keeps shuffling.
I deflate slightly. ‘What?’
‘You’ve been being weird for weeks. We figured you were seeing someone,’ Sam says, shrugging.
Dan sets drinks down for the three of them and joins the other two at the table.
‘Oh.’ My shoulders relax. I feel a bit silly, getting myself worked up for weeks about them finding out. Well, finding out the half-truth.
‘You want in on this?’ Mylo picks up his laptop to make room for me, but I shake my head.
‘I’m really tired.’ I slide my beanie off my head and start tugging at my mittens to get them off. ‘I might just go to bed.’
Mylo and Dan nod and say goodnight. Sam doesn’t respond. Just keeps looking down at her player mat.
‘OK. Well, goodnight,’ I say, after a moment.
Dan starts to say goodnight but Sam interrupts.
‘Why him?’
I pause. ‘Sorry?’
‘That guy. Luc or whatever his name is.’ Sam keeps fiddling with her tokens.
Guess I’m not getting off as easy as I thought. ‘I, uh—’
‘I mean, why not some roadie or something?’ Sam looks up, her lips closed in a thin line, a game token in her fingers.
‘A roadie?’
‘Yeah. That’s who I thought you were seeing. Didn’t think it was an actual band member.’ She doesn’t even blink.
My mouth hangs open slightly, not sure what to say for a moment.
Dan and Mylo watch. Card shuffling has stopped.
Am I not good enough for Luc?
No. He’d actually want to be with you if you were. He wouldn’t just be paying you to act the part.
Shut up, brain.
‘Why not a band member?’ I finally say, a bit irked at the implication I’m not good enough.
