Chapter 17 #2
“Fucker,” was the reply I got. I followed his gaze and watched as my sister turned and gave it to some bloke that was trying to grind up against her.
He held his hands up, as if surrendering, when George pointed her finger at him.
He turned his charms on a girl in a silver dress whose face I couldn’t see and I laughed along with Jimmie and George as the girl turned around and grabbed the bloke by the throat before calling over one of the bouncers.
I still couldn’t see the girl’s face, but she had a nice arse.
Jimmie held her hands up in an ‘I give in’ gesture, and the three of them carried on dancing.
“See, they can look after themselves. They’re grown women, not thirteen-year-old girls anymore,” Len said from where he was standing on the other side of Maca.
“They’ll come up here when it gets too much down there. They just wanna have a dance. Come the fuck over here and stop torturing yourself,” he told him.
We moved back over and stood at the end of the bar, where we were promptly surrounded by a group of women who my dad would describe as being dressed like ‘Drury Lane Whores.’
They knew exactly who me and Maca were and couldn’t keep their hands off us.
That type of behaviour from women had always puzzled me.
Some, not many, but some would argue that Bailey and Len were better looking than us, but despite the pair of them standing right next to us, it was me and Maca they wouldn’t leave alone.
Why was that? Was it the money? The Fame?
It was beyond me that people could be that shallow.
“So, I’ve heard you two like to share. How about the four of us get out of here and go have some fun?
” One of the women suggested as she tried to unbutton Maca’s shirt.
I looked across at him and rolled my eyes.
Like we’ve never heard that chat up line before.
They were seriously letting the side down for you, ladies—slutty and unoriginal.
“How about you get your fucking hands off me, right now,” Maca told her.
Before she could move or any of us could say anymore, George appeared, grabbed the woman’s hand and bent it at the wrist, so far back, I thought it was actually gonna snap.
“Get your fuckin’ hands off him,” she said through gritted teeth.
I gave a little grin as I caught Maca smiling at George, a look of complete adoration in his eyes.
“Whoa, whoa, Georgia.” Len jumped in and removed G’s hand from the woman’s.
“Georgia, baby. You are such a bad, bad girl,” Maca said through his grin, while looking at my sister like she was the only other living thing on the planet.
Milo stepped out of nowhere, the way he always seemed to, and escorted the women away from where we all stood.
I grabbed a couple of glasses of Champagne from a passing waitress and passed one each to Jimmie and George.
“Little sister Georgia, what are we gonna do with you and that temper of yours?” I tried to say with authority and not smile as I spoke, but I’d had a few bourbons and a line of class A so yeah, I failed.
“We’re not gonna do anything with that temper of hers,” Maca said while sliding his arm around my sister’s waist, pulling her in so that he could kiss her neck, “because she makes me so fucking horny when she gets all green eyed. I love it.” Maca made a snarling noise into G’s ear and I think I threw up a little in my mouth.
“Fucking ‘ell. I’m sure I must have some important paperwork to file, or security screens to monitor,” Bailey said, giving a little shudder at Maca’s words before turning and heading away from the bar.
I looked at Len and shook my head. “You two are a fucking nightmare,” he told the lovebirds. “We had to practically sit on him just now when he saw some bloke trying to touch you up on the dance floor.”
George wrapped her arms around Maca’s neck and it felt so good to see the way that she smiled at him in that moment.
“Aw, did they, baby? Did you get all jealous?” she cooed at him.
He said something into her ear and she listened intently.
“Fifty quid says they have a barney and leave early,” Len said. I shook my head because knowing those two, he was probably bang on the money.
“Oi, George. You gonna do the honours or what, babe?” A strong Essex accent came from behind my sister.
I turned to look in the direction of where the voice just came from and my heart felt like it plunged down to my balls, back up through my chest, and lodged somewhere in my throat.
Fuck. Me.
She was gorgeous. Not very tall, but she had curves in the exact places a woman should have curves.
She was wearing a silver dress and black patent heels.
Her hair was blonde, and her eyes were sort of a brownish blue, or bluish brown.
I didn’t know, that sounded stupid, but they were either brown with blue flecks or vice versa.
Yep. I got all that from just one look.
I caught George saying that her name was Ashley, and I just stared—not saying a fucking word—just stared.
Maca leaned across and lifted my chin, making me realise that my mouth must’ve been hanging open. What the fuck was wrong with me? I looked at my sister and then at Maca for some help, but they were looking at me like I wasn’t all the ticket.
Speak, that’s what I needed to do … say something.
“Happy Birthday, Ashley. You. Are. Beautiful,” I told her.
I don’t know where everyone disappeared to, but suddenly it was just me and her, standing and staring at each other.
“You’re Marley Layton,” she stated.
“I am.”
“You said I was beautiful.”
“I did.”
“I’m not stupid. That sort of talk won’t get you in my knickers.”
I had to laugh at her bluntness.
“Who said anything about you being stupid?” I questioned.
“Well, you obviously assume that I’m stupid enough to believe that you think that I’m beautiful.”
“I don’t assume any such thing, sweetheart. I told you you’re beautiful because you are. You’re fucking gorgeous.” Bloody woman. Most women lapped that shit up, not questioned it.
“Well, thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, but I’m still not shagging ya.” She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder, moved her bag from one hand to the other, and took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
I lost the smile that was on my face as I watched her watching me from over the top of her glass as she took a sip of her drink.
“Why not?” I asked her. “What’s wrong with me?”
She looked me up and down and shrugged her shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“But?”
“But you’re Marley Layton.”
“That’s usually a help, not a hindrance. Birds usually wanna shag because I’m Marley Layton.”
“Well, not this bird.”
A group of people were headed in our direction and wished her a Happy Birthday, so I turned and ordered myself another drink from the bar, hoping her mates fucked off and left us alone, sharpish.
I needed to talk to this girl some more.
I had no idea why, I just wanted to be near her .
.. I wanted to know her ... I wanted to know about her.
“So, how do you know my sister?” I asked when her mates had all gone off in search of drinks and their other friends. The party was now in full swing and the dance floor was packed. I steered her to the very end of the bar so that I could hear what she was saying.
“You’re kidding me, right?” She asked. I shook my head no in confusion. “I went to school with your sister. I went to the same school as you,” she said, obviously pissed off that I didn’t remember her, judging by her tone.
“George was two years below me. I don’t remember any of her mates,” I told her honestly.
“You and Jimmie were always pretty tight.” She reminded me.
“Yeah, well, Jim had been Georgia’s best mate since she was about four. She used to sleep over at our house, come on holiday with us,” I explained in a hurry.
“So you and Jim … there was never anything between the two of you?” I shook my head no. I’m not gonna go into details about how I felt when I found out about Jim and Lennon. The past was the past and I’d been over that for years.
“Jimmie’s been with my brother since she was fourteen. She’s like a sister to me.” She nodded her head in understanding. “Now will you shag me?” I asked jokingly, but actually, not joking at all.
“Nope,” she said with a smile “I’ll let you dance with me though, Rock Star.” She grabbed my hand and started to lead me over to the dance floor.
“Oh, you’ll let me dance with you, will ya?” I smiled as I asked, gripping hold of her small hand as I followed behind her, definitely not looking at her arse all the way. Not even once, or twice, or a few hundred times.
The Pointer Sisters ‘Automatic’ was playing.
Not too fast and not too slow. I pulled her front to mine, turned her around and grinded into her arse.
I loved the fact that she grinded right back.
The song changed and Frankie Beverly’s voice rasped out the Maze hit, ‘Joy and Pain,’ and the whole dance floor suddenly moved as one as they started this side stepping, line dance type of thing.
Now don’t get me wrong, I can dance, but aside from on stage, I didn’t get much opportunity. When we usually went to clubs, it was pretty much impossible for us to get out on the dance floor without being pestered, even in the VIP areas, so I just didn’t bother too often.
So yeah, I was a little lost for a moment as everyone fell into step, seemingly knowing the moves by heart.
Ashley moved from beside me, and in front of me.
“Eyes on my feet, Rock Star. Just copy what I do.” She winked at me and I did as I was told.
As soon as I picked it up, she stepped back in beside me and we danced along, side by side, for the rest of the song.
It was the most fun I’d had outside the bedroom in a long, long time, and I couldn’t wipe the big fat cheesy grin off my face.
My cheeks ached because I was smiling so much. This girl was like a breath of fresh air.
The song finally ended and Ashley gave me a round of applause.