Sing •Ricky Wilson•

Chapter Eleven • Coming Home

I made my way to the door and let myself out onto the corridor. "See you tomorrow, Will." I said.
"Yeah, nice talking to you!" He answered.

I stammered slowly to my room and opened the door gingerly. Ricky hadn't returned yet, so I undressed myself and opened the closet, gliding my fingers over his selection of different clothes. I pulled out the same white-and-grey t-shirt (not wanting to be cheeky and wear another of his beautiful tops) and slid it over my head.

I climbed into the bed and delved under the covers, passionately fighting my urge to fall asleep. I needed to make sure Ricky would come back. If he stayed the night at Georgia's, I wouldn't know how to react.

To keep my eyes open, I turned on the bedside light and checked my phone for messages. My sudden high hopes for a text off of him were shattered. Only one from my phone company, informing me of my latest balance. Although it was probably the most uninteresting thing of the night, I still decided to read through it once more, trying to burn as much time as I could. I checked the clock: 11.46. I was drunk and tired. And I almost felt myself drifting off until the door swung open abruptly, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.

"It's just me." Ricky said, staggering inside and closing the door behind him before kicking off his shoes and unexpectedly unbuttoning his waistcoat. Then his shirt. I was too exhausted to comment. He entered the bathroom, a pair of white plaid pajama shorts in his hand.
I placed my phone onto the bedside table and sat up, waiting for him to return. A few minutes later, he made an appearance, shirtless and only covered by his shorts. He jumped into bed with me and lay on his side, his big blue eyes dazzling up at me.

"I hate you." I said, holding back a smile.
"Why?" He answered. I looked at him.
"Because, it's," I re-checked the time. "11.55. And you left me for Georgia."
"You could have come with us!" He argued, grinning.
"No thanks." I said. I paused. "What did you two get up to then?"
"Nothing, really." He replied. I lay down too and faced him.
"Don't be like this. Just tell me." I demanded gently.
"We just talked. Honest. She said that she thought you were very nice, and that I should have stayed with you." He said.
"Then why didn't you?" I asked him.
"Because I knew you'd get jealous." He answered, a smirk pulling on the corner of his mouth.
"You're an idiot." I said after a moment.
"Yes, but I'm a smart idiot. I mean, it worked, didn't it?" He replied.
"I guess. But I'm leaving tomorrow, and it was a stupid thing to do." I said.
He sighed miserably. "I know. Don't remind me. I'm dreading it." He said.
"How come?"
"I'll miss you. I won't see you till rehearsals in a month. That's four weeks away. Four weeks. I don't want to be without you for four weeks." He said.
"Aww," I mumbled, smiling.
"It's true. I've not seen enough of you yet." He said.
"I think you've seen far more than any coach should see of their act. You do realise that we're in bed together, right? I'm pretty sure Tom doesn't do this with his acts." I joked, laughing.
"Yeah, but it's still not enough. I want you to stay here with me." He whimpered.
"You're going home too in a few days." I told him.
He groaned. "Life's not fair." He muttered.
"Well, I've had the best two days of my life with you. It's been amazing. And when I get back here in a month, I'll find a way to sneak into your hotel again." I said, laughing.
"Don't get me excited. I'm supposed to be upset." He said, pouting.
"C'mon. You're drunk, remember? You wouldn't be sad if you were sober." I stated.
"Yes I would."
"No you wouldn't. If you were sober, you wouldn't have left me for Georgia." I argued.
"I didn't leave you. I would never leave you. You're too special to me." He said, our eyes locked.
"You're too drunk, to me." I joked, rolling over and switching off the main light source, so there was only the brightness of the bedside lamp to provide visibility.
"I wish you weren't in the competition." He said out of nowhere.
"That's a bit harsh." I said, my eyes wide.
"I just mean, you could have chosen a different coach. Not me. Why did you choose me?" He asked.
"I chose you because you sweet talked me into your team." I said, confused. "Why don't you want me as your act?"
"Because now we can't have a thing." He answered. I pulled the covers over my chest and looked at him.
"Have a what?"
"A relationship."
I groaned and rolled my eyes at him. "Just about twenty minutes ago you were walking home a girl that you had previously called beautiful." I said.
"And, right now I'm in bed with a girl I have previously called beautiful." He said.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"How would me being on another team be better for you? I mean, if I was on Will's team it would be much weirder for you to be in bed with his act." I said.
"True. But at least it wouldn't mean that you would be kicked out of the competition." He said.
"Hm. I don't think you thought this through." I said.
"Maybe not. I just want you to myself." He established, reaching over and placing his warm hand on my waist under the sheets. I flinched suddenly, but soon calmed down, and took advantage of the opportunity by moving in closer to him.
"So, you do like me then." I said with a smirk.
"How could you tell?" He asked me sarcastically.
"Well, we might have to wait until the competition's over." I replied.