TWELVE

Lexi 

‘IS IT OVER already?’ 

We bump into Dan, the guy Mylo’s been sorta dating, on our way out. The swell of the crowd propels us towards the exit as my phone vibrates in my pocket.

‘Yeah. Cerys left and her so-called boyfriend ran out after her. No singer, no songs,’ Sam says. 

Dan looks at us, puzzled.

‘I’ll explain later,’ Mylo says, slipping his hand into Dan’s. 

I pull out my phone to find a message from Luc.

More of a command than a message, really.

Stay. You need to come backstage.

I didn’t even realise the SU had a backstage. 

‘Uh, guys,’ I say, hanging back and frantically searching for a plausible excuse to not leave. I haven’t told them about selling myself for money yet because I know exactly how it sounds. 

Like I’m selling myself for money.

Besides, Sam’s already so pissed off with Jake that I’m actually a bit scared of what she’ll say.

They’re looking at me.

‘What’s wrong?’ says Sam, looking genuinely concerned. And now I feel really bad for not telling them already. She’s going to be furious when she finds out. She knows me too well. 

I turn back. Most of the crowd are ahead of us now, having passed us when I stopped walking.

The bar’s still open, though.

‘I’m going to grab a drink before I leave. I’m really thirsty.’ It’s a pathetic excuse, but I haven’t got a clue what else to say. 

‘We can wait,’ Sam replies, smiling. 

‘No, no, really. It’s OK. And I’m going in a different direction to you all anyway.’ I’m speaking too fast. Sam narrows her eyes at me. Oh no. She knows. 

‘But Mylo lives with you,’ she says slowly. 

Crap.

‘We’re going back to mine tonight,’ says Dan. 

Dan, you freaking legend.

‘Yeah, he lives in your direction too,’ Mylo says to Sam. ‘We can head over together.’ 

I want to kiss them both.

Sam looks at me for a moment. She’s not buying my story at all. ‘Well,’ she says, after a moment’s hesitation, ‘OK. But text me when you’re home, Lex. So we know you got back safe. Try to catch up to Cerys.’

Guilt prods at me for not leaving to find Cerys immediately, but I nod anyway. Besides, she might be with Jake.

They leave, Dan producing an umbrella. The guy is a genius. Mylo did good.

After they’re safely outside and out of sight, I turn and head back into the Main Hall. There are still some stragglers, and as far as I can tell, the only way to get backstage is via the actual stage.

A roadie appears and heads for Gethin’s guitar.

‘Um, excuse me!’ I hurry over before he gets to it. ‘How do I get backstage?’ 

He looks down at me from the stage. Torn jeans and a torn t-shirt to match. ‘Who are you?’

‘I, uh…’ Crap. Do I say I’m Luc’s girlfriend? Does he know? My mouth hangs open while I weigh up my options. 

Thinking on my feet definitely isn’t a skill of mine.

Or lying on my feet, at least.

‘She’s with me,’ comes a sexy, smooth voice from the right, behind the roadie. 

Luc.

His dark grey t-shirt fitting perfectly over his perfectly formed upper body as he approaches. He nods at the roadie, who raises an eyebrow and retrieves the guitar he came for.

Luc walks to the edge of the stage. To where I am.

‘Hey babe,’ he says, reaching an arm down to me, a thick vein running down the length of his bicep, another two in his forearm. I take his hand, but scrunch my nose at the pet name. 

His touch is electric. Warm. His grip self-assured.

‘No?’ he says, pulling me up. ‘Honey?’ 

‘Hmm, no, that’s not right either.’ 

He laughs. ‘OK. So what then?’

I shrug. ‘Don’t know. Feel free to keep trying, though.’

He smiles at me. We’re standing almost chest to chest, and his face is even more beautiful this close.

He smells so good. I half-consider leaning forward, just a little, just to see if he’ll kiss me.

For almost a moment, he seems to be thinking the same thing. I’m sure he’s leaning just a fraction towards me, and I brace myself for our lips to touch. His perfect, full, soft lips…

My eyelids flutter, almost closing, then his gaze slips behind me. I stop just in time—thankfully avoiding making a complete fool of myself—and follow it, turning my head to see the seven or so people still in the Main Hall. Watching us. Staring at us, even. Silently. One girl leans over to her friend, whispering something, not taking her eyes off us. Another raises her phone. Realising she’s about to take a photo, I whip my head back to face Luc.

His smile is gone.

‘Creepy fucks,’ he whispers, still watching them. He looks at me again, his face softening slightly. ‘C’mon,’ he says, lowering his voice. 

He takes my hand in his, slipping his fingers smoothly through mine, squeezing gently, leading us backstage. It shouldn’t feel so natural, so right. It should feel awkward and uncomfortable. Instead, it feels like he’s some hot new guy who can’t get enough of me. Who wants me badly. It’s tempting to let myself fall under the spell and let my heart think it’s real.

But I mustn’t. Hot new guy? Yes, although not as new as before. Can’t get enough of me? Wants me badly? Not likely. If that were true, I’d be the girl he’s really dating, not the one he’s paying just to get free of his ex.

As we get closer to the stage exit, fast footsteps approach from behind. Luc pulls me closer to him as we turn around. It almost feels protective, and my stupid stomach actually flips. Damn it.

Coming towards us is Jake. Dripping wet. His t-shirt soaked through, dark hair dripping onto his shoulders, his face, the floor. He leaves a trail of rainwater in his wake.

And his face…it’s like a cross between thunder and despair. I almost want to hug him.

Hell knows what happened out there with Cerys, but she’s not with him now. Really need to text her. I shouldn’t be here. I should have gone straight home to make sure she’s OK, but she won’t want to be around anyone if they’ve argued. Cerys doesn’t really share like that.

Jake storms past us, droplets flying everywhere.

Luc takes a deep breath and gives me a knowing look, and we follow.

‘What the fuck was that, man?!’ a voice shouts as we join Jake backstage. 

Gethin. Last time I saw him he was all smiles and hugs and laughter with Cerys.

‘Don’t,’ Jake growls, his sodden clothes and hair forming a puddle around his feet that threatens to spread to me as we stand near him. 

Gethin walks across the room towards us, and Luc gently tugs my hand, pulling me away as Gethin gets far too close to Jake for comfort.

‘“Don’t”? Are you fucking kidding me?’ Gethin’s voice is dangerously quiet. Far too controlled for his body language. 

Luc walks us away from the confrontation, to the other side of the room where Harry’s lying across two chairs, tossing a tennis ball against the wall and catching it repeatedly. He’s not even slightly phased by what’s happening just a few feet away.

‘Just…fucking no. No. Not now.’ Jake speaks through gritted teeth. 

Harry notices us and swings his legs off one of the chairs. He smiles at me, offering me a seat. I look at Luc and he nods, standing behind it.

As I sit, Harry leans forward. He looks up at Gethin and Jake, resting his forearms on his knees and rolling the ball between his hands. Luc gently settles a hand on my shoulder, using the other to free the length of my hair caught between me and the back of the chair.

Miseducation—or who I assume are Miseducation, at least—are on the other side of the room, mid-pack-up. Like most of the other people back here—roadies, SU staff—they’ve stopped what they’re doing to watch Jake and Gethin. Waiting to see what happens.

I’m so glad I’m not a part of this mess.

‘You ever fucking do something like that again—’ 

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Geth!’ Jake interrupts, gesticulating with his arms. ‘I’m sure you can sort it out. You always do.’ 

‘I shouldn’t have to sort out anything!’ Gethin booms. He takes a long breath. ‘Decide what it is you fucking want,’ he says, his voice closer to normal, ‘because this isn’t sustainable.’ He sizes Jake up for a second or two longer, then steps back. He walks away, shaking his head, before exiting into another room and slamming the door behind him. 

Jake runs his fingers through his soaked hair, wipes his face and pulls his shirt off. ‘For fuck’s sake,’ he mutters, walking out, scrunching the wet t-shirt into a ball.

Some quiet chatter starts back up after he’s gone. Miseducation resume packing up.

Luc squeezes my shoulder softly. ‘You all right?’ he asks, drawing up next to me. I nod.

‘Lexi, right?’ Harry says, bouncing the ball against the ground now. 

‘Yeah,’ I respond. 

Harry gives Luc a pointed look.

‘It’s not what you think,’ says Luc. 

‘What am I thinking?’ 

Luc ignores the question. ‘Lexi’s going to come to a few events and gigs to give any onlookers the impression that she’s my new girlfriend.’

‘You’re right,’ says Harry, catching the ball and leaning back. ‘That isn’t what I was thinking.’ He looks at me. ‘Hate to tell you this, but you’re doing a bad job so far, sweetie.’ 

‘Oh?’ I look to Luc, confused. Luc narrows his eyes at Harry. 

‘Yep. You’re nothing like his ex. She never came to our gigs.’ 

Luc frowns. ‘That’s not true.’ There’s a defensive edge to his voice. Not over her, maybe. Can’t help wondering why they broke up.

‘It’s true for the last couple of years,’ Harry says, tossing the ball up in the air and catching it again. 

Luc doesn’t say anything. The silence is awkward.

I pull out my phone to message Cerys.

What happened? Is everything OK? x

I know it’s not, but what the hell else am I supposed to say?

Really glad I’m not a part of this mess. Except I kind of am. Now.

I put my phone away. Cerys won’t reply any time soon.

Across the room, Miseducation are leaving. Probably wondering if touring with oh-so-happy No Reckless is such a great idea after all.

The door Gethin slammed earlier opens back up and he walks out, heading for us. His face is less thunderous than a few moments ago.

‘Can we start packing up?’ Harry says. 

‘No.’ Gethin looks at me, pausing for a second. ‘Lexi, right?’ 

‘She’s Luc’s new girlfriend,’ says Harry, rolling his eyes. 

Gethin looks confused. ‘What?’

‘No,’ I say, not really sure if I’m supposed to speak but speaking anyway, ‘I’m just…I’m, like, pretending to be his girlfriend.’ I’m not entirely sure how to word it. There’s no way to say it without sounding like I’m selling myself. 

Technically, I am.

Gethin just looks even more confused.

‘Hayley won’t leave me alone,’ Luc tries to explain, ‘so I’m trying something new.’ 

Gethin and Harry exchange a look.

I shift in my seat. Really wishing I hadn’t agreed to this.

Luc gently rests his hand on my shoulder, and I wonder if he’s aware of my discomfort.

‘So,’ Harry says after a moment, ‘the gear?’ 

Gethin shakes his head. ‘Uh, yeah. We can leave it if you want. I’ve sorted it out with the promoter. We’ve got a make-up gig in a few weeks.’

‘What about practice?’ says Harry. 

The sound of footsteps interrupts as Jake rejoins us, still damp but not dripping on the floor any more. He looks at me, then at Luc, but says nothing.

‘We’ll manage with whatever’s in your basement,’ Gethin is saying. 

Harry gets up. ‘Fine. Everyone ready?’

I stand, though uncertain if I’m included in the everyone part. 

‘You lot go ahead. I want to double-check my kit,’ says Luc. 

‘We can wait.’ 

‘It’s fine. I’ll speak to you later.’ 

‘OK. Kath—the promoter—is in her office,’ Gethin says. ‘Let her know when you’re leaving and she’ll lock up.’ 

The three of them leave. Just the two of us now.

‘C’mon,’ says Luc, walking back out front, towards the stage. 

‘What do you need to check?’ I say, hurrying after him, our footsteps echoing in the empty hall as we emerge onto the stage. 

‘Nothing. You just seemed fascinated with the drum stuff last time. Thought you might wanna play.’ 

He heads over to his drum kit. I hang back.

‘I’m really not very musical,’ I say slowly, looking at the mess of metal that he somehow turns into an actual rhythm when he’s hitting it. 

He walks back over to me, taking my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world—like it isn’t making my insides a mess of fireworks—and pulling me towards the stool.

‘Luc, I’m really not,’ I protest, but letting him take over anyway. 

‘You’re practically built for drumming,’ he says, guiding me to sit down behind the confusing contraption. 

‘I am?’ 

He nods, putting the drumsticks in my hands. ‘Tall. Long arms.’

‘No natural rhythm?’ I interject, raising my eyebrows. 

‘This is just for fun,’ he says, stepping back and assessing the set-up. ‘Hang on.’ He disappears backstage then reappears with a chair, placing it behind me and sitting on it. 

He shifts forward until he’s pressed up against me.

Oh God.

‘OK,’ he says, his breath just gently brushing at my neck. I fight every fibre of my being to stop the shiver that’s threatening to shake my body and betray everything. His hands reach around me, finding mine and aligning with them. Controlling me from behind. 

How am I supposed to concentrate with some sexy drummer actually touching me?

He shifts closer.

‘I’ll just show you some rudiments to start,’ he says quietly, his voice low and near. 

‘Some what?’ 

‘We’ll start super simple. Just some paradiddles.’ 

‘What?!’ It’s like he’s speaking a foreign language. Stupid sexy drummer boy language. 

He starts guiding my hands. Left right left left right left right right…

‘Relax your arms,’ he says. 

I watch my hands move. ‘Is this a para…thingy?’

I feel the nodding of his head next to mine. ‘Paradiddle.’

Such a stupid word.

He shifts slightly closer, getting a better grip on me.

‘See, you’re a natural,’ he says, changing up the rhythm slightly. 

‘I’m not doing anything!’ I protest, laughing. 

‘Oh, you will. I’m just giving you a feel for it.’ 

I let my head tip slightly to one side, towards Luc. His lips brush against my neck.

‘Shouldn’t my arms be crossed or something?’ I say. Anything to not completely lose myself. 

‘Not for this.’ 

‘Oh,’ I frown, ‘but every drummer I’ve seen—rock drummers, I mean—they all have their arms crossed.’ 

‘Not for this sort of thing.’ His voice is like caramel. How can he sound so hot saying something so dull? 

‘And what it this, exactly?’ 

‘This is just a few rudiments. They’re like little exercises.’ 

I turn my head to look at him as he keeps control of my arms, beating the snare drum. He smells so good. ‘But…how does this help you drum for real?’

Luc changes the rhythm slightly, and I turn my head forward again to try to follow what he’s doing. ‘Practice and performance are two different things.’

Like us then, I frown to myself. 

‘So show me something real.’ 

He pauses for a moment. ‘OK.’ He shifts even closer, crossing our arms in front of me. ‘You’re going to have to use the kick drum.’

‘The what?’ 

‘The bass drum. The pedal.’ 

He takes me slowly through a basic rock beat, showing me when to use my foot as he continues to guide my hands. Slowly at first, then steadily getting faster.

I let myself settle into the rhythm, trying to engage my arms more while still hitting the bass drum in time. As repetition takes over and my body relaxes a little, my mind begins to wander.

‘Lucas,’ I say quietly as his hands shift, fully interlocking with mine, both of us holding the drumsticks now. ‘Do you do this with all of your girls?’ 

‘All of my girls?’ His mouth so close to my ear, his arms still moving mine in an increasingly complex rhythm. 

‘You know what I mean.’ 

‘No, Alexis. I don’t have any other girls.’ His legs tighten slightly around my hips. 

‘Have you ever done this before?’ My voice is barely above a whisper. 

‘No.’ He rests his head against mine, and I somehow manage to resist the urge to pull his arms tightly around my body, away from the drums. ‘I don’t usually let anyone touch my drum kit.’