Her Song

18 - Like a Virgin

"Duchess," Van's voice was somewhere between a purr and a growl as he backed me into the corner of the lift as the doors closed behind us.

Oh god.

How on earth did I tell him that I was starting to like his touch way too much? We'd become far to hands on with each other and I was starting to crave it. Waking up each morning to feel his heat and hardness, in all of the ways, at my back was something I was beginning to expect and it was starting to terrify me. Even Bradley, who I'd begun to weave happy-ever-after wedding fantasies about before everything had come crashing down, hadn't made me feel the same shaking need that Van did. It wasn't sensible and it was far from sane. Particularly considering the decision I was about to make. A decision that would mean Van would have to be crazy to get involved in any way with me. Single mothers would have to be somewhere near the top of the list of women best avoided by up and coming rock musicians. Along with employees, friends and flatmates. Just look at that, I was the perfect all-rounder.

Of course when he had me cornered and was watching me with his intense dark eyes it was virtually impossible to formulate any of those thoughts into any kind of coherent sentence. Still, when he leaned a fraction closer and asked, "What's wrong?" I tried. I did. I even opened my mouth to say something but what I blurted out was, "I'm fat." Alright then, apparently body-consciousness had floated to the top of all my other random concerns and insecurities.

Van's head snapped back. "You're what?"

"Fat," I replied in a tiny voice. As if he didn't know. Every single morning I woke up with his arms wrapped around me.

His eyes narrowed in displeasure and he gave me a long slow look from top to toe. The way his eyes lingered on my cleavage in the V neck of my t-shirt had so much heat rushing through me I felt as though I was bursting into flames.

"You are. Not. Fat," he ground out in a rough voice. "Not even close." He lifted his hand and I watched in open mouthed fascination as he traced the tip of his index finger across my collarbone. Up until this point I'd never believed in spontaneous human combustion but now I was a firm believer and convinced that it was about to happen to me. He leaned in closer just as the lift doors opened to reveal the lobby. "Fuck," he said as he took a step backwards, it was a word filled with frustration. He grabbed my hand a tugged me out of the lift with him. He looked down at me and said, "You and I are going to have to have a serious conversation later."

****

Van was onstage singing to an enraptured crowd. I'd stood in the wings and watched him, Josh, Ace and Gray for every performance so far on the tour and still hadn't grown tired of it. The crowds were big, not yet huge but they were definitely getting there. Their name was out there and their star was on the rise. They'd had a song in Bas's hugely successful foray into romantic comedy, their first album had roared up the charts and their previous tour had received rave reviews. These boys were set for superstardom, something that Fiona Arkwright's PR team seemed to have realised. Whilst the boys had a packed promotional schedule they were not appearing at the proverbial opening of an envelope. No, their appearances were well thought out and calculated for maximum impact. With Lucy in Los Angeles, making sure all the details for the US tour were perfect and attending the Oscars with Bas, it fell to me to make sure that here in the UK the band were where they needed to be when they were needed to be there. It was a responsibility I took seriously; I had no intention of letting anything stop these boys from reaching their full potential. Including the groupies who'd managed to score themselves backstage passes and were eyeing off the men on stage like a pack of hungry she-wolves.

Those girls hated me. Sure their passes got them backstage but a backstage pass wouldn't guarantee them a hook up with a band member. Josh was the designated manwhore with Ace not too far behind him but they both had a knack for avoiding even the faintest whiff of desperation when it came to the girls they hooked up with. And although Gray had been known to indulge he was picky and even after having watched on with interest and sometimes disgust I don't think I could say with any accuracy exactly what his type was. Of course along with the lead singer the lead guitarist was the holy grail for these types of girls and with Van having made it abundantly clear that he was well and truly off the market the backstage predators seemed to have well and truly gotten it into their collective heads that I was the source of all their man troubles.

Van glanced into the wings as he played and gave me a grin before turning his attention back to the crowd. It was impossible to stop the surge of excitement in my chest when he looked at me that way. I was an idiot who was riding for a fall because regardless of that weird little moment earlier on in the evening and our co-dependent sleeping habits the chances of us ever having a thing were slim. Still even with that knowledge it was impossible to hold back my smirk at the hiss that erupted from the groupies when they saw Van's and my little moment of eye contact. Obviously the music was too loud for me to hear it but I felt it, like a shift in the atmosphere. The devil on my shoulder made me turn toward the group of girls and give them a smug little shrug of my shoulder. The intensity of the looks they sent my way had me thinking they were attempting some type of Darth Vader hands free strangulation move. Unfortunately for them my breathing was just fine. Well it was fine until the moment that Van sent me another intense look just before they launched into their final song of the set. Then my heart was racing and my breathing was shallow.

I stood there, mesmerised by his performance, sorry Gray, Josh and Ace. I'm sure they were all magic but I had eyes for no one but Van. A movement to my right had me glancing over my shoulder. The boldest of the groupies had approached, she was watching me with narrow-eyed jealousy. "Just who the hell do you think you are?" she seethed.

I plucked at the lanyard around my neck and dangled my access all areas pass in her face. "I know I'm part of their management team."

"Yeah well you need to go manage shit somewhere else instead of ruining everyone's fun around here," she scowled. Underneath all her make-up and bad attitude she could have been a pretty girl. I almost laughed in her face. She may have been the top dog on the local groupie scene but I hadn't survived years working in a cosmetic department for nothing. Hers was the kind of attitude I dealt with on a daily basis just to get the lunch rosters sorted.

"I'm managing just fine here thanks sweetie," I replied making sure to inject just a little extra bit of aristocratic bitch into my tone.

"You snotty cow," her lips curled back in a snarl and she lifted a hand. I can't tell you what she had planned but all of a sudden her hand dropped and her eyes went wide. It was the only warning I had before a pair of colourfully tattooed arms wrapped around me and I was spun around and pulled in tight to Van's damp chest.

"Duchess," he growled, "you can't stand side stage and look at me like that if you don't want me to do this..." The girl watching us in open mouthed shock was forgotten as he pushed me back into an equipment case and dropped his mouth to mine.

It was...divine.

I think we are all more than aware that this was not my first kiss - says the pregnant girl - but holy hell it felt like a Madonna song. I did feel touched for the very first time. Honestly if Bradley hadn't already knocked me up that kiss from Van would have done the job. Van's kisses defied reason. I thought I knew what kissing was, in one of my less bitter moods I'd even admit that Bradley was more than competent when it came to a lip lock but...wow...compared to Van Bradley's kisses were the work of a toddler.

When my body finally caught up to my brain's ecstatic realisation that the thing I'd been fantasising about way too much lately was finally happening I wrapped my limbs around him like a spider monkey and lost any scrap of sense I had in the heat of his kisses.

In that moment I didn't care where we were, who saw us or what they thought. Were the groupies still there? I didn't know and I didn't fucking care. Because if they were? Let them watch what it was like to kiss the man they were never going to have.