Shades of Pink

by 33 authors

  He chuckled against her hair. “We’ll go out, so you can get whatever you want.”

  “Kay.”

  His hand was pressed against her stomach, through her shirt, and she was painfully aware that his thumb was mere centimeters away from the bottom of her breast. As he had been speaking, he’d shifted his hips away from her, and she wanted to follow him, to maintain that proof that, at least in his sleep, he’d wanted her.

  “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

  “What?” She blushed, grateful he couldn’t see her face.

  “What my grandmother called morning ablutions.”

  “Maybe. Yes. I’ll be right back.” Without looking at him, she slid out of bed and scurried away. She peed, then washed her hands and picked up the toothbrush on the left. Rather foolish, only buying one colour. Not that she’d ever needed to give one to a guest before.

  After brushing her teeth, she washed her face and took her time smoothing moisturizer over her skin. She didn’t feel too hungover, but decided to take a Tylenol anyway. She was about to reorganize her medicine cabinet when Gage knocked on the bathroom door. She couldn’t hide forever.

  “Your turn,” she whispered as she moved to slip by him, but his hand snaked out and gently gripped her wrist. Not unlike how he stopped her from getting into his pants the night before, and she flushed as the highlights flashed through her mind. His tongue. His touch at the small of her back.

  “Hang on.” He tugged her back into the bathroom, and shifted his hand to lace their fingers together. They stood there, shoulder to shoulder, facing opposite directions, as he picked up the pink toothbrush on the right hand side of the sink, slid it between their entwined hands, and laid out a thin line of toothpaste. She turned her head, not wanting to watch him lest they accidentally make eye contact. If that happened, she might just die of embarrassment. What had she been thinking?

  Champagne and tequila were evil. If Gage hadn’t been thinking clearly, they might have done a lot more than kiss.

  Beside her, Gage leaned over the sink and rinsed. Why was he still holding her hand? Her pulse fluttered in the hollow at the base of her throat, and all of a sudden it was hard to breathe. This was too weird. They’d wrecked it. She’d wrecked it. Why did he have to look so yummy? Why did he have to bring alcohol and his big, stupid, yummy body and be right there, in front of her, so completely touchable and hot and unattainable?

  And now he was holding her hand while he brushed his teeth. He was torturing her, and she’d had enough. She tugged her hand, trying to wiggle free, but he held on tight and lifted their hands instead, spinning her in front of him as he propelled them into the hallway.

  “Where should we…” He trailed off and stopped in his tracks, and she glanced over her shoulder. He looked first at the kitchen, then back to her bedroom, determination warring with something else on his face. What was he thinking about?

  “Gage, what are you doing?”

  He released her hand long enough to turn her around so they were facing each other. “Trying to figure out where we should pick up where we paused last night.”

  Oh. Oh!

  “The kitchen is the more romantic choice. Now that we’re not drunk, I could give you a chance to kiss me again, in the same spot.” He loomed over her, and a wave of need rolled from her chest down to her toes. “I’ll be honest, I’d prefer the bedroom, because…well, because I’m a guy, and I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

  “You have?” Her voice was foreign to her own ears. Everything was not quite right all of a sudden, as if she’d shifted to an alternate dimension where Gage wanted her, without the help of booze.

  “Oh, you have no idea.” She actually did, but that would have to wait until she caught her breath. “I’ve been waiting for you to see me as something more than a friend.” He reached out and cupped her face with one hand, his thumb stroking the soft spot beneath her cheekbone. “Do you want me, Ember?”

  She nodded, too stunned to answer out loud.

  “Then right here is good enough.” He slid both hands down her waist, over her hips and around the back of her thighs, leaning over a bit to gain some leverage before hoisting her up and pressing her against the wall. “Ember Whitney Mulligan, will you be my girlfriend?”

  “What?” She reached out and steadied her hands against the back of his head.

  He groaned and buried his face in her neck. “I fucking love it when you touch my head. It makes me harder than a box of nails.” He rocked his erection into her core, his jeans rubbing right through the scant scrap of lace between her legs. “I said, will you be my girlfriend. If we’re going to do this, let’s do it.”

  Her sex clenched at his unintended double entendre. “We’re going to do it?”

  Another groan. “No. I mean, yes, I hope so. But first, we’re going to make out. Then we’re going to get breakfast. Then you’ll wear my jacket and watch me do a sound check this afternoon. We’ll call those dates one and two. The concert tonight can be the third date, and if you still want me then…”

  A panicky laugh ripped out of her chest and she pulled his face to hers. “I’m still going to want you then. I want you now. I’ve wanted you forever and a day, and that will never change.”

  He pressed a kiss on either side of her mouth, then brushed his lips against hers with feather-light delicacy. “We’re only going to have one first time. I want it to be outstanding.”

  “Okay.” She breathed in, as if trying to suck him closer. An ache was pulsing in the back of her neck, and if he didn’t kiss her soon, really kiss her, like he did last night, she just might— “Mmmphf.”

  He swallowed her noises, which went from surprised to delighted and then hungry, and she squeezed hard around his upper body, wanting to touch him everywhere. Wanting to consume, and be consumed.

  And as he lifted her off the wall and walked slowly to her bedroom, she didn’t have any doubt that they’d do that, and it, over and over again in good time.

  Gage Hunter updated his status:

  Breakfast with my girl Ember. Up next: sound check. Stoked about the show tonight, see y’all there!

  ~~~

  Zoe York lives in London, Ontario with her young family. She has an English degree and works at a university, so it was probably a foregone conclusion that she'd write a romance novel one day. She writes sexy contemporary romances, in small towns and big cities and everywhere in between. Visit her at http://www.zoeyork.com

  LOVE AND OTHER SILLY EMOTIONS

  Susan Harris

  When you’re faced with a heart-breaking choice of whether to follow your heart or follow your dreams, what would you do? Niamh made the ultimate sacrifice for the boy she loved and set him free. Now, things are different and they both have followed their dreams, can they finally follow their hearts.

  ~~~

  There are some things that you just have to do for your best friend. Skip class so she can meet up with her boyfriend. Take half the blame when she raids her dad’s alcohol stash. Sneak out of the house when she has had yet another fight with her on again off/again boyfriend and needs someone to walk her home. As I said, there is nothing that you would not do for your best friend.

  So that was how I ended up standing here, on her wedding day, dressed in what could only be described as a mixture of a pink marshmallow and oodles of chiffon. The corset top led down into a whole mess of a skirt that made it almost impossible to walk, not that the death-spike heels on the shoes made it any easier. While Helen was the girly-girl in the friendship, tall, long legged blonde bombshell who just grabbed your attention; I was, and always would be, the tomboy who wore boys’ clothes, had piercings and tattoos, loved reading and music. With my cropped black hair and curves, we were at complete opposite ends of the spectrum, but I love that girl to death and if having me stand by her side like a tie-dyed poodle made her happy, then that’s what I would do.

  But it was not the dress or even the shoes that made me so twitchy. You se
e, today Helen would marry the man of her dreams, that on-again, off-again boyfriend who she had been with for the better part of ten years. It was the devilishly handsome man that stood to Gary’s right that made my heart race like a stampede of horses in my chest. The love of my life, that emo boy I grew up talking music with and dreaming of bigger and better things that would take us away from the uneventful streets of Ireland.

  I suppose I should give you a little bit of back story. When Helen started to date Gary, we all used to hang out. Our little group consisted of Gary and Danny, as well as Mark, Cian and Fionn who reckoned that they were the next big thing in rock music. Their little band seeming to bring along their fair share of groupies. We all quickly became friends and spent every single second that we could together. And when all the couples seemed to veer off, it always ended up being the two of us left alone. Always shy with his head buried in his notebook writing songs, Daniel ‘Danny’ Winters was the only boy I had ever been interested in. Danny, with his jet black hair streaked with blue and haunting teal eyes, had me when he grunted ‘Hello’ on that first day. It took me awhile to drag even the slightest conversation out of him, but after a few months we just gravitated to each other.

  Helen used to joke that we were the perfect couple with our matching black nail varnish, depressing taste in music, and the fact that we both carried notebooks around with us. We all had big dreams—the boys wanted to be an international rock band and me, well I wanted to be a music journalist. I wrote my own little music blog and the boys gigged everywhere and anywhere they could. I applied to study journalism after completing my Leaving Cert and Helen went for P.R. Our boys were going to take a year out to try and get signed, and we all lived in a bubble believing that we could have it all. But sometimes love and dreams must venture down different paths and you end up somewhere that you never expected.

  After the Leaving Cert, we all spent the summer travelling around Ireland while the boys played at summer festivals and supported some bands. They worked their asses off, but as September neared, it seemed nothing would happen. Then out of nowhere, after a gig in a pub in our hometown of Cork, an agent approached them with the offer of a lifetime. A two year development deal in London with a top label so that once they fine-tuned their sound and writing, the world would be ready for them. And that was the beginning of the end for Danny and I.

  The band rejoiced and celebrated rock star style, all but Danny that is. He always was the restrained one who refused to drink or smoke so as not to ruin his voice. Helen was already planning to follow Gary to London, but Daniel wanted me to follow my dream and go to college in Dublin. He refused to leave me, saying they could record in Dublin or nothing else. I loved him for it, but deep down knew he would grow to resent me if he passed on this opportunity. So I did the only thing I could. I broke up with him.

  Or to be more precise .... I ran away.

  I wouldn’t have been able to tell him to his face, Daniel could always tell when I was lying. On the night before we were supposed to leave for Dublin, I got on the train without him and left a letter with my mother to explain myself. I told him I loved him too much to stand in his way and it was better to end it like this rather than grow out of our foolish teenage love. For my plan to work I had to be sneaky; I changed my number after swearing Helen to secrecy and refused to tell anyone where I was staying until Danny and the boys were on that plane to London.

  I studied as hard as I could to keep my mind off my broken heart, forcing myself to not check up too much on the band. I got little snippets from Helen, who had talked her way into a job at the record label, but being my best friend, she never brought up Danny. Four years later, I graduated from college and began working in a newly formed magazine called RockIT! It was grunt work, making coffee and sweeping, when all I wanted to do was listen to music and do interviews. I’m assuming by now you’re all guessing ahead and groaning with me because you can see what’s coming next. Yup, you’re right.

  At the same time I was starting to make an impression with the boss, who should walk into the office for an interview but Gary. After a quick hug and chat, he was ushered into our interview room. Gary was taking part in a guitar special the magazine was running. I hadn’t seen him in five years but the boy looked the same. Brown shaggy hair, mischievous smile plastered on his face. I hovered around until he was finished and then gasped for breath as he embraced me in a bear hug and told me that I really needed to come visit because Helen missed me. I gave him a vague promise that I would and with a peck on the cheek he was gone. Not once did either of us mention Danny, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  Shortly afterwards, I was called into the office for a meeting with my boss. She sat crossed legged behind her glass desk and ran her eyes over me to assess me. I could tell that Gary had spilled the beans about my connection to the band and she was not impressed that I did not tell her sooner. The band had quickly gained a cult following and every magazine was itching to get that coveted interview.

  Sharon leaned forward, her elbows clinking down on the glass as she rested her head in her hands.

  “Why did you keep your past history with Whispering Wolves a secret?”

  “Because it’s private and I don’t want to use my connections to climb the ladder.”

  Sharon frowned. “Silly girl. If you don’t use your connections then how do you expect to make it? The only reason I’m where I am today is because I used to sit next to one of the bewitched twins in school. I interviewed them for my school paper and made a name for myself. It is all about contacts my dear, and now your chance has come.”

  I had raised an eyebrow at her then and knew before she told me that my first real assignment would be to interview the band Whispering Wolves for the magazine. And not surprisingly, it was Gary who suggested it would be to the band’s liking if I interviewed them. I even got flown to London for it.

  On the morning of the interview, I dressed in my normal black combats and Rockit! T-shirt but did make the extra effort to slap on some make up, telling myself that I was just being professional. Now to say it took me ten minutes to pluck up the courage to stroll into the swanky hotel where the interview would be conducted would not be a lie. As my feet carried me down the hall to the conference room, I heard an unmistakeable shriek from my left before a cerise clad blonde tackled me.

  I hadn’t seen Helen in a long time and it took all my strength not to cry. She refused to loosen the vise-grip grip on me and I could do nothing but laugh and notice the gigantic rock on her left hand. Catching me looking Helen’s face broke into a massive grin.

  “I was going to tell you when I next saw you babes .... we have loads to catch up on. Please tell me you are at least staying in the city tonight.”

  “My flight is not till tomorrow morning so I could definitely use a drink after this.”

  Flashing me a knowing smile, Helen leaned in whispering in my ear. “Don’t worry. He’s as nervous as you are.” With a quick kiss on the cheek, she was gone, shouting for me to meet her in the hotel bar after the interview. A suit clad security man appeared out of nowhere and ushered me forward. I gulped in a breath of air before I faced my demons.

  All the boys were on me before I had even stepped inside, excited greetings and questions being flung at me. It felt so natural, so much like home to be surrounded by friends who were more like family than some of my relatives. After a few rushed answers, the boys returned to their seats and my gaze fell on my Danny.

  He sat in the same position he always had—legs hugged into his chest, head bent low as he scribbled in a notebook. His hair had grown out with wisps of black ink covering those blue-green eyes. Danny glanced up at me and his eyes held mine while my heart threatened to pound its way out of my chest. With a brief nod he returned to his notebook causing my mouth to dry up. Thoughts raced around in my head. That was it? After five years and I don’t even get so much as a Hi Niamh how you been.

  Now I know what you’re thinking.... you
left him... he has a right to be pissed, but a hug wouldn’t have been too much to ask for ... was it? I pulled myself together and got down to business. The first part of the interview went along so smoothly as I asked the boys questions I already knew the answers to but needed them to have said it. When it came to the album, this is where Danny found his voice and we spoke the first words to each other in five years.

  ME: So Guys, I personally know how hard ye worked to get where ye are today, ready to release your debut album, “Love and other Silly Emotions”—but what the fans want to know is how did you come up with the name for the album?

  Danny: The name comes from one of the first songs I knew I wanted on the album. It took me five years to finish the song, the lyrics meant a lot to me and I needed them to be perfect or the song would not do us justice. I guess it’s a throwback to our teens when we think we are in love and go through a shit load of emotions that may or may not be real.

  Me: That sounds like it has a bigger story behind it. So, um Danny, the band is well known for their unique rifts and beats as well as your melodic vocals on a track. One of my fave tracks on the album is the haunting, ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’... a pure, gritty acoustic performance with just Gary on guitar and you on vocals. Do you have any favourite tracks on the album or do you consider them all special?

  Danny: ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’ is also one of my favourites on the album. I wrote it when I was trying to get over the love of my life who left me. She did the right thing for the wrong reasons but I guess you never forget your first love and your first heartbreak, do you Niamh?

  Me: (Having almost swallowed my tongue) No Danny, I guess you never do. It never does quite go away.

  And then Danny stuck his head in his notebook again and that was that. After a few more questions the boys were pulled away for a photo shoot for the mag but only after promises that I would keep in contact and to not put any embarrassing stories in the article. I gathered my bits and made for the door. Danny was the only one who remained in the room, seemingly lost in thought but as I stepped outside the door I heard his voice in a quiet murmur say that it was good to see me.