Read Online Death of a Rock Star: A Boy in the Band Novella by NJ Frost - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: NJ Frost
Tags: Contemporary
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spectacular eyes of hers speak volumes.
I’m startled out of these thoughts by my phone ringing. It’s Darcey. I pick up but talk in a hushed voice so as not to disturb Sylvie.
“Where did you disappear to and why are you whispering?” Darcey demands. “What the fuck are you getting up to… or don’t I want to know?”
“Keep your hair on. I’m not getting fucked up or falling off the wagon. I’m being the knight in shining armour for once – although I’m not really sure why.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Look I haven’t got time for your shady, cryptic shit. You coming for drinks at The Castle?
“No. I’ve kind of got my hands full at the moment.”
“The bitch ex is missing too, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”
“No.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Come on Darce, what would I be doing with Jamie’s ex?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe going off your track record over the past couple of weeks… fucking her?”
“That’s a fucking low blow Darcey. Give me some credit!”
“Sorry Blake.” She sighs, “It’s been a long afternoon.”
“Go get pissed.” I order her.
“Stay out of trouble and don’t get fucked up.” She orders back.
“I won’t.” The contradiction in my answer hangs heavy in the brief silence between us.
“I presume you need somewhere to stay again tonight?” She asks.
“If that’s okay?”
“Of course it is. Call me – when you’re through with your knightly shit.” She sighs, and then hangs up.
I go back to watching Sylvie.
In what seems like no time at all, the barman is calling over to say that the taxi I called is here.
I sweep Sylvie up into my arms. She weighs nothing. Her arms wrap around my neck and she buries her face there. I swear I feel her lips on me and I feel all sorts of things that I shouldn’t. That dark scent of hers is so fucking intoxicating. I don’t need any other drug. Just her. I want the walk to the taxi to last for ever.
I’m being carried. Why the fuck am I being carried? Everything is a blur. I can’t remember what it is I’m supposed to be doing. There is something, but my mind can’t quite get a grip on it. Strong arms are holding me. I feel flooded by a sense of ease. It could be that incredible smell that is making me feel calm and safe. It’s spicy and warm and wraps around me like an alcohol infused dream. An unfamiliar voice penetrates my reverie. It’s rough and deep but gentle.
I open my eyes and take in a face, an unbelievably stunning face. I must be dreaming. A pair of strange pale eyes meet mine. So beautiful! I’m in the arms of a beautiful dark angel; mirroring everything that I am, understanding every feeling that I’ve ever had, and have forgotten.
My salvation. My forgiveness. Now I can rest.
Sylvie fucking Smith! I don’t want to think about that moment when she looked up at me, and it felt like the whole fucking world came to a halt. I can’t let myself think about it. I’m going to get this girl home and then I’m going to run and stay as far away as possible, for as long as possible. Right now she’s wrapped around me and fuck me if it doesn’t feel so right. So right, and yet so terribly wrong. I wish that this girl wasn’t the girl. But she is, in more ways than I care to think about.
The cab pulls up outside her place, and my heart sinks a little at the thought of moving her from where she’s settled on my lap. I could stare at her face forever.
I have to move her to pay the cabbie. I give him a huge tip, and he jumps out to get the cab door.
“Take good care of your girl. She’s a beauty.” He says to me in a strongly accented voice as I lift her out.
“She’s not my girl.” I tell him.
“Yet…” He says giving me a hearty pat on the back and a wink.
No. Not ever.
It’s not very dignified, but I have to give Sylvie a fireman’s lift in order to
I’m startled out of these thoughts by my phone ringing. It’s Darcey. I pick up but talk in a hushed voice so as not to disturb Sylvie.
“Where did you disappear to and why are you whispering?” Darcey demands. “What the fuck are you getting up to… or don’t I want to know?”
“Keep your hair on. I’m not getting fucked up or falling off the wagon. I’m being the knight in shining armour for once – although I’m not really sure why.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Look I haven’t got time for your shady, cryptic shit. You coming for drinks at The Castle?
“No. I’ve kind of got my hands full at the moment.”
“The bitch ex is missing too, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”
“No.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Come on Darce, what would I be doing with Jamie’s ex?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe going off your track record over the past couple of weeks… fucking her?”
“That’s a fucking low blow Darcey. Give me some credit!”
“Sorry Blake.” She sighs, “It’s been a long afternoon.”
“Go get pissed.” I order her.
“Stay out of trouble and don’t get fucked up.” She orders back.
“I won’t.” The contradiction in my answer hangs heavy in the brief silence between us.
“I presume you need somewhere to stay again tonight?” She asks.
“If that’s okay?”
“Of course it is. Call me – when you’re through with your knightly shit.” She sighs, and then hangs up.
I go back to watching Sylvie.
In what seems like no time at all, the barman is calling over to say that the taxi I called is here.
I sweep Sylvie up into my arms. She weighs nothing. Her arms wrap around my neck and she buries her face there. I swear I feel her lips on me and I feel all sorts of things that I shouldn’t. That dark scent of hers is so fucking intoxicating. I don’t need any other drug. Just her. I want the walk to the taxi to last for ever.
I’m being carried. Why the fuck am I being carried? Everything is a blur. I can’t remember what it is I’m supposed to be doing. There is something, but my mind can’t quite get a grip on it. Strong arms are holding me. I feel flooded by a sense of ease. It could be that incredible smell that is making me feel calm and safe. It’s spicy and warm and wraps around me like an alcohol infused dream. An unfamiliar voice penetrates my reverie. It’s rough and deep but gentle.
I open my eyes and take in a face, an unbelievably stunning face. I must be dreaming. A pair of strange pale eyes meet mine. So beautiful! I’m in the arms of a beautiful dark angel; mirroring everything that I am, understanding every feeling that I’ve ever had, and have forgotten.
My salvation. My forgiveness. Now I can rest.
Sylvie fucking Smith! I don’t want to think about that moment when she looked up at me, and it felt like the whole fucking world came to a halt. I can’t let myself think about it. I’m going to get this girl home and then I’m going to run and stay as far away as possible, for as long as possible. Right now she’s wrapped around me and fuck me if it doesn’t feel so right. So right, and yet so terribly wrong. I wish that this girl wasn’t the girl. But she is, in more ways than I care to think about.
The cab pulls up outside her place, and my heart sinks a little at the thought of moving her from where she’s settled on my lap. I could stare at her face forever.
I have to move her to pay the cabbie. I give him a huge tip, and he jumps out to get the cab door.
“Take good care of your girl. She’s a beauty.” He says to me in a strongly accented voice as I lift her out.
“She’s not my girl.” I tell him.
“Yet…” He says giving me a hearty pat on the back and a wink.
No. Not ever.
It’s not very dignified, but I have to give Sylvie a fireman’s lift in order to
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