Page 7 of Fake Rocks
We went into the kitchen and it struck me how much smaller, yet more homely it was than the one in the Barnes’ house. I’d never expected to be such a connoisseur of kitchen decor.
“How was your first day?” asked Aunt Annie, when we were seated at the table about to tuck into our food.
I finished chewing my mouthful of chicken pie. “Good. I’ve got a lot to learn, but I think I did okay?” I cast a glance in Uncle Col’s direction for confirmation.
“You did good, Tris. Keep following my instructions and you’ll be fine.” He paused, staring down at the table. “Your mother would be proud of you.”
A lump immediately formed in my throat. It had been a long, long time since anyone had said that to me. I took a deep breath and composed myself.
“Thank you, means a lot,” I managed.
Aunt Annie squeezed my arm without saying a word, her eyes glassy as well as she blinked back tears. It almost set me off too. She changed the subject, asking what we wanted for our lunch tomorrow.
After dinner, I could barely keep my eyes open and rather than fall asleep on the sofa, I headed up to my room. I lay on my bed, scrolling through social media, then on a whim decided to search Saff Barnes. There were pictures of her singing with her band, a few candid paparazzi shots of her, usually locking lips with some bloke and some more polished, modelling shots. I closed my eyes and thought of the real-life version I’d seen that morning. My hand snaked inside my jeans, as I recalled the image. My dick stiffened in response and I quickly pulled myself off hoping no-one would catch me focusing on the images. Or the fact I was jerking off at all.
When I came, my cheeks burned.
What the hell was I doing?
Saff Barnes was not what my fresh start should be about. Probably best I didn’t think about her again.
5
Saff
The insistent ringing of my phone brought me out of my slumber. I screwed up my eyes and tried to open them. As I cracked open an eyelid, I wondered where the hell I was. Sitting bolt upright, I stared at the nondescript furnishings and white walls until I realised I was in a hotel room. And there was a warm body, snoring gently beside me hidden by the covers.
I grabbed my phone and hurried into the bathroom, squinting as I switched on the light and locked the door behind me.
Jonas’ name flashed unrelentingly on the screen.
“Where the fuck are you?” he yelled.
I held the phone at a distance, putting him on speaker. “Ssssh, you’ll wake up…” My voice trailed off. I had no idea who he’d be waking up. I didn’t know who I’d gone home with last night. Or not home as the case might be.
“You might want to tell me what you were doing with Troy Carson again.”
Ah. That explained it. He must be the one in the bed. Shit.
My gaze slipped to my reflection in the mirror. I was wearing my bra and panties and, apparently, half my make-up down my face. I brought a hand to my cheek to touch the kohl and glanced around the room for some facial wipes or at least some soap. Once Jonas had finished yelling at me, I’d sort myself out.
The previous night was a bit of a blur. After meeting up with Darren and Barney, I’d gone into town and hooked up with Rosie. We’d done a bit of shopping along the King’s Road, then headed into Covent Garden to check out a couple of new bars there. Then it started to go fuzzy. There had been champagne, cocktails…shots.
And men.
One of which had been Troy Carson.
I vaguely remembered kissing him outside one of the bars, full on tongues and everything. Which I guessed a budding paparazzi had seen and snapped and put on some gossip website. At least it wasn’t in print this time.
“I, um…” What could I say to Jonas? I didn’t know if it was Troy in the bed, and if it was, what had happened last night.
“Come home, Saff.” Jonas sighed. “We’ll talk more when you get here. And don’t forget the builders are here.” He hung up and I stood there, staring at myself, the phone hanging limply in my hand.
Trying to ignore the headache coming on, banging around the back of my skull, I turned on the taps and washed my face, scrubbing away the previous evening’s grime and dirt. At least I could face Troy with fresh skin, if perhaps not a fresh outlook. I took a deep breath as I opened the door and went back into the room.
“Morning, sunshine!” a female voice called from the bed.
“Shit! Rosie!” A grin spread across my face as I clocked my best friend propped up against the pillows. “I had no idea it was you. I thought I’d come back with Troy Carson.”
