Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
BETTSY
There’s a vibrating in the distance.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
And Christ, it’s annoying.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
It’s getting closer.
At least, I think it is.
Then there’s a clatter of something hitting the floor, startling me out of my half-dream state, causing my heart to thud so hard in my chest I can hear my pulse in my ears.
My eyelids are stuck shut; a coarse dryness that has me rubbing my eyes to induce tears.
And my mouth is like the literal desert.
Fuck.
The vibrating starts again, across the floor this time, and I roll over, blindly reaching out to where I think the noise is coming from.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I clasp my phone in my hands, brushing the carpeted floor with my fingers in the process .
Wait … carpet? I don’t have carpet in my bedroom.
Where the hell am I?
I blink, trying to clear my vision, trying to decipher my whereabouts.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I glance at the name on the screen.
Johnny.
Fuck.
Johnny’s going to kill me.
I panic and hit decline because he’s going to ask where I am … he’s going to ask me a million questions that I can’t answer.
I survey the room. The bed sheets are white and crisp. There’s a dressing table next to the window with girl shit on—the type of stuff my sisters have. Bottles and sprays and hair bits and—the memory of last night comes flooding back to me like a tidal wave of nightmares.
The flirting. The over-sharing. The kebab I insisted on ordering.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
“Oh, crap,” a voice says.
Ellie.
I’m in bed with Ellie.
The echo of her giggling swims to the forefront of my mind.
Giggling. Giggling…
Did we? I peep under the duvet and see that I’m naked, apart from my boxers … and I don’t remember doing that.
“Fuck,” I say.
Fuck, indeed.
‘…I may as well have one for the road…’
Famous last words and typical of me. Literally no will power. Not only did I drink a third of the Macallen—which was divine, I may add—but the tequila shots and I’m pretty sure I moved over to the small collection of brandy.
The conversation echoes around in my foggy brain.
“You did not fancy me!” she said .
We’d revisited that point—several times.
“I did. And honestly, I wish I’d kissed you for real that day.”
“No, you don’t,” she said.
“Oh, yeah?”
It was all giggles and smiles and close faces. Completely out of character from the Ellie that was sharing the space in the kitchen with me mere hours before.
And she tilted her head in such a way that had me leaning in close several times. Almost to the point where our lips were touching.
Almost.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
For fuck’s sake. I can’t even reminisce in peace.
There’s a scrambling beside me and Ellie bolts upright in bed, pulling the duvet with her as she covers her chest. I will myself to remember if I got a peek at her boobs, but I’m sure I’d recall with minimal effort if I did.
“Oh, my God,” she says, her head moving at the speed of a trickle towards me.
Her eyes widen when our gazes meet.
“Morning, sweetheart.” I can’t stop myself from smirking, but she jerks her head away, setting her attention on the empty patch of wall directly ahead of her.
“Oh, crap,” she says again.
She scrambles out of bed, muttering something under her breath—a rare swearword, I believe, leaving me laying here in my underwear, my morning wood proud and snug against the grey cotton.
Ellie’s eyes drift south and stop on my bulge and the fact that I’m exposed, unprotected from her view has my dick thickening further.
“Fuck,” she says, under her breath this time, but I don’t miss it.
“See, I only told you it was little so you’d be pleasantly surprised. ”
Her jaw drops, and she shakes her head before dashing out of the room at speed, almost falling over the threshold as my phone starts ringing again.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I swear Johnny’s name looks angrier than it did a moment ago, flashing on my screen with rage reserved for the captain. And because I can’t face him right now, I let it ring off, enjoying the silence only for a short while before it rings again, winning my attention—although I should know better.
My sister, Kelly—or at least I think it is—until I answer and Johnny’s voice booms down the line at twenty decibels louder than it needs to be.
“Thank fuck,” he says, after I croak out a greeting.
“What’s going on? You need me for something?” I say, trying to sound casual.
“Need you for something? You’re kidding, right? Kelly’s been out of her mind … Hutch said you were at your folks’ house, but your mom said you didn’t show up. Then you weren’t answering my calls?—”
“Well, I’m fine,” I lie. “Never better, actually.”
“Where the hell are you?” Johnny says.
“I’m just at a friend’s house—I’m heading back to my parents’ place now.” I sit up in bed before setting my feet on the floor, trying to ground myself.
“A friend’s house? If I find out it’s Rochelle, then I’ll?—”
Fucking Johnny—leaping to the mother of all conclusions.
“No. Not Rochelle … it was honestly just a friend’s house.”
Friend? Wife? Same thing, right?
“For fuck’s sake, Betts?—”
“Just so you know, my battery is going to die soon so you can’t waste precious moments shouting at me,” I say, cutting him off.
“Well, I need to talk to you,” Johnny says.
There’s a clock on the wall that tells me I have absolutely no time for chit-chat .
“Mate, I need to get back to my folks’ place and then get home to grab my shit. Coach wants me to stop off and see him before I leave.”
“Do you need me to come and pick you up?” he asks.
I consider it, but figure if Johnny sees the state I’m in, Coach isn’t the only one who’s going to kick my ass, so I pass.
“Right, well, call me when you’re home. I only need ten minutes.”
We say our goodbyes and I hang up, knowing that I absolutely will not be calling him when I’m home.
All I need to do is call Hutch, get him to pack up my essentials and meet me at the rink with my stuff. That way I won’t risk bumping into Johnny.
I begin drafting a message, but before I can add so much as a single time, Ellie appears in the doorway, still wrapped in the duvet.
“You need to leave,” she says, sort of half-waddling into the room under the restriction of the duvet. “I just remembered my sister is due any minute, and you can’t be here.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, blinking at her.
“Mike. Please. You need to go … if she finds you here?—”
“She’s not your mam, Kitch. Surely you can have guys over … in your own house?”
Ellie purses her lips. “You don’t understand … last night—it shouldn’t have got to that point. I mean—the booze and…”
Damn. She looks like she’s almost pleading with me.
She meets my eyes; her face blotchy and her eyes watering a little.
And because I’m a gentleman, I nod. I’m an embarrassment. Not someone anyone would actually want to be seen with—I get it.
“Can I at least get dressed first? I mean—I can’t leave like this.” I gesture to my dick, still proud, despite my rejection.
Ellie glances towards me briefly before looking away again .
“Well, yeah, but quickly—please, Mike. You can go out through the back garden, as she will park out front.”
She scrambles around in a drawer, pulling out a t-shirt and slipping it over her head, layering it on top of the duvet, before shimmying the quilt to her waist.
Then something creeps into my consciousness.
“Wait, what does it matter if I’m here? I’m a friend, aren’t I? As a minimum. Hey—maybe I want to see how your sister is. It’s been a while.”
I stand up and reach for my trousers, stepping into them and pulling them up over my hips.
“Is she still a controlling bitc?—”
She scowls at me. And it’s clear that this isn’t up for debate.
“Okay, okay, I’m going,” I say, pulling my shirt on.
I don’t waste time with the buttons, pushing my arms into the sleeves of my jacket instead before sitting back down on the bed to pull my socks and shoes on.
By the time I’m standing again, Ellie’s pulled on a pair of leggings and tidied her hair back, making her neck all exposed and stuff.
There’s a brief moment when she catches my eye, parting her lips slightly before speaking.
“I … thanks again for yesterday. With the tyre,” she says. “And thanks for listening to my worldly problems.”
“Yeah, no problem,” I say. “Oh, I know a guy at the High Street Tyre Centre. If you call in and tell him Bettsy sent you … he’ll get you fixed with a new wheel. Sorry I can’t help with the web-site stuff though.”
She nods, muttering a thanks before dashing towards her bedroom door.
I follow her lead, down the narrow staircase and dipping into the living room as Ellie hangs by the front door.
“Good luck tomorrow, Mike,” she says.
And I want to say something back. I want to tell her I … but I can’t find the words, so I smile and turn away.
Then I leave.