Chapter 25 #2
‘That a problem, huh? If you’re getting bored of me, maybe I might—’
‘No!’ Her cheeks skip going pink and turn bright red. ‘I’d never get bored of you. So yes, I’d love to come to yours.’
‘Brilliant.’
‘And I guess we won’t have to worry about people seeing us leave together, since it’s on the schedule that you’re taking me home.’
‘That was clever of me.’
‘Actually, I put together the schedule.’
‘Ah, see. I knew there was a reason I loved you.’
‘You what?’ All the colour washes out of her face.
Fuck. I didn’t mean for that to slip out. My eyes must be wide enough for them to bug out of my face. She steps away from me. Shit.
‘I mean… that I… we…’
Get it together, mun. I take a breath and let it loose over a few seconds, scrambling to make sense of the things bouncing around my head.
Love. The word’s been hovering around for the last week or so.
The way I miss her when she’s not around, the need to care for her.
It’s nothing like I’ve ever experienced, but I’m pretty sure it all adds to me being in love with Lucy.
Not exactly something out of a romcom, is it? I’ve watched enough of them to know how to land the big L-word. Should have bought flowers, found somewhere pretty to tell her. Wasn’t my plan to do it while we’re squished together next to a giant red Biffa bin.
But it’s out there now. No take-backsies. Gotta man up and face whatever she might have to say about it. Even if it does break my heart.
‘Yeah, I do love you, Lucy. So much.’
‘Oh.’
Not exactly the response I was expecting. Tears fill her eyes. Good or bad? I can’t tell cos now she’s holding her head in her hands. I can’t— I don’t know what to do about it.
‘I’m… I’m sorry.’ I rest my hand on her back, keeping the touch feather-light in case she doesn’t want me manhandling her right now. But I can’t do nothing. If I leave her crying in the car park, I reckon the others’ll have something to say about it. ‘I didn’t mean for it to blurt out, but I—’
She clamps a hand over my mouth, putting a stop to my impromptu speech. The first tear rolls down her cheek. I hold off brushing it away until she tells me which way this is going.
A smile spreads over her face – the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. More tears follow the first, and her voice wobbles when she replies, ‘I love you too, Rhys.’
‘Really?’ My question’s muffled by her hand.
‘Yeah, of cours—’
I pull her hand from my mouth and kiss her. Hard.
The whimper that escapes me would be embarrassing if anyone else was around to hear it.
My hands are already in the back of her jeans, gliding along soft skin.
Her arse fills both palms and then some, and I squeeze, groaning.
All this touching does nothing to quench my thirst for her, especially with the way she’s grinding on my leg, seeking out the friction I’ve learned over the past few weeks she fucking loves.
I’m hard for her. My dick’s in the game.
I need more: more kissing, more skin, more something.
A million security cameras are probably pointed at us right now. Fuck the lot of them. I leave one of my hands in her pants and drag the other over her hip, her moans telling me to carry on. Her fingers move to the button of my fly, fumbling.
I might burst if she finally takes hold of me.
We’ve been taking it slow, spending our time learning every inch of each other, what we like and don’t like.
There’s been no full-blown sex, yet, but I know how she tastes, how to circle my thumb over her clit to draw long, shuddering moans from her.
I wake every morning, rock solid despite spending the night in her mouth, and the memory of how fucking wet she gets fuels my wanks.
I’ve had so many cold showers, I might as well be a penguin.
My plan was to get her home tomorrow and finally let her have me. But maybe up against the red Biffa bin might have to do.
The crackle of her walkie-talkie forces us apart before she gets to the last millimetre of zip.
Of fucking course. The blood that pooled south to my hard knob now pulses angrily around my veins.
I never ask for much doing this job, just five fucking minutes alone with the girl I love. Can’t even get that.
We pull our hands out of each other’s clothes, and she backs away from me, putting way too much distance between us. I grumble at the loss of her. Some fucking burly bodyguard I am.
The way she looks – flushed face, swollen lips – doesn’t help me calm the fuck down. We’re all hot and bothered from only a bit of kissing and some light petting. I know I can wind her up a whole lot fucking more, but work has to get in the damn way.
Before I can lean in for another kiss, my walkie crackles with something ineligible. I turn it up to catch, ‘Rhys? Where are you?’
Of course it’s Gethin. Been taking cock block lessons from Cai. They’re probably competing over who can get in my way more. I told my boss I was heading out on a break, but he loves cracking the whip. If he had his way, he’d get rid of breaks completely and work us all until we die.
I sigh as I press the button to reply, ‘I’m outside. Is everything okay?’
‘Come straight to the green room. Bring Lucy.’
Another crackle signals his sign-off. Doesn’t give me chance to say I’m on her way.
‘He sounds mad,’ she says. ‘We’re not breaking any rules being out here, are we?’
‘Not yet. We’re allowed a break, but I think messing around like that goes against some sort of policy. And your boundaries. I’m sorry, I got carried away and—’
‘It wasn’t only you, Rhys Pritchett. Probably best we stopped. Save it for later.’
Later. At the house or in Cardiff tomorrow. I can last that long. I think.
‘Are you sure he couldn’t have seen us?’ she adds.
She worries her lower lip until the skin turns white. It’ll hurt if she carries on and I won’t be able to kiss her for a while. I adjust her top, hiding the evidence of our interrupted tryst, then cup her cheek, drawing soothing lines over her skin.
‘No,’ I say in as comforting a voice I can muster. Truth be told, I don’t know if he saw us, but I’m not having her stressing over it. ‘Come on, let’s go and find out what’s got his boxers in a twist.’
Her hesitant nod has me craving to take her hand and keep hold of it all the way to the green room.
To squeeze it and link our fingers together so we can remain close.
But I can’t. She asked for us to be secret, and we’ve not discussed it since.
Probably should, now we’ve shared ‘I love yous’, but who knows when we’ll get long enough to chat properly now it’s almost showtime.
Sucks, but I’ve got to respect it, even if I’m shit at respecting some of the other boundaries she’s set at work.
Anyway, declaring our love for each other in front of the entire green room when Gethin’s in a grump would be the worst decision in our careers. Although, it’ll be nice having someone to go to the Jobcentre with.
The mood in the green room’s miserable when we get there.
Nobody’s cracking a smile. Cai paces from one wall to the other, muttering to himself, while Gethin and Colin, the guitar technician, watch in silence.
Beth sits on a sofa in the corner, biting her nails.
Everyone’s faces are pale, and they all look to the door when me and Luce head in.
‘Woah, who died?’ Seriously, it’s like a funeral home here. Even at Mam’s, it was okay to smile, remember her with a laugh. Though Tad battered me for it after.
‘Cai’s red guitar’s missing,’ Colin says, his words slow and low, as if delivering the worst news ever. To be fair, it’s pretty shit.
‘The Gibson acoustic?’
‘Yeah, that one.’
‘Fuck.’
No wonder the group looks like someone passed away. Not only is the guitar the most expensive in Cai’s collection, but it was a gift from his mam and tad after his first single went platinum. It’s engraved, his prized possession.
How can it go missing? Not like guitars have legs.
‘Did you take it to the house with you last night?’ I ask Cai.
He stops pacing, and wrings his hands over and over. Deep worry lines mark his forehead. ‘No, mate. I never take them out of the venue. I had it at sound check, and I gave it straight to Col.’
‘So it’s gone missing between then and now?’
‘Yes, Rhys! Isn’t it fucking obvious? My picks have gone, too.’ He throws himself on the sofa next to Beth, who immediately wraps her arms around him.
I don’t bite back. Years of looking after him through crisis after crisis has given me patience with him. And a thick skin. He needs his moment, so I leave Beth to fuss over him and turn to Colin. ‘What’s the story, mate?’
‘I completed my stock list after sound check, like normal. Tuning, strings, cables. Everything was there. Signed it off and left one of your team to keep an eye on it while I grabbed a drink. Standard procedure, nothing out of the ordinary. When I got back, the guitar was gone. It’s the only one missing, too. ’
‘Which security guard? Do you remember their name?’ There’s so many of them and they move around during the day. It’s hard to keep track.
‘He didn’t tell me, but he was wearing a pass.
He was’ — he scrunches his eyes. After a moment of thinking, he raises his hand well above his head — ‘tall, dark hair, bit of an accent but I can’t place where it’s from.
Had a pass around his neck, though I didn’t think to check.
If he’s backstage, he must be safe and…’
Shit. Shit. Shit. Lucy straightens. Her response confirms my suspicions, but before I can get the words out, Gethin places a hand on Colin’s shoulder.