Ed and I have to move eventually, so at nine, with the tour bus groaning to a stop and the constant rain drumming on the roof, I force myself away from the bed and to my feet. He smiles as I get up and drags himself to my side.
"Thank you," he murmurs gently. I know exactly what he means, and I am grateful, too.
Brought together by friendship, bound together by music, tied by a single kiss. I don't feel any regret for what I said or did and neither does he. All the time I wasted seeing him as only a friend is only that: wasted time. And after two kisses and a billion different confessions, I finally feel right.
Things are moving quite quickly, I guess. I mean, Ed only sort of told me how he felt yesterday morning, and now we're making out and sleeping beside eachother. But I feel it, you know? I feel the power between us.
And he tells me I make him significant. He rides rollercoasters at Disneyland with me and writes me letters and runs down roads because we're late for soundcheck at my side. I remember the day I first heard his music, when I went to an indie festival with Selena, Ashley, Claire and Diana.
That was the day that inspired '22', actually. We dressed up in floaty tops and nerd glasses and drove to the festival in the park and danced and kissed strangers and drank pink champagne. That was the best night of my life, because I felt like a normal person instead of some explosive tabloid star. And on the drive home at midnight to Diana's house, we talked about how we were going to make waffles for breakfast at twelve am, and 'The A Team' was playing on the radio. I asked who was singing, and Claire said Ed Sheeran, and I got into all of his stuff from there on. When my manager Scott got in touch with Ed's manager, Stuart, they organised a meeting for the two of us, and now look at where we are.
This is our first stop on the tour where we'll be staying inside a hotel. It's great, because it fixes that awful cabin fever of living on a rickety fold-out bed. The luxury of some real walls sounds like a Beverly Hills mansion.
When our bus parks up underneath the sky-high hotel, I am the first of many to spill out of the doors. All my luggage is in a rolling suitcase, so it's easy to escape. Ed follows behind me like a loyal pet. I know what it must look like to everybody else; Taylor and Ed, both freshly showered, leaving a single room together. Wincing, I stare at my shoes as the Agency flow from their tour bus. Naturaully, Caitlin is the first to notice us, and she is like a siren letting everybody else know.
"Oh my God!" She shrieks, her dark braid bouncing as she sprints over to us. Her hands grip my shoulders tight. "Did you just hit Teddy Bear?"
I feel my cheeks burning, and people are laughing all around. Ed must be just as red as I am standing behind me.
"I did not hit Teddy Bear," I protest. It's not a lie, because I didn't hit a teddy bear, but it feels like one. "That's a grotesque phrase."
"Grotesque like what you two were up to on the bus," Grant teases, darting up to me and running his hand through his spiky hair. It sparkles with all the gel in it. Ed takes a step closer to me, and I feel his shoulder touch mine.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice who's standing across from me, and a sweeping wave of horror comes crashing down like a tsunami. My mother is awkwardly hovering on the edge of the scene, finger-combing her limp blonde hair, pretending not to listen. How can my friends say such awful things beside my mother?
"We didn't do anything but play guitar," I say firmly. "You're just insulting our friendship."
Ed tenses next to me.
"Talk all you like, but there's something going on," insists Paul.
"Shut up," I say jokingly, but I don't mean it as a joke. "You're in the band, but you're not in this friendship."
YOU ARE READING
Red (Ted Sweeran Romance)
Fanfiction"Love is as easy as ABC." That's what everybody Taylor has ever known has always seemed to tell her. Her family, her friends, even some of her past lovers. But if she's knocking down the letters of the alphabet, Taylor's already at Plan G, and she h...
