Shuffle (Ruby Riot #2)

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Authors: Lisa Swallow

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Shuffle

 

A Ruby Riot Novel

 

Lisa Swallow

 

Copyright © 2016 Lisa Swallow

Cover designed by Najla Qamber Designs

Photo by Lindee Robinson Photography

Models:
Ashley Patchak and Andy Glass

 

Editing by Hot Tree Editing

 

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

Shuffle

(Ruby Riot #2)

 

 

Will Campbell, Ruby Riot bassist, is back at university and failing badly at everything apart from partying.

 

With Ruby Riot on a break, Will returns to university to finish his degree. He needs major help if he wants to pass his final year and attempts to join a not-very-rock star study group. Will is horrified to discover the person organising the group is Fleur Roberts, the girl he’s secretly crushed on for two years and who recently threatened him with a restraining order.

 

Fleur’s rock stars are history academics. She has no interest in any variety of pierced, tattooed slacker, especially not the jackass rock star who humiliated her at a party. There’s no way in Hell that Will Campbell is joining her group.

 

Faced with losing the easiest way to fix his academic problems, Will has the perfect solution: pretend he’s his twin, Nate. Will and Nate have swapped identities before so nothing can go wrong. Surely.

 

Fleur is successful academically, but her love life is a failure. Following a number of disastrous dates, she finds herself falling in love with a guy who is lying to her. But Will’s deceit isn’t the only thing about to shatter her world.
When another man Fleur trusted betrays her, and she attempts to retaliate, Fleur discovers how dangerous he is. And when Will becomes involved, the repercussions threaten both of their futures.

 

Shuffle is the second standalone book in the Ruby Riot series and can be read separately to the first book.

 

 

Dedication

 

To the January girls.

We will all get there.

 

 

 

Shuffle

ʃʌf(ə)l

 

• move (people or things) around so as to occupy different positions or to be in a different order.

• play or arrange (tracks on a music player) in a random order.

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

FLEUR

 

Freshers’ Week at an English university is a rite of passage for first year students, an introduction to the hedonism they’ve worked their butts off to achieve. The week often lands them in a messy evening, or seven, and leads to some of the most entertaining and unwanted pictures ever unleashed on the world.

It should be mandatory for their social media accounts to be locked for the duration of the week because the pictures will live in the annals of the internet for years to come, ready for a potential employer to dig up and decide they don’t want someone who does
that
in their employ.

I avoided the heavier part of the Fresher’s scene in my first year. Now, three years in, my finals loom at the end of this academic year. At this point, the future sharpens into focus for those who’ve partied harder than they studied. No problem for me, I’ve worked hard on my history major degree all through and I’m going for honours. Then Masters and a PhD.

Watching the Freshers’ drama unfold around campus at night amuses me. I attend one or two parties in the week, but avoid the ones where the alcohol flows as freely as the first years do into Accident & Emergency when things get out of control.

Tonight is our unofficial, history department welcome-back-party, held at one of the big period houses on the edge of Greenwich. These properties are a goldmine for landlords who pack the students to the rafters. Attic space? Utilise and create three bedrooms. Who cares if there’s no insulation against the winter. Cellar? Two bedrooms. Who needs windows? Eight bedrooms equal eight students, and big money for the landlords they rarely spend on upkeep of the place.

This three-storey house’s occupants are third years too so. hopefully, the number of first years will be limited.

“You know who’s going to be here don’t you?” asks Anne as we hop off the bus.

My housemate, Anne, studies economics but is along for the ride with her boyfriend, Jake. She also knows my secret crushes all too well.

“Half the third year history department?”

She smiles knowingly. “And one in particular.”

“Oh, yes?” I ask, although I know who she’s talking about.

Anne hooks her arm through mine. “Ethan Daniels.”

Ethan, the out of my league guy who all the girls clambered for in the first year. He had a serious girlfriend for a year and a half, but for the past few months hasn’t dated any girl. This guy ticks those all-important boxes. Intelligent. Cultured. Respectful of women. When I first saw him, once I stopped staring at his sculptured face and the cute way his dark fringe flopped into his green eyes, I presumed he was one of those guys who chose an arts degree because they think it’s an easy ride. Wrong. Ethan argued complex theories with the lecturers from day one, and silenced one or two.

“Will you talk to him this semester?” Anne asks.

“He can talk to me, if he’s interested.”

Anne shakes her head. “You know that you come across as unapproachable, right?”

“Why?”

“Apart from the fact you’re super smart and shoot down in flames guys who hit on you?”

“I do not!”

“Come on, you could have your pick if you weren’t so prickly. Look at you. I wish I had your figure.”

I pull a face. I’m tall – taller than I’d like because I prefer any guy I date to be above average height. Blessed with long-legs, a metabolism that keeps me slim, and long blonde hair and blue eyes, I’m quietly aware I’m attractive.

“Anne! You’re gorgeous. Isn’t she, Jake?” I say.

“Huh?” The tall guy is busy looking at his phone and not paying attention.

“Anne. She’s gorgeous.”

Jake grins. “Yeah.”

I laugh as Anne rolls her eyes at his less than enthusiastic response.

We reach the house and step into the blue haze. The familiar smell of weed overcomes the damp odour and I edge around the drunk girl asleep on a pile of coats on the floor. Along the cracked tiled hallway, the kitchen door is open and crowded with people. I wave at Fiona and a group of people I’ve spent the last couple of years studying with.

“Beer?” asks Jake and pulls a can from his plastic bag.

“Thanks.” I open the can and deliberate whether to go into the lounge room. I want to catch up with friends I haven’t seen for weeks, but doubt we’d hold a conversation over the music volume in there.

“Fleur!” Fiona calls from the kitchen and waves back. I’m about to walk towards her when I’m knocked into, hard, from behind.

Two girls, one who throws an apology at me on the way past, head into the lounge. I step to one side and another three or four appear and I’m shoved aside by the group.

“Excuse me!” I call.

I’m ignored by everybody apart from a straggler. The blonde haired girl with heavily made up eyes and an enviable piercing collection stops and grins stupidly, bottle of designer cider in her hand.

“Sorry! We’re just excited!”

First year. I guess she never went to many parties before her student days; this isn’t exactly wild. “Right.”

“Are you a fan?” She looks me up and down. Compared to her blue and white striped leggings and black tank top, my short floral skirt and black leggings topped off with a plain blue shirt is smart attire.

“A fan of what?”

“Ruby Riot. The twins are here.” Her eyes sparkle beneath the black kohl.

Ah, right. Ruby Riot fan girls. Great. UCL, like many universities, has its fair share of wannabe bands and followers, although Ruby Riot took a step from obscure to popular and were last seen supporting Blue Phoenix on tour. The guys already had an attitude, especially the guitarist, Jax, and now have collected a group of hangers-on who follow them around campus. With the new influx of first year girls, it looks like their entourage is about to grow. I have faint memories of watching the band play a couple of years back, but they’re not my kind of music.

The twins, Will and Nate, major in history too and I’ve seen them around in lectures the last couple of years but never shared classes with them. They disappeared when Ruby Riot began their ascent to stardom and were hardly on campus. Who knows? I don’t follow their story. Maybe it’s not quite time for the group to ‘give up the day job’. I’m surprised the band is back; surely supporting Blue Phoenix equals the big time?

Still, they have fame on campus and I expect the Campbell brothers brought their newfound status with them.

I spot Will and Nate holding court at one end of the large lounge room. I’ve known twins before, but these guys are impossible to tell apart. If I was a twin, I’d dress differently, wear my hair in a different style, try to carve my own image to indicate the fact my face matched somebody else wasn’t what defined me. Not this pair; their identical appearance is carefully cultivated.

There’s no denying Will and Nate Campbell are stars. Their confident stance and self-assured aura pull girls into their orbit. Helps they’re attractive, though I doubt it would matter now if they were average or not because fame is an aphrodisiac. The pair are tall, wiry with the right amount of muscle, and dressed in black denim, combat boots with distressed band tees. A twins could’ve stepped out of a rocker fashion shoot. Their dark brown hair is spiked at the front and cut short around the sides, full mouths, and just the right amount of scruff on their faces. Definitely poster boys.

Not my type. Give me an intelligent guy with a hint of vulnerability any day. Nice hair, clean, attractive, and not covered in ink and metal.

Like Ethan.

Not that he ever notices me. Still, if I had the courage to speak to Ethan that would help. Once, drunk, I attempted to introduce myself, but I’m unsure he noticed. Call him my mission for this year. Ethan is good friends with the group who live here; maybe he’s around. I’ll begin this year the way I mean to go on: standing up for what I want and making it happen. Ethan will be good start.

 

****

 

An hour later, and the beer I brought with me and left in the kitchen is almost gone. I examine the bottles in case there’s an unopened one.

“You always ignore me. You’re rude.”

I turn to the owner of the voice. Will. Or Nate. Who knows? Or cares. Declining to respond, I throw him a dirty look and head into the hallway.

“What’s your name?” he calls, presumably at me. I ignore him. Ethan’s around, I spotted him in the lounge and he wasn’t with a girl. I need to talk to him before I lose the courage.

The mystery twin catches up and stands between me and the door. “Tell me your name.”

I look into his green eyes, at his dilated pupils. Drunk. Or high. Probably both. “Fleur.” I step to one side to pass and he matches me.

“I’m Will.”

“Hello, Will. Excuse me.” I set my sights on Ethan. What does Will want?

“Talk to me.”

I switch my look to him unable to hide my surprise. “Why?”

“You’re cute.” He casts a look along the length of my body before looking back and biting on his lip piercing.

Oh, good God.
I point over his shoulder where Nate stands, with girls surrounding him. “Try one of those girls.”

“Nah, too easy.”

I scowl. “That’s rude.”

“Hey, not my fault chicks throw themselves at me.”

“Excuse me while I vomit!”

His drunken smile grows. “Truth.”

I attempt to pass him again, but a wall of pseudo-rock star blocks my way. “Fleur. That’s French, right? Flower. What kind of flower are you?” He leans forward and his nose practically touches my neck, the heavy smell of alcohol on his breath. “You don’t smell flowery. Fruity.”

I step back, rubbing my neck where his breath touched my skin. “Will, I have no idea why you’ve decided to talk to me, but please go away.”

I sidestep and again he matches me. “You’re really pretty.”

“You’re high. Otherwise, you’d get the hint I don’t want to talk to you.”

Over Will’s shoulder, I spot Ethan and we catch each other’s eye. I smile and Ethan frowns slightly. I know why: the burbling idiot blocking my way.

The one who now has hold of my hair and is tucking a strand behind my ear.

Stunned, I grab Will’s hand. He twists mine into his. “I’ve seen you before. Wanted to talk to you.”

Will’s fingers surround mine, the metal from his rings digging into my skin. I drag my hand away. “Leave me alone. This is harassment,” I hiss. “Touch me again and I’ll slap you.”

Will’s eyes register shock. “I’ve seen you loads of times and you never noticed me.”

“What?”

“Two years. In lectures. Around campus. Wanted to talk to you, but I was too shy.” He giggles.

“Shy?” The loudmouth Will and Nate aren’t who I’d call shy. “You didn’t look very shy five minutes ago with that girl attached to your lips.”

“That’s before I knew you were here!”

I cross my arms. This guy has the weirdest lines. He may be telling the truth about seeing me on campus or lectures, but I am not Will Campbell’s type. If Will expects me to believe this behaviour is more than a game, he’s wrong.

Ethan. The longer I stand talking to this drunken dickhead, the more he’ll think I’m hitting on a rock star. Desperately, I look over attempting to catch Ethan’s eye again, but he’s not looking anymore. Nate appears in my line of vision.

“Hey, Will, what you up to?”

“Tell your brother to leave me alone.”

They really are identical. I’ve never been close enough to see their faces clearly, but I can’t see any difference. I expected a freckle, something, but no. Nate rubs his chin. “C’mon, leave her alone. She’s not your type, man.”

“Fleur’s cute. Don’t you think she’s cute?”

Nate pulls an apologetic face. “Sorry. He probably can’t even see you properly.”

“I can! She has eyes like the sky and hair like straw.” Will frowns to himself. “No. Not like straw, I mean the colour. Her hair’s soft. So pretty…”

Will reaches out to touch again and Nate grabs his hand. “Dude!”

I’m aware of whispers. I side-glance people around and an uncomfortable number of eyes are on Will and me. Loud, obnoxious Will.

“Who thinks Fleur’s cute?” Will calls and indicates me. “Seriously, I’d do her!”

Whoa
. Out of line. Biting back a retort, I shove him in the chest. The action escapes Will’s notice, but the incident attracts more attention. Everybody close by stops their conversation to watch us.

“Move!” I hiss at Will then look at Nate for support. No point - Nate’s joined the amused crowd in watching for drunken Will’s next move.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Will launches into a high-pitched version of James Blunt’s “You’re Beautiful”.

Ohmigod. This is not happening to me.

The quiet giggling intensifies, as does Nate’s amusement at his stoned or drunk or maybe both brother.

If I were a lesser person, I’d run, crying at the embarrassment; but I don’t put up with this crap from anybody.

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