Reverb

by Lisa Swallow

  Damn, I didn’t even ask for his autograph.

  ****

  BRYN

  The taxi pulls away, leaving tyre tracks in the thick snow. Well, that was a big fail. After what I witnessed inside, I’m not surprised Avery wasn’t up for being hit on by a guy, however famous I am. Funny girl, cute, she made me smile and understood where I was coming from when I chatted with her about being an outsider. This pulled me away from staring at her as a potential conquest.

  I’m crap at the predatory rock star moves, evidently.

  My breath fogs in front of me and I rub my arms, wishing I’d brought my jacket outside. I wish I’d chatted longer with a girl on the periphery of my life, but whose understanding pulled us together. She also hates the romantic bullshit taking place inside the room and on the edge of her friends’ lives too.

  Maybe I’ll join her tomorrow.

  Smiling to myself at the expression on her friends faces if I did decide to rock up at the restaurant, I head back into the noise and warmth of one of my best friend’s wedding, determined to quell my resentment at the world changing.

  Chapter Six

  AVERY

  Franco’s. Nothing has changed in this Italian restaurant for years, even the ageing owners. I’ve shared celebratory meals, first dates, family birthdays, and yearly Christmas meals here since I was a kid. Even the menu is the same, apart from the prices. I could order every person’s meal without asking.

  Janet has pizza, margarita, not much cheese.

  Lee, her now husband, always has steak, well done.

  Simon and Rachel both have lasagne. With chips.

  Martin has steak too but likes his rare, and Bitchface will have a Caesar salad to watch her skinny figure.

  Predictable and boring.

  I nibble on a breadstick attempting not to glare at them across the table or knock back the sweet white wine too quickly. Janet and Lee discuss their baby plans with me and I feign interest while staring at the tinsel garlands strung across the roof. Happy bloody Christmas.

  Martin and Taylor could at least keep their hands off each other in front of me; otherwise, I’m going to stab her in the eye with my breadstick. I swear she’s deliberately running her fingers through his hair and smoothing his face to piss me off. At least Martin has the decency to look uncomfortable.

  Together since school, me and Martin had a long-distance relationship once I left town for uni; so realistically, we’d never make it. However, finishing our relationship before starting on the next girl would’ve been preferable to me coming home for a surprise visit and finding them pinned together in the local pub. That was October and despite my attempt to will something bad to happen to them, they’re still together.

  Neither have apologised.

  Voodoo dolls tempted me for a few weeks; but then I decided if she wanted second-hand, she could have him. Perhaps the hairdresser and baker go well together. They can have perfectly groomed kids who get fat on too many carbs.

  I snort at the vision as I study them. Taylor’s face transforms as she looks behind me and she drops her hand from Martin’s short brown hair. Wide-eyed and stupid is one expression I’ve seen her use plenty of times, and I turn to see what’s caused this one.

  A chair scrapes and the oxygen-snatching, room-filling Bryn Hughes sits next to me. “Sorry I’m late, cariad.”

  The breadstick catches in my throat and I stare at him through watering eyes. When Bryn plants a kiss on my mouth, my throat constricts further and I choke. Yeah, a rock star puts his mouth on mine and I splutter crumbs all over his face.

  “You okay?” He brushes a stray crumb from his cheek and pours me a glass of water.

  “I’m fine,” I rasp. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

  Or ever again.

  I take a long drink of water, mind whirling as the quiet restaurant focuses on us.

  “I told you last night I’d be here. I don’t see why I should be left out if everybody else is bringing their partners,” continues Bryn.

  I swallow the mouthful of water before it joins the breadcrumbs.

  Partner?

  “I’m looking forward to this.” He grins. “So, introduce me.”

  Bryn encloses my hand in his broad palm and sets it on his knee and I dizzily realise I’m holding my breath as the sensation of this almost-stranger’s lips on mine lingers. Despite the fact it was the briefest of touches, the one touch shocked from my lips to my scalp. His hands are warm and strong, and he’s deliberately close, solid thigh resting against mine.

  I swallow and clear my throat. “This is Bryn.”

  The girls gawk and the guys nod.

  “Umm. Bryn this is Janet, Lee, Rachel, Simon, Taylor, and Martin.”

  Bryn registers each in turn with a friendly hello, a handshake for the guys, and then picks up the menu. “Have you ordered yet?” he asks me.

  “No, just wine.”

  Bryn picks up the bottle and squints at the label. “Is this the house white? We can do better.”

  He summons the waitress and I wonder if, last night, I was as flushed and awed as she is now. An accomplished waitress after five years, I bet Oriana doesn’t drop food on people.

  “I think I’ll have the soup,” Bryn announces with a sly glance at me.

  I dig my nails into his hand and he grips it harder.

  What the hell is this man doing?

  As I scramble to catch up with what’s happening, Bryn takes over, asking my friends to confirm their order to the waitress and orders new bottles of wine. I stare at the hand covering my now sweaty one. I’m about to say something when I take a closer look at Taylor’s and Martin’s reaction.

  Shocked disbelief.

  What? There’s no way someone like Bryn would be interested in me? Coming here tonight involved swallowing a lot of pride and facing more humiliation. Now Bryn’s arrived for whatever reason, the night has gone from painful to excruciating.

  “Can I talk to you for a moment, please?” I ask Bryn.

  “Am I in trouble? Is this about last night?”

  “Last night?”

  “You know, the thing… I can’t meet all your demands, you know. It’s tiring.”

  His brown eyes glint and his amusement is not helping. “Okay!” I say and stand, shoving my chair back. “We need to talk.”

  Bryn stands dwarfing me even in my three-inch heels, and gives the group a sigh and an expression that says ‘look at what I put up with.’ I grit my teeth and push Bryn toward a quiet corner of the restaurant. By push, I mean collide my palm with immovable, solid muscle beneath his smart black shirt. So more of a stroke, I guess.

  There’s no place for complete privacy in the small restaurant so I huddle him into a corner between the kitchen doors and hallway to the bathrooms. We’re still in view of my friends and other diners. Some have politely returned to their meals, but Taylor continues to gawk. I hope Martin is comparing himself to Bryn and realising he doesn’t measure up.

  It’s hard to admonish a man taller than me whose physical presence, unfortunately, is spinning my insides in circles. “What are you doing?” I hiss.

  “I thought you needed moral support.”

  “Moral support? By walking in and pretending we’re a couple? Are you mad?”

  “You clearly are.”

  “Yeah, I’m pissed off. I mean are you insane?”

  “No, it’s just a bit of fun, Avery.”

  “You know nothing about me! What if they start asking questions? And why would anybody believe we were an item?”

  Bryn crosses his arms, rings catching the light. “Am I not good enough for you? I have a decent job, excellent prospects…”

  “You know what I mean! And stop teasing me!”

  “There is no reason at all someone like me wouldn’t know someone like you. There’s no law stating who rock stars can spend time with.”

  I snort because I can’t think of a comeback.

  “Come on, you have to admit, t
his could be fun. Is Taylor the bitch? Her expression was priceless!” I pout at him and he pokes me. “I’m not leaving.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll have to publicly dump me.”

  “What?” I repeat.

  “People are staring,” he says. Of course, they are. I glance around. I may as well be under a spotlight. “We’d better sit down.”

  Before I can respond, he disappears back to the table and resumes his seat. Maybe I should leave instead.

  As I walk back over, I realise I never told Bryn not to kiss me again. Was that deliberate?

  Bryn’s arrival kills the conversation and for a few minutes, everybody drinks and fiddles with cutlery and glasses. Of course, Taylor is the first to speak.

  “You never told me you were involved with a member of Blue Phoenix,” she says. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Not long,” I mumble.

  “A few weeks,” says Bryn and slings an arm across my shoulders.

  I sink under the weight.

  “Unlikely pair,” she continues.

  “I’m not the only one whose choice of a man has been unlikely this year,” I retort.

  She stiffens. “I mean you’re not the most… outgoing person. How did you even meet him?”

  I hold my breath and grapple for a reply and Bryn gives one for me. “We bumped into each other one day, started talking, and the rest is history, as they say.”

  “Where?” continues Taylor.

  “You’re very nosey,” replies Bryn. “Tell me how you and Martin got together?”

  “Oh, I bet you already know,” she says and smiles sweetly. “Avery will have told you.”

  “Let’s leave this,” Martin says. “We came for a meal, be nice.”

  I’m unaware that I’m jiggling my foot beneath the table until Bryn’s hand closes over my leg. “It’s okay,” he says, against my ear. “We’ll shut her up.”

  My brain disconnects momentarily at the sensation of his breath on my skin. Where was I? “Oh yeah.” I’m now determined to rub her nose in it as hard as she’s attempting to rub in mine.

  The group chat about their lives in Pembroke, and Bryn interjects with stories about our marvellous dates together whenever Taylor tries to share something interesting about her and Martin. Apparently, I’ve been to some awesome places recently – exclusive restaurants, country weekends away, even a weekend in Paris. It’s a wonder I’ve had time to study at all.

  As usual, the wine flows and the conversations descend into banter and stories from our pasts. As the evening continues, Martin watches me and Bryn more curiously.

  “Should we be going soon?” I ask Bryn, because his humour is increasingly edgy as he knocks back the beers he’s ordering.

  “Already?” he shuffles closer again. “Oh, I get it; you want me all to yourself, huh?”

  “No. I mean, yes. Crap, Bryn, you know what I’m talking about.”

  “We’re all going back to Taylor and Martin’s; you should come,” says Rachel.

  The room lurches. “You live together now? That was bloody quick!”

  “When you know you’ve met the right person, there’s no messing around,” says Taylor and reinforces this with a gentle kiss to my ex-fiancé.

  Tears prick at my eyes. I swore I wouldn’t get upset about this. I’d be mature; but after the twenty-four hours I’ve had, keeping my emotions under control is difficult. Add to that the rock star playing a weird game with me and I’m ready to let go of the bottled emotions. Loudly.

  “I guess not,” I say, coldly. “Bryn? Can we go?”

  He massages my leg and my skin tingles, before he whispers, “I want to go with them. I don’t think everything is as clear cut as Taylor is making out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can recognise doubt in a guy’s eyes when I see it.”

  Of course. I turn in my chair so our conversation is better hidden. “When you said you had different tastes, did you mean…um…”

  “Did I mean I’m gay?” He studies my mouth and rubs a finger along his lips “Is that what you think?” Bryn hits me with a look that grabs my lungs and squeezes the breath out, simultaneously projecting images of my mouth on his. Crap. I drag my eyes away.

  “I don’t know you, sorry.”

  “Not gay, Avery,” he says. “Just stupid.”

  “Stupid?”

  Bryn ignores my response and slaps both hands on the table in front of him. “I agree. I’d love to come back for a drink with you guys.”

  “Seriously?” I ask.

  “I haven’t had nearly enough fun yet,” Bryn says and stands.

  ****

  Taylor and Martin have moved into a small flat above a local shop on the edge of town, walking distance from the restaurant. I regret wearing the shoes I chose. Walks any longer than five minutes in high heels are never a good plan, in the snow even less so.

  The flat is very Taylor. Co-ordinated neutral furnishings, neat and tidy with several pictures of her and Martin in frames attached to the fridge. I compare this in my mind to my student halls, a box of a room and a bathroom shared with others. Martin visited me there a few times and we spent most of the time in bed. Was he already cheating on me then? The last couple of times he visited, we spent less time in bed and more in the student union. At the time, I thought this was because he’d finally decided he wanted to get to know my new friends, now the real reason is clear.

  Rachel and Simon squash onto the sofa leaving two armchairs. Janet and Lee made their excuses and went home. Taylor disappears to the bathroom and I hover with Bryn, unsure what to do.

  “Beer?” Martin asks Bryn.

  “Sure.” When Martin heads to the kitchen Bryn follows.

  My heart hammers in my chest as I hover. What are they going to say to each other? When Taylor reappears, she takes advantage of the guys’ absence and marches up to me.

  “Bryn Hughes?” she asks doubtfully. “Really?”

  “Really. What? You think I paid him to come with me or something?”

  Taylor laughs. “I don’t know what you did, but whatever it is you have over him, well done.”

  “Have over him? What do you mean?”

  Taylor glances to where Bryn is talking to Martin. “I know you’re not really a couple. You can’t be or I’d have seen a picture of you together somewhere.”

  I cross my arms. “Oh? How do you know we’re not great at hiding our affair?”

  “Seriously? Come on; tell me what’s going on. I’m not stupid! How do you know him?”

  A strong pair of arms slide around my waist as Bryn pulls me into his hard body. My breath catches and cheeks heat but under Taylor’s scrutiny, I’ll bloody show her. I slide a hand along the rigid muscles of his forearm and curl my fingers around, pulling his arm closer.

  “You okay?” he whispers into my ear.

  I would say ‘yes’ but the heat and scent of this man I hardly know is again screwing with my ability to speak.

  “I was asking Avery how you really knew each other,” says Taylor.

  “What do you mean?” Bryn rests his chin on my shoulder, arms remaining around my waist in a relaxed way.

  “If Avery has been dating a rock star, I think I’d know.”

  The words ‘like I knew you were screwing my boyfriend when you were supposed to be my best friend’ almost fall from my mouth and I stop them. “We haven’t spoken much recently, have we, Taylor?” I say instead.

  Taylor scans us, taking in Bryn’s hands on me, but I’m missing everything but the sensation of this man’s body against mine. I fight the desire to bury my face in the sleeve of the arm around me, letting go of the tension and pretending he really is my partner.

  Fine. If he’s playing the game, I will too.

  I twist around and place a hand on his chest, gazing into his eyes in what I hope is a loving way. This is the first time we’ve made eye contact in a way that speaks instead of words, and something in his means I
’m not entirely sure I understand what his game is anymore.

  “I think we should go home,” I say. “I’d like to spend time with you before you have to go back to London.”

  “Back to the hotel, you mean?” he asks softly.

  “Yes.”

  Despite this conversation being a show for my ex-best friend, the words are loaded, trapping me in the moment.

  “One more night?” Bryn strokes some hair from my face, and I all but melt into him.

  “Yes.”

  “I knew it!” says Taylor from behind. “You guys hooked up! You’re not together at all.”

  “If we’d hooked up, why would I be here?” Bryn asks, breaking away and looking at my friend. “I’d have what I wanted and move onto the next in the queue. Avery is a special girl. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like crap.” His intensity has shifted back to me. “I told Martin he was an idiot to throw you away.”

  Who? What? Where? I have no clue where I am right now because Bryn is looking at me as if his words are true; as if I’m somebody he wants.

  “Besides, the things she does to me, you have no idea how difficult it is to keep my hands off Avery.”

  What the…? My thoughts are interrupted by Bryn’s mouth touching mine. Touching. More like assaulting, if I could call the fact it feels bloody amazing an assault. I stumble and he holds the small of my back, steadying me. My first instinct is to put my hands between us and push Bryn away, but my lips have other ideas. There’s no softness to his kiss. This is a full-on mouth-parting, tongue-tangling, and oh-my- God-I’m-kissing-a-rock-star moment of lust. Star struck Avery wants this. I circle my arms around Bryn’s neck, relishing the taste of him as I enthusiastically return his kiss. He makes a noise of surprise and I pause, hoping he’s not about to break the illusion – for me or for Taylor.

  Bryn doesn’t pause and the world disappears as this man’s kiss tears all words and thoughts away. How can there be any when sensation overwhelms me the way it does? This guy knows how to kiss in a way that burrows straight through my clothes and onto my skin, firing desire despite the fact the only part of me touching him skin on skin are our lips.

  “Jesus, get a room!” Martin’s voice jolts reality back in, the man I shared my kisses and more with until a couple of months ago. A secret pleasure at the annoyance in Martin’s voice thrills me.