Page 63 of Clean Point

Silently, we headed out of the kitchen, and upstairs, the already long corridor feeling more like miles than metres. He walked alongside me, our arms brushing every so often and each small touch had me closing my eyes, breathing in. The heat inside of me spurred hotter, the need for him only growing. We reached my room first, and the already awkward air grew heavy and almost unbearable.

‘This is me.’ I immediately fought the urge to slap myself in the face. Six weeks living together, as if Nico didn’t know where I slept? My cheeks had burned hot as I watched a teasing smile curl onto his lips. I almost missed the more difficult days where he would’ve already grunted and run.

Instead, he looked at me, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite place, leaned forward, and kissed me on the cheek. The simple touch was electric, his lips pressing against my skin. My fingers, despite the injury, curled into fists, my breath restricted, my lungs tight.

‘Goodnight, Scottie,’ he’d said softly, taking one last look. Then he turned and continued down the hallway.

I hadn’t dared to move until he turned the corner, disappearing into the night. All the while, I cursed myself with every name under the sun for letting him go.

28

Scottie

Superbloodmoon (feat. d4vd) – Holly Humberstone

Nico smirked across the breakfast bar at me, the curve of his lips yet another reminder of exactly what had gone down on this very surface just the night before.

My lips against his. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling and rubbing. His hands down my skirt.

I swallowed yet another uncomfortable mouthful of oatmeal, looking down at the bowl as I tried to avoid eye contact with Nico and another blush threatened to rise to my cheeks. He was already there when I came down for breakfast, a cocky look all over his face, as if he had been waiting for me since the sun had risen. As if he might not have slept at all.

‘Did you get up to anything last night, Scottie?’ Nico leaned forward on his elbows, his head between his hands as if he was a schoolgirl looking for his dish on the latest drama. I gritted my teeth, trying to find some resolve.

It had been tempted for a moment to tell him what I really did after he left me last night. What I did when I was finally alone. How I couldn’t stop myself from crying his name. How the thought of him had kept me twisting up in my sheets all night. How I ran the batteries of my vibrator flat trying to chase away the memory of him telling me how wet I was when he’d had his hand down my skirt.

Instead, my answer was the squeak of a mouse, heat rising to my cheeks despite every effort to contain the embarrassment. ‘Nothing.’

I should really be a lot cooler than this. It wasn’t even sex. I’d done worse with many more people, but there was something different about it this time.

Being with me, with what I would bring to his life. Drama, and that lack of privacy I’d given away over the last few years, the press following my every step, hunting me around cities. Nico was used to putting on a baseball hat, enjoying his peace. When we’d arrived at the airport here, that was the first time he’d been pap-ed in years. I’d checked last night, trying to find topless photos of him. Meanwhile, these last weeks were the longest I could remember not seeing any paparazzi. I was surprised they hadn’t reported me missing.

He took a bite from the corner of his toast. Chewing had never looked so self-satisfied. ‘Aren’t you going to ask what I got up to?’

‘I’m not sure I need to ask.’

‘Ask what?’ Jon appeared from over my shoulder, storming through the kitchen as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

‘Nothing,’ I stammered, almost choking on air. ‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘It’s good you’re both here, anyway. I thought you might be taking advantage of the day off to sleep in.’

We had practice later in the day, but mostly we were wrapping up the intense schedule of the camp. We’d be travelling tomorrow, and then the focus would be adjusting back to London conditions.

‘Didn’t get much sleep last night,’ Nico said, his tone unusually chipper for a man who apparently didn’t get his full eight hours.

Jon took a sip from his bottle. ‘Why not?’

‘I was a bit distracted.’

‘I guess that’s to be expected.’ If Jon had any inkling of something going on between us, it didn’t show. ‘Are you both packed?’

‘Still a bit to go, but I’ll finish after breakfast,’ I managed, trying to stop myself from looking over at Nico.

‘Good.’ Jon moved on. ‘Listen … I’ve got some news.’

His words pulled Nico’s gaze from me, the burning spotlight finally turned. ‘What?’

‘I need both of you to stay … calm. I don’t want to get punched again.’

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