Trust Me (Beggar's Choice #2)

by Lily Morton

  I stare back examining his face that looks slightly different and then I realise why. He’s lacking that customary tiny frown of concentration and focus. In his relaxed sprawl his face looks wiped clean of stress for the first time, and he looks impossibly young. Then suddenly his expression tightens and he sits up sharply, both of us groaning involuntarily as his cock slips free. “Shit, shit, shit. I didn’t use anything. Fuck Nell I’m so sorry.”

  I stare at him in disbelief as I suddenly become aware of the wetness of his semen on my inner thighs. Stupid as I am it had never occurred to me, and I’m definitely old enough to know better. I think for a second. “I’m on the pill Sid and I’m clean so there’s no need to worry about me.” There’s been more chance of a nun catching an STD than me over the last few years, but the unspoken words hover in the air that we’re not really talking about me. He’s the risky one in this picture, being not only an ex drug addict but also one that had been in a relationship with a fellow addict, and his wince tells me that he knows it.

  He stares at me earnestly. “I’m tested and absolutely clean Nell I promise you. I can get you the test results if you want?” I shake my head. “Seriously Nell, it must be worrying you because of the life that I’ve led, but I was tested every six months after Leah, and since I’ve been clean I’ve always worn something.”

  “Why didn’t you this time?”

  “I don’t know.” He looks truly confused now, his brow is wrinkled up like corrugated iron and all the earlier relaxation has gone. “I think my only thought at that point was to get as far inside you as your body would take. I knew it felt utterly amazing but I thought that was just because it was you, not the absence of a condom.”

  I’m struck dumb by the implications of that and we stare at each other for a long minute trying to read each other’s faces. His looks worried and faintly poleaxed while mine must look stupefied. Eventually I break the silence. “Well that’s okay then. I’m protected and we’re both clean. Why are we still looking at each other as if a bomb’s exploded on us then?”

  “I don’t know. It feels like it has.” Pausing a second he strokes my cheekbone with one long finger and hesitates for a second. “Are you okay then with going without condoms in the future?” I stare at him and he half smiles. “I think this discussion usually happens a bit further along the relationship line, not in bed the second time that we have sex, but as with everything else about us we’ve jumped several steps.”

  “Are you bothered by that?”

  He snorts. “Not bothered, just a bit confused, but I have to admit that I don’t have a history of normal relationships so I can’t exactly guide us along. How about you?”

  Wrinkling my nose I shake my head and something that looks a lot like relief crosses his face, but it’s gone before I can analyse it. I speak carefully. “I’m fine without condoms, but doing that implies exclusivity Sid. Are you okay with that?”

  He stiffens at once and pulls back. “Aren’t you?” he asks sharply, his eyes fierce. “Because if you aren’t I can’t do this. I’m not a possessive man normally Nell, but I won’t fucking sit back and share you so if that’s what you want …”

  I put my fingers over his mouth to stem the angry words. “I’m always exclusive in my relationships. I’ve never cheated on anyone Sid, and I don’t like to share either. Infidelity is a deal breaker with me. If it happens I’ll walk away.” We stare at each other and he looks mollified.

  Hovering over me he runs his hands down my body tracing invisible lines and shooting sidelong glances at me almost imploringly, and I respond to his unspoken request. Holding my arms out to him I cuddle up against him as he folds himself almost gratefully into me and gives a long sigh. We lie like that for a long time as he plays with my hair until he stirs.

  “After all that was the sex okay?” he asks tentatively, and I laugh out loud.

  “Really?” I say mockingly. “You have to ask that – you were there and you know I came so hard that I almost blacked out.”

  “Not just once.” His face looks smug. “Three times. Please make sure that you mention this if anyone ever asks you.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I say gravely. “However, I think that you fucked my brains out, so remembering anything might be a bit of a problem.”

  “Really?” He arches his brow and slides against me and impossibly I feel that he’s hard again.

  “Again?”

  “Let’s refresh your memory grandma,” he says darkly before drawing me down into the golden darkness with him again.

  Later on he curls me against him, holding me tightly. “Will you stay?” he whispers almost shyly.

  “Of course,” I murmur, my throat too tight to say more.

  Nodding he pulls the sheets and blankets over our bodies pulling me back against him as soon as he’s settled. We lie for a second and then his voice sounds in the darkness. “Just fucking, Nelly?” It’s a quiet whisper and I swallow hard, feeling my heart twist and writhe in my chest.

  “Of course Sid,” I whisper and it’s the first time that I’ve ever really lied to him.

  After a few minutes his body goes lax in sleep against me, but I lie there my brain whirring at top speed. I can’t believe that we’ve finally done this. I don’t know where it’s going and I know that he says that he’s not going to fall in love with me, but I’m very afraid that it’s too late for me. I’m already in love with him, and looking back I think that it happened very quickly.

  I love everything about him - his humour, his odd moments of shyness, even his unerring ability to put his foot in it when he’s nervous. I love his tetchiness and his focus, and I love that smile that breaks across his face illuminating his eyes, when he forgets that he can’t control the world and just lets go. I know that I’m going to be hurt by this love, it’s inevitable given who I’ve chosen to fall in love with, but I won’t turn back. I can’t. I have to love him because it feels as inevitable as breathing, and at that thought I snuggle back into him feeling the toasty warmth of his body, and loving the fact that even though he’s asleep he still unconsciously draws me close and holds me tight. Sighing, I nestle against him and allow myself to sleep, feeling safer than I can ever remember feeling.

  When I wake up the next morning I stretch, feeling unbelievably comfy and warm. Then I feel the soreness in my limbs and my eyes jerk open at the memory of what happened last night. Looking frantically around the room I can’t see him but then I hear the shower switch off and the bathroom door opens and he strolls out wrapping a towel around his narrow hips. I pull myself up into a sitting position and wrap the sheet around me, while appreciating the sight of his lean body with droplets of water rolling over him.

  Catching my movement he jerks his head up and for a long second he just stares at me expressionless until I feel my welcoming smile start to slide off my face. Something’s wrong but I don’t know what, and then he smiles almost nervously at me. “You’re awake,” he says jerkily, his hands moving almost nervously and tightening the towel.

  “Morning,” I say almost questioningly. “Sorry I overslept.”

  “Oh no problem. Take all the time you want.”

  All the time I want? I feel blindsided now with no idea what’s going on. However, looking at his nervous gestures and seeing how he won’t look me in the eyes, it’s becoming glaringly apparent that this could be a kiss off. It’s never really happened to me but friends have told me about it. They didn’t mention how much it fucking hurts.

  “Yes, I’ve got to go out but you can stay in bed if you like.” He’s moving towards the wardrobe and removing some clothes from hangers, and I relax for a second thinking that he must be coming straight back if he wants me to stay in bed so surely everything’s okay. Unfortunately he carries on talking. “Yeah I’ve got to meet the boys. We’ll be gone for a while so when you’re finished just let yourself out. The door will lock automatically.” He’s pulling on his jeans with his back to me so fortunately he misses the wince of
pain that meets that remark. What I really want to do at this moment is roll into myself like a ball to contain the pain inside me. This is typical - I realise that I’m in love with him and he remembers how to be a complete wanker!

  Gathering the sheet round me I ease off the bed moving stiffly and feeling sick. This is horrendous and I just need to get through this. Edging around him I avert my face from him feeling his gaze burning on the side of my face. “No problem.” I’m trying to sound cheery but unfortunately I know that I’m failing, so I clear my throat and try again. “No problem. I’ll go now. I can shower in my own room. I’ll see you later, yes?” Gathering my clothes from where they’re lying on the floor I scuttle into the bathroom, ignoring his sudden urgent whisper of ‘Nell’.

  I shut the door, turning the lock and lean against it, horrified to feel tears prickling in my eyes. Don’t cry now, don’t you fucking cry now I tell myself harshly. I will not cry in front of someone that’s just made me feel like a groupie. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that I care. The main door to the suite slams shut, and my bravado disappears and I slump against the sink looking at my face in the mirror. My lips are full and bitten and there are small red marks on my breasts and body which tell the tale of the night, but it’s the tears rolling down my face that tell the tale of the morning. I jump out of my skin when there’s a sudden knocking on the door. “Nell,” comes the harsh whisper.

  “Yes,” I warble, brushing the tears frantically away and trying to blot the moisture. “Do you need something?”

  “Yes, your face. I need to speak to you.”

  “Can’t it wait?”

  “No.”

  “Well it’ll have to,” I say harshly. “I’m operating on your time schedule Sid and you appear to be in a bit of a hurry this morning.” This would have sounded really kickass if my voice hadn’t chosen to hitch in the middle, betraying my tears.

  There’s silence for a second and then a flurry of bangs on the door. “Open this fucking door now Nell.”

  “Go away,” I shout furiously.

  “If you don’t open it I’m going to break the fucker down.”

  I’m horrified. “You wouldn’t do that. This is a really nice hotel.”

  “Nell, I’m a fucking rock star sweetheart. They’ll consider themselves lucky if there’s still a functioning TV in here when I leave. Now are you going to open this door?”

  I’m silent and he obviously draws his own conclusion because there’s a sudden terrific crash and I scream as the door splinters and crashes in, revealing Sid in just a pair of low slung, dark jeans, a frantic expression on his face and his chest heaving.

  “What have you done?” I start to say but then squeak as he comes right at me and clasps me tightly to him, his face buried in my neck. He’s sweating and I can feel his heart crashing in his chest and his panting breaths hitting my neck. “I don’t understand,” I start to say but I’m interrupted by his tight voice.

  “I’m sorry Nelly. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “What are you sorry about?” I ask low and cautiously because I hate the idea that he’s apologising for last night, but once again he surprises me.

  “I’m sorry for treating you like that.”

  “Like I was some tart that you’d picked up for the night?” I say harshly. “Is that what you’re apologising for?”

  He raises his head and stares at me for a second his eyes tortured. “You’re not a tart. I never meant to hurt you like that. I just…”

  “You just what? You skipped breakfast and decided to eviscerate me instead?” His head jerks. “This,” I gesture between us. “This might be just fucking but I still have feelings and you fucking trampled all over them this morning. How am I supposed to feel?”

  “I’m sorry,” he says again remorsefully, his eyes intent on me. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What happened? Why would you behave like that?”

  “I just got scared that’s all.” He paces away from me and stands facing away, his hands running frantically through his hair.

  “Scared of what?”

  “This,” he shouts, turning around and pointing between us. “I know I said just fucking, but you’re my friend Nell. I’ve got a feeling that you’re rapidly becoming one of my best friends. I talk to you about stuff that I can’t tell anyone else. You make me laugh so hard and you call me out on my shit. No one really does that anymore.”

  “Why is that so bad?”

  “It’s not bad, it’s really good but you know me. I’ll fuck it up somehow and fucking each other is a shortcut to doing that. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “Well behaving like this is a sure fire way to lose me,” I say sharply, and he jerks and then takes a defensive stance.

  “Well look at you. You’re crying already. We’ve only had one night together. I usually take a bit longer to really fuck someone over.”

  I’m floundering now. Everything that he’s saying indicates that he’s got feelings for me, but his body language says that he’s going to fight that forever. What should I do when I love him so much even now when he’s being a giant fuckwit? If we stop now I’ll always wonder if I could have changed his mind and it’s that, that makes me open my mouth and lie again. “Oh, stop it. Yes, you hurt my feelings but it doesn’t mean that I’m in love with you. You’re in no danger of me falling all over you.”

  He looks remorseful and somehow like I’ve just hurt him. “I know that Nell. You mustn’t love me. Promise me that if we carry on doing this that you won’t fall in love with me. That’s if you still want to fuck me again after my behaving like a complete twat.”

  I smile. “I still want to be with you but you can’t do this again. I promise I won’t fall in love with you in the future.” I say this steadfastly and it’s actually true because I’m already in love with him, but he doesn’t know that and he relaxes slightly, although still looking somehow wounded. “That’s what you wanted to hear isn’t it?” I ask him and he nods a bit too emphatically.

  “Yes, that’s what I want to hear.” We stare at each other for a second and then he raises his arms. “I know I fucked it up, but could we have a do over and pretend you’ve just woken up and I’m doing what I wanted to do anyway and forced myself not to do?”

  “What’s that?” I whisper into the thickening silence.

  “Fuck you in the sunlight,” he mutters, and then he drags me towards him and the sheet is lost and five minutes later so are his jeans.

  ***

  A week later I’m still confused. Every night we’re together. Wherever we are we’re fucking way into the night. It’s incredibly hot and better than anything that I’ve ever had before. He knows my body better than I do and his concentration level, which does everybody else’s head in, is definitely to my benefit in bed. We’ve fucked everywhere – in dressing rooms and cupboards, in clubs, in toilets and even in a hotel sauna and gym changing room. Neither of us are getting much sleep, but remarkably I look better than I ever have with a glow about me that even I can see.

  However, in the day he keeps a weird distance between us. He talks to me as normal but it’s cool, as if he’s reminding both of us that there’s no chance of anything serious happening. Painfully, it also sometimes feels as if he’s putting me in my place, and when he does it I always resolve to keep my distance, but that distance melts like butter on a hot knife when he pulls me to him at night.

  It’s doubly confusing because sometimes he forgets to be hard and cold and he does such sweet things. He gives me foot rubs and massages after long days on the bus, and downloads songs for me that he says remind him of me. He writes me funny, sweet but blisteringly hot notes which he hides in obscure places, and then yesterday I’d come back from a tough sound check to find my hotel room full of lilies. However, I don’t allow myself to dwell on incidents like these. If I’m to escape this, if not unscathed, then at least mobile, I can’t allow myself to take it seriously.

  The other boys are maintai
ning a watchful distance. They treat us the same as normal and don’t mention the fact that we’re obviously sleeping together, but weirdly they seem to disapprove, not of me but of Sid, and occasionally I disturb a reproving frown on their faces particularly Charlie’s, when Sid brushes me off or inadvertently hurts my feelings. I want to tell him not to fall out with Sid because he’s never been anything but honest. It’s me that changed the goalposts and he doesn’t even know that.

  Meanwhile we plod on playing some incredibly beautiful cities. Madrid, Barcelona and Seville slide by and I mark the dates off on my calendar seeing with a sinking heart how little time we have left. Sid’s made no mention of what happens after the tour, but I’m presuming that he’ll go on with his life and I’ll go back to my narrow existence. That thought twists inside me making me gasp slightly and clutch my stomach where I feel sick at the thought of never seeing him again. “What’s up?” he asks sharply.

  We’re in a taxi making our way back to the hotel in Milan after playing our gig and attending the after party which went brilliantly even if Sid seemed a bit distracted throughout it. I’d wondered whether he’d been bothered by the fact that early this morning Vanessa had caught us coming out of Sid’s room. His arm had been around me and we’d been laughing about something. I’d tried not to be bothered by the fact that he’d dropped his arm like he’d been burnt as soon as he’d seen Vanessa, but I’d felt abandoned all the same. Consequently I’d stiffened and moved away from him and I’d managed to keep my distance all day, shying away from him whenever he’d tried to talk to me. At first he’d been cool in retaliation but he’d grown increasingly irritated throughout the day, before lapsing into almost sullen indifference.