Loving the Band (6 page)

‘Of course! You looked exhausted.’

‘Yeah, it has been a very long day!’ He paused for a moment and it seemed that he was trying to gather his nerve. He coughed and said, ‘Jess, I know this might be asking too much, but the rescue service said they can only tow the car tomorrow. Would you mind if I stayed here tonight? I’m already half asleep.’

‘Of course not! I can drive you home in the morning,’
I answered quickly, proud that I could contain my nerves at this prospect.

Shaq look relieved. ‘Are you sure? It’ll be OK with your parents?’

‘This is my dad’s place. My mum and I usually live up north, in Scotland.’

‘You don’t live in London?’ Shaq actually looked upset.

‘No. I thought I’d mentioned it. Sorry. We’re down for a couple of weeks. Dad’s away this week, though, so it’s just me and Tegan.’

Shaq wandered into the lounge looking sad. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Well, I’ll just kip here on the sofa.’

I blushed, trying not to read too much into the fact that it sounded like he thought Scotland was so far away. Or even think about it myself. ‘Well, I … There isn’t really anywhere for you to sleep other than the sofa, but I put all of the bed sheets in the wash after you guys stayed – you’re a messy lot.’ I smiled.

He laughed too. ‘It’s fine, I don’t need any.’

‘You can stay in my bed,’ I said without thinking about it. I threw my hand over my mouth in shock as I realized how that sounded.

Shaq looked shocked. ‘I, er, really?’

‘Not like that!’ I waved my hands around in front of me. ‘I, um … It’s something I do all the time with my best male friend from home. He’s gay, though. But we’re friends, aren’t we?’ I really needed to have a lock on my mouth.

‘Well, OK, if it’s all right with you, that would be great
to get an actual bed instead of the sofa.’

I breathed a sigh of relief that my bumbling mouth hadn’t got me in too much of an embarrassing situation, and we went upstairs to my room. I rummaged in my suitcase while Shaq stood self-consciously in the middle of the room, looking around. ‘I packed a pair of my brother’s trackie bottoms by accident, so you can wear them.’

Shaq took them from me hesitantly, and I realized it looked as if I was going to stay there while he got undressed.

‘Oh, right! I’m just going to grab a shower so … um … you can get changed while I’m in there. See you in a minute.’

I walked towards the en suite shower and looked back, catching Shaq’s eye. He smiled and then we both laughed at the awkward moment that had just happened.

‘See you in a minute, Jess.’

I stepped out of the shower, grabbing a long red towel from the radiator and then wrapping it securely round me, untangling my hair from the band I used to keep it dry. I combed through my wavy hair and reached round for my pyjamas.

Oh crap. Where were they? I hadn’t brought them in with me. And Shaq was in my room. Shit shit shit.

‘Um, Shaq?’ I called out tentatively.

‘Yeah?’ he replied.

Right ho. He was still in my room. There was no way of
nipping in and getting them unnoticed.

‘This is quite awkward but I haven’t brought my pyjamas in here, so can you, like, turn round while I come get them?’

He laughed. ‘Of course I can.’

I grabbed my towel and pulled it tighter round me, opening the door slightly and peeking round to see Shaq sitting on my bed, facing the wall. I stopped in shock at the sight of his bare, toned and muscular back.

Shaking myself out of it, I stepped across the room. ‘Don’t look!’ I reminded him.

He chuckled. ‘All I’ve got is a faceful of wall.’

I moved over to my pile of clothes and grabbed a pair of my pyjama shorts and a white tank top. I turned back round to retreat to the bathroom when, before I knew it, I had slipped, going head first on to the cold, hard bathroom floor along with a massive thud. ‘Ow.’ I tried to get myself up, but I couldn’t. Suddenly I felt a pair of firm hands picking me up.

‘Shaq! No, go away!’ I mumbled in embarrassment, my head still fuzzy.

‘No, Jess, you’ve really hurt yourself. I’m going to sit you down on the bed. Don’t worry, I can’t see anything I shouldn’t.’

He led me to the bed and sat me down, standing over me. Gently, he pushed my hair away from my forehead.

‘Oh no, Jess, your head’s bleeding.’

I moved my hand up to my forehead and flinched as I touched the spot where I’d cut myself.

‘Where is your first-aid kit?’ His voice was soothing but authoritative.

‘Under the stairs,’ I said, squinting against the headache that was developing.

While he was gone, I checked my towel and tightened it round me. Shaq had obviously been a complete gentleman to say he hadn’t seen anything. There was definitely some embarrassing exposure going on. I tried not to think about what I must have looked like. How could I be such a klutz? This was mortifying.

Shaq was back minutes later with the first-aid kit and a wet flannel. He moved swiftly over to me.

‘This might hurt.’ He gently covered my cut with the flannel and held it in place. I winced painfully. ‘Sorry,’ he apologized. ‘Here, you hold it for a second.’

I moved my hand to take the cloth and watched him as he opened the box and took out a plaster big enough to cover the cut. Despite the pain in my head, it took every ounce of my strength not to stare at his bare arms and chest as he pulled the backing off the plaster. But I wasn’t quick enough and he caught my gaze.

He stopped for a moment, brushing the hair away from my face. ‘It’s stopped bleeding.’ he whispered.

I nodded, but then pulled in my breath sharply as he ever so carefully placed the plaster on my forehead. ‘Ouch.’

It broke the tension and he laughed. ‘I think you’re going to be OK. Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital to make sure, though?’

‘No, no, I’m fine. I’ll go get changed now.’ I stood up and wobbled a bit as the blood rushed to my head. Shaq caught me round my waist, a worried look in his eyes.

I blushed at his touch. ‘I’m OK, I promise – head rush.’

‘OK, well, I’ll be waiting just here if you need me.’

It only took a few minutes to get dressed, but I stayed in the bathroom, trying to gather myself before going back out, knowing Shaq was in my bed.

I took a deep breath and walked in. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi, yourself,’ he replied shyly. He was sitting quite stiffly on the side of the bed. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Still a bit wobbly,’ I admitted.

‘Hang on, then.’ He came over and helped me into bed, then walked away, and for a moment I thought he was going to leave the room.

I tried to get up. ‘Ow,’ I cried.

‘No, don’t do that,’ he protested, and came round the other side of the bed, getting in next to me and switching off the light.

We both lay in the darkness looking up at the ceiling, the space between us almost tangible. The only visible light seeped through the curtains. I turned my body to the side so that I could face him. ‘Thank you for looking after me, Shaq.’

He turned his head towards mine, and looked at me intensely, like he was trying to decide something. Then he rolled over slowly to face me. I could feel his breath tickling my lips as he breathed deeply in and out. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of my hair away
from my face.

‘Does your head still hurt?’ he asked.

As I murmured in a small voice, ‘A little,’ he moved his hand from my face to where the plaster was and gently stroked it.

I was glad it was so dark and Shaq couldn’t see me blush. I sighed.

‘Sorry, does that hurt?’

‘No, it feels nice.’ I didn’t want him to stop.

He looked at me intensely, as if he was trying to read my thoughts. I leaned in closer to try to show him.

Ever so gently Shaq took his hand from my face and leaned forward to kiss me on the forehead where the cut was. When I smiled in response, he started to plant little kisses down my face and along my neck. My pulse was racing with the need for him to keep going.

I took his hand and held it tightly as his head moved down my body, kissing my arms, pulling up my tank top and kissing my stomach. I tried to bite back a moan, but it was no use. I wanted much more as my hands tangled into his hair.

I watched him reach the top of my silk shorts and then turned my head to release the breath I realized I’d been holding. But as I did the plaster caught on the pillow and I drew my breath in sharply.

Worry filled Shaq’s eyes and he drew himself back up to where I lay. ‘Jess, let’s not do this now. Not when you’re still feeling like this.’

‘I-I want to, though,’ I stammered.

‘I know, me too, but I don’t want to hurt you. I won’t.’

He pulled me gently across him so that my head and hands lay on his chest. ‘There’s lots of time for that. You should probably sleep now.’ He gently traced his finger round the plaster. ‘Your body needs it.’

I sighed and pulled myself in closer. Shaq started humming the song that had been on in the car and I found myself drifting off.

Waking up slowly, I could feel the morning light pushing its way through the curtains. Thoughts from last night flooded my mind as I remembered kissing and falling asleep in Shaq’s arms. I smiled before I even opened my eyes. I turned over groggily to say hi only to find the space in the bed next to me empty. Was it all a dream? I got up and rushed over to my mirror. I looked an absolute mess, but I found what I was looking for – the massive plaster. So I hadn’t dreamed it. Where was he? He’d left. Oh God. Had I done too much?

‘Jessica?’ came a familiar husky voice.

I turned round to see Shaq, back in his clothes from yesterday, standing in my doorway. I ran over to him and wrapped my arms round his neck.

‘Someone’s feeling better.’ God, his morning voice was sexy.

‘I thought you had left,’ I pouted.

He chuckled. ‘Of course not. I was making you
something to eat.’ As if on cue, my stomach growled.

‘Yummy,’ I said, licking my lips.

He laughed and pushed me back on to the bed.

‘Hey!’ I shouted as he made his way out of my room.

I moved over to the mirror, grabbing my brush in an effort to control my hair. I brushed through the knots and gave up, once again tying it up in a messy bun. I skipped down the stairs to the smell of a big fat fry-up. Shaq was standing in the kitchen serving up two plates of food. I sat on the breakfast stool and left him to it. He turned round and placed the two plates on the island. It looked great.

‘Do you want something to drink?’ he asked.

I laughed. ‘I’m going to bump my head more often for this kind of five-star service.’ I pointed to the fridge. ‘There’s some fresh orange juice in there.’ I smiled at him.

He grinned back, grabbing some juice and two clean glasses. Pouring us both a drink, he sat down opposite me.

‘So what time do you have to be at that interview?’ I asked.

‘Well, it’s this afternoon, but I’ll have to be at the hotel in an hour or so, so that I have plenty of time to get ready with the boys. The interview’s live so I have to be really well prepared.’

‘They must be wondering where you are,’ I said, digging into breakfast.

‘You’re right,’ Shaq said. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket to check it. He went quiet.

‘Any messages?’

‘Yeah,’ he said quietly, looking at me. ‘A couple from Riley checking I’m OK and also that you got back OK.’

Something about Shaq’s expression and body language changed. Just the tiniest shift, but I could tell something wasn’t quite right any more. He looked almost as if he felt guilty.

Had I done something wrong? I really hoped not. ‘Well, I will go get ready now and then I’ll drive you to the hotel.’ I smiled at him.

He smiled back, but looked a little sad. ‘Thanks, Jess.’

When I came out of the shower, clean and dressed, I found Shaq in my room collecting his wallet and loose change from the night before. He was looking over the vast collection of bracelets that I’d brought with me. Since I can remember, I’d always collected them; there was something about them jingling on my wrist that made me feel more confident when I was out. I saw him pick up a green beaded bracelet, one I’ve had since I was little. It was actually one that boys may have worn too.

‘Pretty, huh?’ I joked.

‘It’s cool, though,’ he said, weaving the beads round his fingers.

I smiled. ‘My dad bought it for me one holiday when I was about nine – it was far too big for me then, let alone now! It was when Mum and Dad were together. Everything was much simpler …’ I trailed off, embarrassed.

‘Oh, sorry.’ He began to take the bracelet off, but I stopped him, holding my hand over his.

‘No, no, leave it. I want you to have it. I don’t wear it any more and it looks better on you anyway.’

Shaq thanked me, but moved his hand back gently. The move surprised me, but I pretended not to notice. ‘Right, I’ll just tell Tegan where I’m going and we’ll be off. Make sure you have everything.’

I made my way to Tegan’s bedroom and knocked softly on the door – no answer. I knocked harder. Still no answer. I gave up and walked in. I found Tegan lying flat out in bed.

‘Oi, you, sleepy head.’ I walked over to Tegan and poked her arm.

‘Meh. It’s too early. What do you want?’ she grumbled.

‘I’m just taking Shaq back to the hotel. I don’t know how long I’ll be.’

‘Oh yeah? I thought I heard him at the door last night. I want to hear
everything
when you’re back.’

‘OK,’ I laughed. But inside I was thinking I might need Tegan’s advice about Shaq’s funny mood change. I hoped it was just me imagining things. This was all so new anyway. ‘I’ll tell you if you manage to drag yourself from your pit by the time I’m back.’

Tegan groaned and threw a pillow in my direction. I just managed to jump out of the room as it hit the door and I made my way downstairs.

On the way to the hotel, Shaq was still a little quiet.

‘Are you OK?’ I asked eventually as we pulled into the hotel car park. ‘Have I said anything wrong?’ I just needed to know now.

‘No. No, of course not, Jess. I’ve just got something on my mind.’