Chapter 14: Flirty
"The cocktail bar thing was something different," I said to Charlotte. "Think you've got your stories mixed up."
Catching hold of Ed's wandering hand, I slid it back onto his own lap, then crossed my legs. The aching gap between my thighs begged for attention, and that wasn't going to help my determination to behave myself tonight—especially with tales of my wilder uni days floating around the table.
"So... Are you going to elaborate on the cocktail bar thing...?" Ed raised both hands to the tabletop and threaded together his fingers, tilting his head to the side as his blue eyes landed on me.
"No," I said shortly.
"Charlotte?" he asked.
Apparently Charlotte had registered my change in attitude because she simply smiled and lifted a bare shoulder in a dismissive shrug.
"Also with a boyfriend. She was infatuated. Don't worry."
That insinuation didn't sit well with me, either. Infatuation had nothing to do with it.
"Same boyfriend, not that it matters. And I didn't do it because I was infatuated. I did it because I wanted to suck—"
At the last moment I caught myself, but it was still too late. Ed's dark brow raised ever so slightly at me, a silent question passing between us. I wanted the ground to swallow me up, despite almost bragging seconds earlier that I'd done it without shame or pressure.
And although it was Charlotte who adored Hattie Steele, I instantly became a fan when she appeared at the head of our table and completely derailed the cocktail bar conversation.
"Hey, handsome." She playfully bumped her fist against Ed's shoulder before her sparkling eyes drifted over the rest of us. "Introduce me to your friends?"
Rising from his seat, Ed leaned to give her a brief hug. Pain flashed through my jaw as I watched, and I consciously relaxed my clenched teeth, smiling instead while Ed reeled off our names and triggered another set of stage fright from Charlotte.
Hattie Steele looked a lot younger in real life, closer to her actual age of twenty, but her confidence and humility shone through as she pulled up a chair and asked Gabby where she'd bought her dress.
When Ed sunk into the seat next to me again, he deliberately knocked his knee against mine, and I immediately resented the jealousy that had simmered through my veins. It wasn't the embrace itself which bothered me, but rather the unwelcome emotions that witnessing it had sparked. After all, I'd encouraged him to flirt with her. But knowing about it and seeing it were two different things.
"And is that a tattoo, as well?" Hattie took Gabby's hand and inspected the initial inked onto her fourth finger.
"My girlfriend's initial," Gabby said, jerking her head towards Charlotte.
In turn, Charlotte extended her own hand forwards to display the letter G. "In our defence, we are madly in love, but we were smashed when we got them done on holiday last year. I always say that Gabby has the better end of the deal. The letter C can easily be turned into a G if the relationship goes tits up, whereas I'll have to stick to girls whose names begin with G for the rest of my life."
We all laughed. Like with every relationship in the honeymoon phase, I couldn't see the two of them ever breaking up. At some point they would presumably face challenges, but they seemed so strong that I imagined they'd get through it. Certain people just look like they belong together.
"Speaking of girls." Hattie shifted her attention across to Ed, who stiffened beside me. "Love your latest song. Who stomped on your heart to inspire that piece of genius?"
I'd heard it a hundred times before—speculation on social media, questions from journalists, debates on the radio—but it never got any easier. That fucking song continued to haunt us, well and truly immortalising the blow-up between Ed and me, and witnessing the surrounding gossip over what had inspired the lyrics only rubbed salt in the wound.
Ed chuckled politely. "Calling it a piece of genius is very kind."
"It's raw, powerful, vulnerable... How many weeks in the charts now?"
He scratched at the back of his neck. "Eh, not sure. Fifteen maybe."
Seventeen. And he damn well knew it, too.
"Are you going to sing tonight?" he then asked her. "Stage is all yours. You totally should."
"Oh, please," Charlotte gasped. "You would literally make my life if you did. Just don't tell my girlfriend I said that."
Gabby smiled and rolled her eyes, but I could see her hope shining through. She really wanted this to be the perfect night for Charlotte.
"Will you sing with me?" Hattie asked Ed. "Help my nerves?"
He hid his panic well, but I could feel the tension in his body, the tap of his foot against the floor beneath the table.
"You should have that stage to yourself," he said. "You deserve all eyes on you only."
Her lips curved into a resigned smile. "Sure. A big-timer like you probably wouldn't be familiar with a smaller artist's songs, anyway."
Although she said it with no malice whatsoever, I knew Ed would be mortified at the suggestion and I felt a small pang of sympathy. Only small, though. He'd been flirting with her over the past week—the least he could have done was learn a song or two.
"You're not a small artist," he said. "You sold out your tour in seconds. You're doing Wembley later this year! A stage like this is nothing, trust me. You'll nail it."
"Thanks." She acknowledged his compliment with a nudge and a tiny smile before her attention was diverted by someone further across the room. "Holy shit—is that Gerard Burton?"
Charlotte gasped and spun in her seat, grabbing Gabby's hand. "I told you, Gab!"
Hattie excused herself at that, while Charlotte and Gabby considered heading for the dancefloor—under the pretence of dancing when they just wanted a closer view.
"You two go. I'll stay here with Teddy," I said.
Once they disappeared out of earshot, hand-in-hand as they tottered on their heels under the effect of alcohol, Ed released a soft sigh.
"I hate it when you call me Teddy."
"Wasn't sure which you'd prefer in the situation. Sorry."
"No, you're good, don't worry. It's only because it reminds me of how long it took to wear you down and get you to call me by my real name."
I grinned and slid my hand across the table to brush my fingers over his in reassurance. Before anyone could notice, I withdrew my touch and cupped my glass instead.
"I feel like a tool with Hattie, though," he said.
"So you should. The poor girl wasted a week of her life flirting with you, and you couldn't even be bothered to learn one song."
"Pot, kettle, black. You flirted with me despite not knowing my music."
"Not really the same, is it? If I had known your music, then—"
"And speaking of you being a hypocrite..." He twisted to face me head on, his lips quirking. "Very interesting to learn that you're not unfamiliar with... What were your words? Oh yeah: kneeling on the cold, hard floor of a dirty bathroom."
The teasing twinkle in his eye sent a delicious shiver down my spine. It had been a while since he'd tried to press my buttons like this, and it was working. Not least because now I couldn't help imagining it was him I was on my knees in front of.
A triumphant smile ghosted his lips. "Ah, so my theory is correct, then. The look in your eyes says it all."
"Again..." I swallowed down the husky wobble in my voice. "It's not the same. I was twenty, naïve, and in a relationship with a guy who wasn't a public figure."
After a glance over his shoulder, Ed shuffled closer to me. One of his legs slid to part both of mine until his knee pressed lightly against the space between my thighs. As I focused to keep my cool, his hand curled around my waist, the heat of his palm burning through the thin lace of my top.
"And if I asked you today..." he said, his voice lower as his mouth tickled my ear. "Twenty-six, not in a relationship, but potentially still naïve when it suits you..."
"When it suits me?"
"Mmhm..." The vibrations reverberated along my jaw, and I felt my body leaning into him, my hips rocking to grind against his knee. "When you're in desperate need of my dick inside you. Whether it's in your mouth, your pussy, or your—"
I slapped a finger over his lips, glaring when I spotted the dark twinkle in his eyes—the knowing glint that showed he'd won this particular battle. And he had. My heart thudded against my ribcage, my underwear was soaked, and my head was picturing deliciously dirty images of us in a bathroom together.
But while he knew he'd affected me, he wasn't going to lead me astray. I could still hold that power over him.
"I'm going to join Gabby and Charlotte," I said. "If you'll please move out of my way."
Grinning, he leaned back in his seat and gestured for me to climb over him.
I narrowed my eyes. "Move."
After making me wait for a few more torturous seconds under the heat of his intense stare, he rose from his seat and let me squeeze through the tiny gap between his body and the table.
Although the dancefloor was a lot warmer than our table, a noticeable chill consumed my skin.
*
Hattie Steele's music was very different to Teddy Stone's. Her songs had more of an electronic vibe, and with her deep, sultry voice singing the lyrics, they had a sexier edge, too. And nothing fills out a dancefloor on a Saturday night like a sexy dance track.
After a couple of hours away from Ed, I'd cooled off somewhat, but his physical effect on me had instead morphed into something much deeper and harder to shake. Flashbacks of the music school bounced through my head, making me dizzy under the strobe lighting of the club. I excused myself to the bathroom and ran my wrists under the cold tap to shock some sense into me.
Ed and I weren't a thing. At least not an official thing—although maybe there lay the problem. We were something. We just couldn't be that something in public, especially when he'd spent the past week flirting with the girl who'd just finished singing on stage.
But fuck me if I didn't want him. Everything about him. The whole experience: his body, his mind, his heart. And it terrified me. Because I loved my job: it had turned my life around. I couldn't throw that away.
Something had flipped this week, though. Some hidden switch in my head. Some small box I'd stowed away after everything went to shit earlier this year. Spending the last few months disguising my feelings had been exhausting; accepting them was overwhelming.
Fuck this. I needed to go home. But as I headed for the bathroom door, it opened, and Hattie Steele strolled in. Her eyes lit up upon seeing me, and I felt an irrational flash of guilt.
"Oh, good. I was hoping I'd bump into you." She crossed over to the sink and fluffed up her hair in the mirror.
"Great set," I said. "You smashed it."
She tossed me a grateful smile. "Thanks. This club is amazing. I'm glad Teddy invited me."
"Given your tour sold out so quickly, we're the lucky ones for being able to watch you perform tonight."
Was that too much? She didn't seem to think so, twisting to face me and resting her hip against the sink counter as her neutral eyes swept over my body.
"Can I ask you something personal? It's about Teddy."
Alarm bells rang in my head as I frantically tried to recall all the information Helen had drilled into me for moments like this.
"Uh, sure," I said.
"Are you and him a thing? I promise I'm not being nosey, but I noticed a vibe between you at the table, and I'm kind of hoping I'd misinterpreted some of his messages over the past week."
Fuck.
"Misinterpreted in what way?" I stalled for time as I considered how to respond.
Hattie shrugged. "They seemed quite flirty. I'm not really into him but I didn't want to be rude, you know? He's got so much influence in this industry so the last thing I wanted to do was insult him. Then I saw the way he looked at you, and I thought maybe they weren't flirty after all. Maybe I have nothing to worry about?"
I suppressed my sigh of relief, smiling instead. "He's a very friendly guy. You might be right that the friendliness came across as something else, but either way he won't be offended that you're not into him."
"Between you and me, music is a tough industry for women. Sometimes we need to...you know...get ahead."
She let that comment hang in the air between us, suggestive enough to encourage me to draw my own conclusions while being vague enough that she could easily deny it if challenged.
"I get it," I said.
"Anyway, I'm heading off. But it was great to meet you. I hope Charlotte enjoys her birthday."
I stayed in the bathroom for a few more minutes after she'd left, needing to cool off again thanks to the intensity of the conversation. Ed had very nearly landed himself in another mess with that one, but thankfully it had worked in our favour this time.
Once sufficiently calm, I reached for the handle and stepped outside before I could change my mind and hide away all night.
"Enjoying yourself?"
The deep voice coming from the darkness startled me as I left the bathroom, and when my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I spotted Ed leaning against the wall at the far end of the corridor, almost invisible if it weren't for his bright white shirt.
"Is there a reason you're hanging around the bathrooms?" I asked, peering over my shoulder to check we were alone before strolling towards him.
"Hoping to pick up the right kind of girl, if you catch my drift."
His lips twitched as he suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the warmth of his body, large hands sliding down my sides to settle low on my hips.
Fuck. I really should have gone home.
***
Thank you for reading :) xx
***
What did you think of Hattie?
Is Ed going to lead Soph astray or vice versa? Or are they both too sensible to do anything risky?