Shuffle (Ruby Riot #2) (23 page)

Chapter Forty-One

FLEUR

Christmas was hell.

I was dragged into a 21st celebration I didn’t want; where it was obvious that people avoided talking to me about the situation with Shaun and Will.

I spent the first week home with my parents aching inside, hating Shaun, and wanting Will. The grief over the death of my relationship with Will shocked me; I’ve never cried until my stomach ached the next day, or woken and not wanted to face the world. Will is missing from my life, but he hasn’t left my heart.

The tears aren’t just caused by Will. A part of my life has been killed; I fell in love with the wrong guy and trusted in a future I had mapped out. Both fell apart in front of my eyes.

At first, I keep in contact with Will, but the awkward phone calls became strained texts until the time difference when he’s away in the States became the perfect excuse to stop.

Stop.

Finish.

End of.

I won’t let go of the other aspect of my life; the need to throw myself harder into my studies is a blessing. The frustrating part is the need to begin the final two semesters again because of the transfer. The story is known by the staff at York, but nobody else. My name is recognised by one or two people. I hear the whispers; but it’s months since mine and Will’s relationship ended, and I’m forgotten.

The court cases were both difficult. I don’t know if seeing Will again or Shaun was hardest. Both times, I left the courts before anybody could talk to me, terrified I’d be pulled back into the nightmare I’ve spent months avoiding. I had to rewind in the courtroom, the last thing I could cope with is press intrusion too. Will’s case was a minor news story, as Ruby Riot continues the invasion of the world Will dreamed of.

I don’t wait to talk to Will after his court case. Maybe I should’ve, but we hadn’t spoken for over a month, and an awkward reunion outside a courtroom didn’t appeal. Later in the day, we exchanged texts and engaged in another uncomfortable phone conversation in an attempt to arrange a meet up. Will isn’t in London for long, and I can’t make it before he leaves. Again, our stars don’t align and we part before we’ve had a chance to talk.

How much of this is fate driving us apart, and how much is the world telling us we deluded ourselves this could work? I fill my mind with ‘what ifs’, battle the ache resurfacing when I think about the Will and Fleur from four months ago. If this is meant to be, life would give us a break.

Will sets off on a promotional tour of the UK. When I see Ruby Riot on the internet, there’s a strange mix of pride and disappointment. My stomach lurches each time I see a photo of one of the twins out with a girl, but it’s always Nate. I share Will’s smiles if I see photos of his performances, and his frown when hassled on days he only wants to walk to the car or shops.

The price of fame he spoke about.

Jax and Tegan still attract the same amount of scrutiny, and media-spun lies. Both are randomly linked to other people, but that headline changes so often it couldn’t be true. Would me and Will have been subjected to that if we’d continued?

Then the thought train races along the tracks to what could’ve been, to the guy who loved me and I loved, the inner belief we could have a future together.

Is he waiting for me, the way I am for him?

Chapter Forty-Two

WILL

I’m a lucky bastard. Instead of jail, I’m served a suspended sentence. If I touch somebody again, I’m fucked. I slink off to anger management sessions, talk through why I did it, but I can’t accept there’s a problem. I’m not an angry person, or abusive; this was a one off, and a reaction to a situation. Maybe whatever provoked the outburst is buried deep; the counsellor I visit can’t pull anything out of my past to explain why.

The event almost ruined my life. Why would I want to repeat the behaviour?

When Fleur admitted she’s frightened of me, it hurt. Bad. I could never, ever hurt a woman. Especially not the one I loved.

Nowadays, I’m exhausted, but on a constant high. Ruby Riot grow faster than anybody imagined, and the day our album was lauded by Rolling Stone was the day Jax ran around the hotel screaming, before ending the evening drunk in a corner. Me and Nate weren’t far behind because we knew this was the day we’ve waited for. The day the critics stood up and took notice.

The day I call Fleur again.

Every time I have a few beers inside me, I summon up the courage to phone her and, each time, talk myself out of it. When I was away on the press circuit last year, when we were together, I shared every moment, and Fleur’s pride matched mine. An accolade from Rolling Stone is huge, and I want to share this moment with her too.

I want Fleur with me, but again I lose my nerve and don’t call her.

Why am I not over Fleur? Why does she slip into my head at least once a day? I believe what I told her that day: underneath the rock star and the academic; the rough around the edges guy and neatly smoothed girl are two people whose lives crossed and knotted. Undoing the knot to her is hard; every time I loosen it, the knot tightens again.

If none of the shit had happened with Shaun, our relationship would’ve been stable when I left on tour. Instead, it was non-existent. We attempted to stay in touch by text and occasional phone conversations, but how can we fix what pulled us apart when we’re not in the same country? Now I’m back, I’m determined to give this another go.

If we meet and one of us feels nothing, I’ll accept this is over. Back from our tour of the States, the pull to her grows. When I was overseas, I closed off from my life in England and hid from my feelings for Fleur; but now I’m back, she should be with me.

Fleur lives on campus in York, back into Halls like a first year. She’s on her own for a new start Fleur didn’t want. If Fleur lived in London, I’d have more chance to see her and try again.

A week after we finish the tour of the States, I’m in York for a gig, and I can’t leave again without seeing Fleur. Knowing she’s in the same city, a few miles from my hotel, pulls me further into my memories and the cord between us shortens.

I fully expect Fleur to refuse to see me when I call. This phone call is the first time we’ve spoken in a couple of months and a glimmer of hope shines when Fleur agrees to meet up. The conversation is stiff, business-like, and I can’t read what Fleur’s thinking; but at least, she didn’t say no.

As Ruby Riot grow in popularity, it’s increasingly difficult for me to go out alone. Fleur hates scrutiny, that was an issue for her a couple of months ago; and as I don’t want to scare her off, I arrange to meet Fleur on campus where I blend in more.

I wait outside the large, concrete building, the environment a world away from the converted brick houses of the department at UCL. I watch every student walk out of the door, searching passers-by for Fleur’s distinctive hair.

Finally, Fleur walks into my world again, the sun shining on her blonde hair and the blue cotton summer dress shaping against her. The world falls away, as the awareness of everything around leaves.

At first, Fleur doesn’t see me. I’m not exactly disguised but half-hidden beneath a baseball cap, tattooed arms covered in a grey jacket. I stand and she turns her head. The moment she notices me, time rewinds to the day I told Fleur I loved her.

Nothing’s changed – apart from everything.

I stride over, ready to take hold of Fleur, not giving a shit who sees. But Fleur steps back, and shifts her look away. I halt.
Don’t screw this up.

“Hey, Fleur.”

She fiddles with the zip on her bag and looks back at me. “Hello.”

I push my hands into my jeans’ pockets to stop myself touching her. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Of course.”

She’s formal Fleur, controlled, and not the passionate girl who gave her all to me. Fleur is a million miles away, but I’d walk twice as far to reach her.

Other students pass, and when two girls stop close by, I indicate to Fleur with my head we should walk away. The summer sun beats down as we cross away from the buildings to an open green area, where the sun dapples on the ground around wooden benches. Some students lie on the grass, or sit together chatting. A couple nearby are wrapped in each other, in their own world, and jealousy stabs.

In an unspoken joint decision, we sit on the bench; the awareness of the small gap between us is as painful as when we’re in different countries.

“I should’ve bought us coffees,” I say.

“I have water.” Fleur delves into her bag and pulls a bottle out. Her hair sweeps forward exposing the curve of her neck and my breath catches again. How can she have this effect as suddenly and as totally? I woke this morning to a bright day, with Fleur in my afternoon I’m dazzled.

“I did it,” I say.

“Did what?” She offers me the open bottle and I shake my head.

“You told me to come back and tell you when Ruby Riot win an award and hit the top of the charts.”

“I don’t remember saying that.”

“I do. I remember everything. You said you’d agree I was special then.”

Fleur focuses on the bottle. “You were always special, Will. You’re a unique guy.”

“One of a pair.”

She turns to look at me. “No, unique.”

In her eyes, I capture a sense of what she’s holding back; I’ve looked into them enough to know how she feels. Her face has always been an open book to me, and I’m sure mine is to her. We can communicate without words. How many couples do that?

Couples.

I sit on my hands and resist the temptation to touch her. “I missed you.”

Fleur’s breath catches before she says the words I need to hear. “I miss you, Will.”

“We don’t need to.” I take her hand. “We can put this behind us and try again.”

“How long are you in York?”

“Until tomorrow.”

“Then you’re wrong. We’ll miss each other again; after today, our lives are going in different directions.”

I stare at the blue sky, the clouds threatening to hide the sun. “I won’t be away all the time.”

“I don’t want to hurt again the way I did at Christmas. That was hell, Will. If things were different –”

“We’re different to other people. Isn’t that what we always said?” I shift closer and touch Fleur’s face. “I’ve thought about you every day. Why did you stop texting me?”

“That was you.”

“No. You.”

“Okay, both of us; but now I’m here, I want to fix this.”

“I want to forget.” My heart twists at her words. “No, Will. I mean I want to forget what happened with Shaun and move on. I don’t want to forget about you. I doubt I ever could.”

“So you think we try again?”

Fleur curls her slender fingers around where mine rest on her cheek. “Are you still in London when you’re in the UK?”

“Yeah, I’m based there.”

“What about touring? Are you going anywhere else?”

“We’re doing the festival circuit in Europe, and there’s a bigger tour planned later in the year.”

“So you won’t be around much?” she says, and her voice cracks with disappointment.

“This year but there are months in between. Next year, I’ll be around more. The band can’t tour non-stop.”

“I guess.”

“I’m not convincing you, am I? You know why I believe we could work? Why I believe people are meant to be?”

Fleur looks at the ground, and gives a small shake of her head.

“My parents. They were high school sweethearts. Nearly twenty-five years later and they’re still together.”

“Wow. That’s unusual.”

“Yeah, and they’re not the same people as they were at sixteen. Mum and Dad went through shit. I saw it; but underneath everything, they stayed together because they belong.”

Fleur turns her smile to me. “That’s a cute story.”

“No. It’s their reality.” Fleur stares at me, eyes welling with tears. “Fleur...”

“I miss you so much, Will. I don’t understand why. It’s been months; and then suddenly you’re here, and I don’t know what to do.”

I take her hand. “Give this another chance.”

She blinks away the tears. “My life has been turned upside down. I’m only just straightening things, and you come in and blow everything out of line again.”

“All I did was hold your hand.”

“And all I want is you to kiss me, tell me we can be okay. Which is crazy. I’m crazy. I’m not sure meeting was a good idea.”

“I had to see you. When I say I miss you, it’s the biggest understatement. Last week, I was in Miami. I sat in a bar overlooking the ocean and you know what I was thinking? Not that I’d made it, or how awesome life is, but that you were across that ocean. I was lost in wondering about what you were doing.” I rub my forehead; I don’t want to say the next words, scared of her response. “Who you were with.”

“I’m not with anybody.”

“Nor me.”

She smiles weakly. “I’m surprised. That’s not your normal style.”

“Not since you.”

“Nobody?”

“Not one girl, Fleur.”

The doubt on her face riles me, but how can I expect different? Nate’s accused me of taking a vow of celibacy and carried on in his man-whoring fashion; the fact I don’t pick up girls anymore increases some of their determination. Once, I was jealous of Jax with the girls throwing themselves at him. Now I’m jealous of Jax and Tegan.

“Really?” she says and the tears fill her eyes again. This isn’t Fleur, she doesn’t cry at the drop of a hat.

“Really. Maybe I’m stupid, but I’ve held on to my romantic image of me and you reuniting.”

“You definitely are strange.”

“Overly optimistic, maybe. I guess I needed to meet you one last time and see what happens when I do, now all the shit from earlier is done with.” We haven’t looked away from each other; every word spoken seems pointless because the unspoken ones are needed before I walk away. “Fleur. I love you and want us together again.”

“You just said you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Late tomorrow.”

Fleur gazes at the people on the lawn nearby and her grip on my hand tightens. She doesn’t want to let me go. “Kiss me, Will, and then I’ll know.” Fleur turns her head and reaches out, stroking her fingers along my scruff. “Although, I think I know already.”

“Know what?”

“That I still love you.” The words choke her and tears fall across Fleur’s cheeks.

We’ve been through a lot, been apart too long, but our hearts haven’t forgotten. This should be a tender moment, but every kiss I’ve wanted to give Fleur in the last few months pours out of my body in one. I crash my lips against hers, and I can’t hold back. Fleur threads her fingers into my hair, her cheeks damp as she returns my kiss with an equal passion, the kiss breathing life back into us.

I wrap myself around Fleur, as she presses against me, and pushes away my fear I’ll leave without her today. Kissing Fleur fills the hollow space inside, and we entwine on the bench, retreating from the world into our place mid-way between the sensible and the crazy. This is where I belong, with Fleur, and the place I will always return to.

She pulls away and rests her forehead against mine, but I don’t let Fleur go. “I didn’t need to kiss you to know I still loved you,” I say. “I told you I always would.”

“I think that’s why I stopped contacting you - because I still loved you.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Fleur.”

She snuggles against me and I wrap my arm around her waist. “Because I didn’t want you to hurt me.”

“Not gonna happen. Me and you, we can do this.”

“People won’t believe we can.”

I laugh and whisper. “You know what we do then?”

“What?”

“We shake it off.”

Fleur giggles and nudges me in the ribs, the sound filling my day, and erasing the empty hours spent without her. This girl is my opposite, but my everything.