The Bunk Up (The Village People Book 1) (18 page)

I can’t work out what the hell is wrong with me, and if I’m honest, I don’t like the feelings that I won’t acknowledge as the truth. It’s just sex, albeit good – no, fantastic sex – between us, so why I’m suddenly turning into a paranoid, over-sensitive idiot, I have no idea.

“So, Frazer,” Tiffany drawls in my ear, pulling me out of my simmering irritation with a woman who has appeared to disappear. “I think it’s about time me and you found a little entertainment of our own in this dreary village.”

I’ve had way too much to drink, and I use that excuse as to why my dick is suddenly very UN-excited at Tiffany’s suggestion. When I’d first arrived in Beydon, I’d banked on banging Tiffany before filming was over. But, strangely, now she does nothing for me.

“Mmm,” I murmur in return. I don’t want to cut her off entirely, just in case my dick swiftly changes its mind.

A commotion by the doors makes us both turn and stare when a blur of blonde curls comes stumbling through the pub. Daisy’s hands shoot out in front of her as she stops herself with the support of the bar. “Oops,” she giggles to Trevor when she pulls at her vest that has slid to the side during her tumble. “Nearly had a glimpse of my boob there, Trev.”

She’s even more pissed than me.

“I’m up for an inspection
.
” Troy the fucking Tool grins, sidling around the bar to Daisy.

She giggles and slaps his arm playfully. “You know you only have to ask, Troy.”

I grit my teeth when anger pours into my veins, scorching my blood with fury.

Everyone stares in dumbfounded silence when Daisy tries to hoist her little body on to the barstool. She completely misses, by a mile, and drops on her ass beside it. She frowns, confused
,
as she makes an attempt to clamber off the floor.

Troy chuckles, putting his hands under her arms to lift her back up and onto the stool. “There you go, babe.”

Babe? Fucking babe
?

Daisy mews like a goddam kitten. “My armour in shining knight.”

Troy coughs then nods, a smirk on his goddam ugly fucking face. “Only for you, Daisy.” Then leaning into her, he whispers something in her ear.

Her head flips back and the sound of her happy laughter makes my chest jolt. Disappointment sinks into my gut when I realise I’ve never made her laugh like that. The carefree way she acts makes me swallow at the resentment that settles in my gut.

“Fray!”

I stiffen at the sound of Daisy’s shrill screech. I also notice Tiffany tense beside me.

Taking a breath, I move my gaze towards where Daisy sits huddled against The Tool’s chest. She grins at me, waving her little hand. “Fray, come buy me a drink!”

Fray? Bloody Fray.

Taking another huge swallow, one of many this afternoon, I plant a smile on my face and leave Tiff staring after me. I can practically feel the fury seeping from her, but she isn’t my concern right now
.

“Hey,
babe
.” I accentuate the ‘babe’ loudly for Troy’s benefit as I lean in and press my mouth to Daisy’s. She gasps but doesn’t fight me, her tiny tongue sweeping into my mouth and twisting around my own. She tastes of wine and apple. My cock thinks that’s a delicious combination and finally decides something is worth waking up for.

“Where’ve you been, Daise?”

I can feel Troy hovering like a spare part beside us as Daisy fixes her wonky stare on me. “I’ve been getting drunk!”

Apart from stating the obvious, she smiles
,
but I see a sadness in her eyes.

“Is everything okay?”

She nods, too firmly, and grins at Trev when he slides a funny looking green cocktail towards her. “Never better,” she slurs. “My ex just rang.”

Oh.

“Oh?”

“Wants me back.” She hiccups.

“Right. And?”

She inhales loudly, and I notice the faintest quiver of her bottom lip. Nodding again, she smiles, albeit forcibly, and lifts her eyes to me. “And?”

She blows out a breath then takes a long drink of the green shit. I want to snatch it away from her and demand an answer. I don’t like the way my chest tightens. I force the emotion away and give Daisy a slight quirk of my eyebrow, encouraging her to give me a fucking answer. Like now.

“And, well, I dunno. I have to weigh up all the options here.”

“What options? The option of letting the prick win? The option of allowing him to walk all over you. The option of screwing you and the other stupid bitch?”

“
Other
stupid bitch?” She huffs. “So that means that I’m the original stupid bitch?”

Shit.

“I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to, Frazer.”

Tears bubble in her eyes and, blinking them back, she grabs her glass and downs the rest of her drink. If it even is a drink.

“See you later!” she shouts to the entirety of the pub. Well, everyone but me.

Damn me and my mouth!

“Nicely done
.
” Troy sniggers in my ear.

If there weren’t witnesses, I’d have really hurt him. Pushing someone off their stool is hard-core, especially when it’s a long way to the floor.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Daisy

I’m not even sure why I’m so upset with Frazer. He was right, after all. I am a stupid bitch. Especially as I’m considering Marcus’ plea for a second chance.

He’d rung me a few hours ago. Right at the wrong moment. The moment when I was reflecting on everything. The moment when I was realising how stupid I had been to ever deliberate random shags. That isn’t me - that is most definitely my mother
.
And the very moment when I accepted I was just a bit of fun to Frazer.

Marcus had begged, sworn and begged again. He told me he’s over his ‘silly moment’ and that it made him realise how much he loves me.

He asked me to marry him.

It was everything I had hoped for. At one point in my life
,
anyway.

Now? Well
,
now I’m not so sure. But I can’t say the thought doesn’t fill me with excitement. Married. Me.

The door bounces off the wall when Frazer stomps into the cottage behind me. “Don’t ever walk away from me, Daisy.”

His tone makes me spin around. The fury pouring from him is intense, swallowing all the oxygen in the room until I struggle to catch a breath.

I’ve never seen Frazer so… so goddamn aggressive. His eyes are dark and fixed on me with a storm that rages within his dark irises.

My blood heats and I step back a single step.

He stalks me, his step much broader than my short height allows me.

“Well?”

I frown, puzzled by a question he hasn’t asked.

“Well, what?”

“I can’t believe you’re even debating going back to that tosser, Daise.”

“That tosser?” I spit. “That tosser has given me more than you ever will.” I flinch at my slip up.

Frazer frowns, his brow creasing with confusion. “More than I ever will? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I shake my head, spinning on my heels so he can’t catch the regret in my eyes.

“What the hell do you want, Daisy?”

Want and hope tear up my throat and I freeze. The room grows silent, waiting for my answer, and I wait for the answer to form in my head. What do I want?

“I want the dream, Frazer,” I whisper.

His eyes snap to mine. I hate that the words slipped from me so easily.

As if I’m saved by the bell, my phone chirps and AC/DC blasts out into the crushing quiet. Frazer narrows his eyes on my phone screen when I pluck it from my bag. However, it isn’t my saving grace, it’s the ultimatum I don’t want to think about.

Marcus.

My eyes flit between Frazer and my phone. We both know this is the answer to his round-about question. Him or Marcus?

Frazer or Marcus?

Marcus.

Frazer.

Marcus.

I can’t understand what Frazer wants. He’s always said this is just a bit of fun between us, just the same as I have. So his reaction when I slide my finger across the green icon and answer the call doesn’t make any sense.

“Hey, love,” Marcus sings loudly through the phone. “Have you thought about what I said?”

My eyes cling to Frazer as his face clouds over. His throat moves when he swallows heavily. Nodding slowly, he drops his stare, clicks his tongue and then turns and closes the door behind him.

“Daisy?” Marcus says. “You there?”

“Uhh, yeah.”

“Well? Do you have an answer for me?”

Do I?

“No, not yet.”

My voice is quiet but undulant as I fight with the emotion making my throat close in.

Nothing makes any sense. Frazer. Marcus. Marriage. Sex. Fun. Even the goddamn weather confuses me. My head starts to spin and I steady myself into the chair.

“I have to go, Marcus. I’ll call you later.”

Not giving him chance to argue, I end the call and throw my phone onto the sofa beside me as if it burns to touch the bloody thing.

I make my way upstairs, lower to my knees in front of the wardrobe, and take out the small box.

It all seems a tad silly now. Looking at my dreams, perfectly portrayed within magazine cuttings and silly photos of picture-perfect houses, 2.4 children and even a damn white fluffy husky. My heart physically aches.

My dreams.

Yet when I pick up the photograph of the flawless bride and groom that I had once imagined as me and Marcus, the groom’s face morphs behind my tears and Frazer’s twinkling dark eyes smile back at me.

For some strange reason, I can’t visualise Marcus’ face. I struggle to even remember what he looks like. All I see is dark hair, dark eyes and that mischievous smile that I’ve fallen in love with.

***

I groan when my mother drops onto the bench beside me. I thought I had managed to find a quiet, secluded spot, hidden away under the trees. The ducks are my friends this afternoon, each one skating across the water as they perform only for me. The breeze is gentle and the sun is warm but not over hot. It’s perfect.

If only my heart could appreciate the tranquil moment.

“Well
,
” Mum huffs. “I think it’s about time I take myself home.”

Surprised by her announcement, my eyes widen and I stare at her. “Eh?”

“Bloody Trevor. The cheeky twat.”

Oh God.

She twists on the bench so she’s looking straight at me and thrusts a piece of paper at me. It’s a bill for her stay at the pub.

4 nights bed & breakfast - £120

4 dinners - £40

4 lunches - £24

48 gin and tonics - £192

Total - £376

I nod, handing it back. “And?”

She scowls at me then digs deep into her bag and pulls out a pen. Scribbling angrily across the paper, she then shoves it back at me.

4 nights bed & breakfast - £120
4 shags - £120

4 dinners - £40
4 blowjobs - £40

4 lunches - £24
4 cops of my tits - £24

48 gin and tonics - £192
- 1 ANAL – PRICELESS!!!!

Total - £376
£0!!!!

I haven’t got the energy to argue, or even be grossed out that my mother charges for services rendered – although the ‘anal’ makes me shudder. “Just come and stay at the cottage, Mum.”

“Oh no!” she says, shaking her head angrily. “Not a bloody chance.” She points at the word priceless. “I’m owed way more G&T’s! And besides, I’m not too chuffed about listening to my daughter having sex. It just feels wrong to masturbate to that!”

I’m not sure if she means it ‘would’ be wrong, or that she’s already masturbated to me and Frazer having sex and it ‘felt’ wrong!

Choosing not to think about that, I shrug. “Don’t worry, there’ll be no more of that.”

I don’t think she hears me. Frank stumbles out of the pub and waves across to us. “Afternoon, wank material!”

I feel my mother suddenly start to pay attention to her surroundings. Perking up her cleavage with a quick hoist of her hands, she plants a brisk kiss to my forehead and scurries across the village square towards Frank.

I sigh. Even my mother seems to have no problem with random shags. There must be something wrong with me. Other people never seem to have this much trouble dropping their knickers and then walking away – although my mother does tend to run.

Checking my watch, I realise I’ve been sat watching the world go by for over three hours. The ducks are obviously more entertaining than they look. The sun is beginning to drop behind the row of shops and the warm summer air starts to cool.