Out of Chances (10 page)

‘I can.' She tugged his wallet, it felt like leather, out of his pants and opened it up. He didn't try to stop her. She felt around while he distracted her. Eventually she found what she was looking for. Two of … he was hopeful. She put his wallet on the kitchen counter. ‘So, should I turn around, like this?'

Indigo twisted in his arms so her butt rubbed against him. He nipped at her neck as his hands moved lower to grab her hips. He ground against her.

Her heart kicked over. She didn't want to waste the time it would take to walk to the bedroom. His fingers slid into her panties and then lower. She bit her lip and closed her eyes as his fingers danced over her sensitive flesh.

‘I'm fine with here,' she murmured.

‘Me too.' He pushed her panties down and she stepped out of them. The heel of her shoe briefly catching.

In stockings and shoes she felt more exposed than she did naked, but she wasn't going to back down now. She rested her elbows on the counter and wiggled her butt. His zipper ratcheted down. The tearing of the packet was too loud. Her breath hitched and it felt like hours crawled by while she waited.

Then his hands were tracing down her spine and smoothing over her buttocks. He held her hips and pressed into her. Slowly. She sucked in a breath as a shiver of delight coursed through her.

He groaned and started moving. One hand slipping under to caress her clit. He knew what he was doing with his hands. She moved with him. Needing it a little rougher, a little harder. He took the hint, slamming into her.

She rocked back meeting each thrust, loving the way he filled her. The way he was touching her like he knew exactly how to play with her to get her to where she needed to be. She gasped as she came, her fingers curling against the cold, hard laminate of the counter.

‘Fuck, yeah.' He thrust a few more times, then stilled, his grip on her hip tight. He sucked in air like he'd been drowning.

She glanced over her shoulder and his gaze met hers. His eyes were black in the dim light, but there was no mistaking the raw lust and the lifting of his shoulders with each breath.

He eased his grip. ‘Sorry.'

‘It's okay.' She hadn't noticed how hard he'd been holding her until then, and she'd be more than happy to let him do it again.

He didn't pull away like she'd expected him to. There was no race for the door now he was done. His fingers were still tracing shapes on her skin. She sighed, not wanting him to pull out yet … or leave.

‘Did you want that coffee?' She tried to make the request sound casual, but she wanted him to stay.

‘If I drink that now, I won't be sleeping.'

She grinned. ‘That's the point.'

He'd woken up without a hangover but in a strange bed. Usually the two went hand in hand. It had been a little unnerving, especially as he hadn't planned on staying over. Staying over implied there was more going on than there was. Which there wasn't. He did not need a girlfriend.

Indigo seemed to agree. She had to go to work so couldn't lie around in bed and she wasn't going to let him get in the way of her schedule. She'd pretty much kicked him out with a kiss on the cheek and a cheery, ‘Enjoy your walk of shame.'

He'd be lying if that still wasn't making him smile.

After getting home and having a shower and some breakfast he checked his email, actually read them instead of just scanning them. Ed would be impressed.

The amps had sold.
Sweet.

He replied and let the buyer knew he could collect them anytime this afternoon.

He still had money in his wallet from last night. Limiting himself to two drinks while out saved money—and apparently a headache too. He actually felt half decent instead of like a broken old toy.

Maybe all he'd needed was someone to play with. He held the thought and noted it down. There was something in that. He closed his eyes. He'd written something similar a couple of weeks ago … where had he been? Pizza and red wine … yes. He opened his eyes, flicked back through the notebook and folded down the page so he could pull it together later.

Right now all he wanted to do was get out of the flat and get some fresh air. A walk down the hill along the river would be fine. Being with Indigo made him feel out of shape and lazy. However, he could stop for a drink at the fancy pub on the way home with the money he'd saved last night. He scooped up his notebook and headed out.

When he got home there was a car he didn't recognise in the visitor bay out the front of Mike's flat. But maybe they'd just parked in the wrong place. As he turned the corner he saw Gemma. Damn, she must have driven Kirsten's new car.

‘I was about to send out the search party.' She peeled herself off the wall she'd been leaning on.

‘I have a phone.'

‘Would you have answered?'

‘No. I was enjoying some quiet time.'

Her gaze landed on the book in his hand, but she didn't say anything. She knew he liked to go and sit and write, and she also knew none of it was personal. She found that odd, he found the way she kept a journal filled with personal information odd. If he'd done that, and his father had found it, he'd have been supplying the ammunition for his own execution.

After walking for a half hour or so, he'd sat for longer and worked on a song. Even if Ripley's connection didn't come off, he had to believe someone would like something he'd written. Which meant he was also going to have to finish off some more pieces so he had a better selection. That had been his plan for this afternoon.

‘What do you want, Gem?' He wasn't interested in anything she had to say. And he wasn't going to be baring his heart to her again. He had to stop letting people get away with treating him like shit. He needed to stand up for himself because it was clear that no one else would.

She looked down and scuffed her sneaker against the asphalt, disturbing the loose gravel and broken glass.

‘I had to tell Mike and Ed.'

‘It wasn't yours to tell. I trusted you. It wasn't bad enough for Lisa to gut me, but you had to take a stab too?'

She was quiet for a moment. ‘Your drinking is affecting everyone.'

‘I fail to see how.' He crossed his arms. ‘No one said boo when Mike was knocking back whatever was in his hand and feeling up some chick with the other.'

‘He wasn't turning up to practice, or the studio, drunk.'

‘I wasn't drunk.' He had never turned up drunk. After a few, for sure. He didn't want Lisa to be his every thought and alcohol had smothered that nicely. Indigo was doing an even better job.

Gemma narrowed her eyes. ‘You were liquored up enough that it showed.'

He blinked. ‘What do you mean?'

‘I mean that it wasn't Mike slowing us down in the studio. Yes, he was having problems concentrating, but his mother was dying. You were fumbling.'

‘Bullshit. Why not say something at the time if it was an issue.' He knew how much he could drink before it affected how well he played.

‘We were doing long days because after a few hours you'd be sobered up enough to play. We worked around it, hoping you'd get yourself sorted.'

‘And to help, you told everyone about Lisa and the baby. Thanks, Gem, you're a real pal.' He didn't need friends like that … somehow, though, he had to find a way to work with her, tour with her. He missed her as a friend and that's what hurt the most, but he couldn't get past the betrayal. It was the principle of the thing.

‘They wanted to know what was wrong with you. They knew there was more to it.'

‘So let them wonder.' It wasn't that hard to say nothing. ‘Jesus. How would you feel if I broadcast your secret?'

‘It's not a secret.' She pressed her lips together and crossed her arms.

‘Then why haven't you gone public?'

‘‘Cause who I sleep with isn't anyone else's business. What you were doing was affecting everyone. If you hadn't been so wrapped up in yourself, maybe we could've finished faster and Mike could've got home before his mother died.'

Dan stepped back as though hit. They'd been in Melbourne recording the album when Mike's mother had died. ‘That's below the belt.'

But he couldn't shake off the blow. Did Mike think that? He hadn't said anything when he'd come around. But then, Mike could sit on something for ages until he was ready to speak.

‘I'm just saying we noticed and we are worried. Ed and Mike needed to know.'

‘I'm glad you can justify it.' He put the key in the lock and opened up the door. She wasn't just a band mate, she was also a friend. Had been a friend. He needed a friend, and someone to talk to. But it couldn't be her. ‘I'm not ready to forgive you.'

‘Have you forgiven yourself?'

He drew in a breath. No. He hadn't, but he was closer than he'd been a week ago. ‘Not yet.'

‘Then she is still holding you in her fist, the same as always.'

He sighed and leaned against the doorframe, unable to go in and shut Gemma out but equally unable to invite her in. ‘I know. I'm working on it.'

‘Ed is watching you.' Her expression softened.

‘Waiting for me to screw up?'

She shook her head. ‘Don't be like that. Just … cut back. Find something else to do.'

He had, by accident. Indigo was distracting him. It had been several months since he'd woken up and felt so light, but it hadn't lasted. And now Gemma was digging in the wound. He didn't know what she hoped to find. He sighed, not knowing what to say. Or what she wanted to hear.

He wasn't sure that he cared.

‘I'll see you around, okay?' She hesitated.

He didn't move.

Once they would've hugged and laughed. But was she going to tell Ed everything that had been said? They'd supported Mike through his mother's death. But him; they were telling him to move on and get on with it.

It was hard to move on when Lisa was hanging around his family and sending him little texts. She wanted to get together for coffee or something. He kept saying no. They had nothing to discuss.

She'd made her choice and he'd made his. He wished he'd split up with her earlier, when the wheels had first started shaking. Then this mess would never have happened, and his father wouldn't have opened his wallet and waved a fist full of hundreds at Lisa. If she'd had any self-respect she'd have told his father no instead of listening. But he knew how persuasive his father could be, and they had both wanted the same thing from him: quit the band.

‘Take care.' She turned and walked away a few steps. ‘Don't be a stranger.'

That was exactly how he felt. He didn't know who he was anymore. Apparently the kind of guy who had a fuck buddy he took places to make it look as though he had a girlfriend. His resolve not to have beer when he went in wilted.

He should invite Gemma in. She'd stop him. He'd prove how okay he was.

That was when he knew that he really wasn't okay and he wasn't dealing with anything very well. But he couldn't say that. Not to her. Not now.

Lisa was costing him one of his best friends. He could almost hear her laughing.

Invite Gemma in …

The words wouldn't form. He watched as she got into her car and pulled away.

With his guitar on his lap and his laptop open, Dan was pulling together the bones of the song he'd been working on. After the struggle for Selling the Sun's second album he hadn't really written anything. There was a peace in finding the music again—even if it was what he liked to call the sweet stuff. The sound might be lighter, but the lyrics could still take a dip.

He didn't want to get as dark as ‘Seppuku' again. There had been too much of his blood in those lyrics.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at it, saw Ripley's name and the first few words of the message. It was enough to make him stop and read the full thing.

Forwarded on your details and had a chat with Nate. He's going to check out some STS. I have Tuesday off, let's go out dancing. I need a screw

Dan smiled. Some things never changed.

Cheers 4 that. Tuesday is good. Pick up on your own time

Ur no fun :(

They both knew Ripley would find what he was looking for anyway. Things like that fell in his lap. Indigo had fallen in his, which he was enjoying very much.

How was ur date?
Ripley asked before Dan had even formulated a reply.

Not a date. Interesting. Not bringing her.
He liked her, but neither of them wanted more. Taking her clubbing with his friends would be too much. Honestly, he wasn't in a place where he felt like he could date. He was still trying to shove his heart back in his chest so no one could step on it. He was getting there. Seeing Indigo was definitely helping. Not that he was going to admit that; it made him sound like he needed to be with someone to be whole.

Do it. I'll get a group together.

Oh God. Dan wasn't sure he was up to a mass outing. The idea of hitting the clubs with a bunch of people, probably dancers, that he didn't know made him uncomfortable. He didn't like crowds. He liked being out with a couple of people.

I'll see.

Hopefully Ripley would realise he meant no way in hell.

She might have other plans, or he may not even bother asking her. If they went on too many not dates, things could get muddy. Keep it casual, a phone call and a hook-up. At the moment, that was about as much relationship he could manage. The phone rang in his hand. He answered straightaway, thinking it was Ripley seeking to put the pressure on.

‘Have you see today's paper?' A female voice filled his ear.

Dan pulled the phone away to check who it was—not Indigo, that was for sure. Lisa. He smacked himself in the forehead. How could he have missed that? He briefly debated hanging up but it was too late now. ‘No. I've been working.'