Page 32 of Wild Tonic
“I know you’re probably knackered, but you should really come and meet my friends,” she said.
“Really? You don’t want to hang out here for a bit first? Maybe carry on with those kisses?”
“It would feel rude if we did that.”
For a moment, Nate wanted to argue. But things were probably different in Clem’s circles and he needed to respect that. “Then let’s go and say hello.”
With a longing glance at the squishy looking bed, Nate retraced his steps downstairs. They went down into what was once the basement, and now was a games room, with sofas, a bar, a pool table and a collection of games consoles. If only there had been a guitar, it would have been perfect, and Nate could have pretended he was still at The Blacker Lodge. After such an intense period of creative activity, he found it hard to switch straight off.
Lounging around on the sofas were Leona with two guys and another girl. All of them had a glass of something and a joint was passed round. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, he thought.
Clem was by his side and took his hand as she made introductions. “So Leona you already met. This is Alfie, Liam and Anastasia.”
The guy called Liam took a deep toke on the joint as he appraised Nate, his eyes narrowing. Nate couldn’t be sure whether that was against the smoke or dislike.
“Hi, Nate,” said Anastasia.
His eyes scanned over her. She looked like the type of woman that came along to a Blood Stone Riot gig with the express intention of hooking up with one of the band. She held his gaze just that little bit longer than necessary, running the tip of her tongue over her lips. Just like Rach had. Nate shuddered.
“Any chance of a drink?” he asked.
“I’ll get you one,” offered Anastasia.
Clem had already beaten her to it, holding out a tumbler of what smelled like tequila. Jesus, if he drank that on top of lack of sleep and some weed, he’d be out within minutes. The two of them nestled down in one corner of the massive L-shaped sofa.
“What is it that you do, Nat?” asked Liam.
Nate inhaled sharply. The misuse of his name appeared deliberate and surely if the group was as close-knit as Clem alluded to, they would know exactly who he was.
“Nate’s a guitarist,” said Leona. “We were talking about that before he came downstairs…”
Leona’s voice trailed off and Nate knew immediately that Liam’s acts were deliberate. He swallowed a mouthful of tequila and decided to play him.
“Just got back from recording our new material. Got a few gigs lined up, though I don’t plan on leaving Clem for so long next time.” He stretched, running a proprietary hand along her thigh. “It’s going to be great to spend some quality time with this one. You jealous?” Nate felt Clem tense beside him. His assumption that they had once been together was correct. He didn’t want to upset her; however, his first impressions of Liam weren’t great.
“Not at all, Nate, not at all,” said Liam. He took another sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving Nate and Clem.
“And what is it you do? Or rather, what do you do when you’re not spending your trust fund?” Liam looked around the same age as Clem and could barely be out of university.
“What do you care? It’s not like we’ll be bumping into each other in the Square Mile or anything.”
“Ah, banking. Thought as much.” Nate laughed. The temperature in the room dipped a few notches.
“I’ve just started a graduate role in marketing,” volunteered Alfie, trying to steer the subject away from Liam.
“Then I should introduce you to Olivia Cole. She’s got her own PR company and she’s always looking for bright young things with new ideas.” Nate winced as he said the words. Since when had he become such an old man?
“Olivia’s great,” said Clem. “She really helped me out when I started onPretty Rich Things. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”
“How was Byron’s latest supper club?” asked Leona.
“No idea. I didn’t go because I was with Nate.”
As the group started talking about the show, Nate’s eyes started to droop. The tension that had appeared between him and Liam seemed to dissipate as quickly as it arrived. He rested his head on the back of the sofa and let sleep claim him.
Chapter Twenty-One
As Nate walked around the various venues for the WD Fest the next day, he was fairly sure that the attendees wouldn’t notice a member of Blood Stone Riot if he punched them in the face. Not that he’d actually do that, unless someone provoked him of course.
