In Other Words…Chapter Seventy-Six
Niall’s POV
The shows have been incredible, enough dates under our belt to where we’re able to goof around a bit more onstage without running too much of a risk of missing our cues or catching on fire from the pyro cannons. And already we were settling into the whole touring routine; promo in the mornings, the afternoons basically free, crew dinner catered at the venue, show time then sleep. Except for me that last part never came easy.
I lay atop the duvet, hair still wet from the shower, my fingers drumming out the rhythm to some song that was stuck in my head but I couldn’t place. I could call her again, but I knew she was trying to make some headway with our paperwork today, getting the contracts in order with the blokes who would be doing the renovations on the pub, filing for our licenses; none of the fun stuff I was interested in, mostly.
It wasn’t just her voice that I wanted; I wanted to feel her legs caught between mine, the cotton shorts she so often slept in ridding up over her thighs, exposing that soft skin with the tiny blonde hairs you could only see when the lighting was just so. I wanted to watch her pretend to not be falling asleep as I blathered on and on, her eyelids drooping and then flinging back open quickly. Fucking hell. It was just too quiet in here. After a solid three hours of one hundred decibels the near silence of the hotel room (minus the irritating humming of the mini-fridge) was almost maddening. I think I may just ask one of the lads to start bunking if neither of us had plus ones. Even Zayn’s snoring would be better than this.
With a quick glance at the clock on the table, I got up and tugged on my trousers. There was a bar in this hotel, and I was hoping they’d still be serving.
Roxy’s POV
Thirty minutes to kill before my meeting with the contractors, and I was never more thankful. I needed to grab something to eat, and spare those guys from dealing with me in my hungry state. Tesco’s would have to do. I hurried to the case in the back and chose a tuna sandwich until thinking better of it and tossing it back into the pile. Turkey is probably a safer option.
The woman in front of me in line loaded her items onto the belt at an excruciatingly slow pace. I was tempted to peel open the wrapper and begin eating, until one of the rag mags on the stand in the aisle caught my eye. Spring Nuptials for Blonde Boybander said the headline, with the grainiest picture of my ring plastered beneath one of Niall looking absolutely stunning. As happy as I was that my less picture-perfect face was missing from the page, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes a little and thumb at the corners, not wanting to actually remove the paper from its stand, but curious to see a little of what had been written.
The “source” had given all of the intimate details of our wedding ceremony, from the location down to the type of flowers that I would carry in my bouquet. I actually considered buying the fucking thing because it could save me the trouble of having to plan this event myself. I hadn’t even begun to think about a date let alone what color napkins to use. How exhausting.
“Don’t give your money to those blaggers, love.” Said the kind-faced woman behind the cash register as she quickly scanned my sandwich and read my total.
“No? Looks like some quality journalism in this issue.” I smiled, leaving the paper on the shelf and handing her a few bills.
Strangely enough, with all of the shit on my plate at the moment, I wasn’t feeling the least bit overwhelmed. We were in a good place with the pub, all of the date and budget forecasts turning out to be nearly spot-on thus far. I kept my fingers crossed we wouldn’t run into any snags, especially over the next couple of weeks, since my parents were coming to stay- Dad getting a last minute offer to trade vacation time with a colleague. I knew it would be a treat to have them here to keep me company, and I was really looking forward to showing them around London; perhaps we’d even take the train to Paris for a day or two. But at the same time I was really pretty bummed that Niall wouldn’t be around for any of it.
My fingers pressed the buttons on my door, sending all four of the windows down and I leaned the seat back a tiny bit. There was a wonderful breeze, no sense in not taking advantage of it, even if that means sitting in a parking lot eating a mediocre sandwich while listening to BBC2, Jeremy Vine discussing working as a coffee barista and being groped in public.
Niall’s POV
The empty seat at the end of the rail was calling my name; I slid in, pulled the hat off my head and tossed it to the bartop, waiting for the bartender to come over, eyeing the screens above the mirrored wall lined with liquor bottles. There were a few people scattered about, mostly men, their ties hanging loosely around their necks and their sport coats slung over random chair-backs, perhaps stopping in for one or two stiff drinks after a long day of hand-shaking or stock-trading or whatever it was that men in suits got up to around here.
Caught up in yet another daydream, I swirled the ice cubes in my glass, and held my finger to the bartender once I caught her eye, signaling that I’d like another. It was going down so smooth tonight, and I would surely be ready to head back to my room after one more. Especially since the only thing worth watching on any of these televisions was the sports news channel, and they’d already looped the same set of clips and commentary twice as I sat here.
“Seat taken?” said a small voice, accent thick. I snagged my hat up from the counter and shook my head, offering up the space to the blonde woman and trading the bartender my empty glass for the full one. “I’ll have the same.” The woman said, tossing her small purse onto the bar and cracking a wry smile. She was wearing a basic black dress, but it fit her incredibly well. “Rough night?”
“Nah.” I looked down, admiring the way the glass magnified the grain of the wood beneath it. “Just stopped in for a nightcap.” I really hated it when people pretended not to recognize me. But I really loved it when they genuinely didn’t. “You?” I added out of politeness.
“Kinda.” She laughed. “Work stuff.”
“What do you do?” I turned in my chair toward her. “For a living?” She sipped her drink, and I detected the tiniest of grimaces.
“Don’t ask me and I won’t ask you.” She smirked. “Not that I really need to ask you.”
“Ah.” I said, assuming that was enough of an answer to my question. She’d recognized me, but didn’t want that fact to be out in the open. It was intriguing, actually. “Have ya got a name?” She nodded.
“Michelle.” She said, extending her hand.
“Pleasure t’meet ya. I’m Niall.” I said.
“Not from around here, are you Niall?” she said, hiding her smirk behind the rim of her glass.
“Just passing through, actually.” We talked for a little while, just long enough for me to finish my drink and watch the ice cubes begin to melt. It was nice just to be able to chat casually- something I never really realized I missed out on until the opportunity came up for me to do it. In any case, this girl seemed pretty nice, and hadn’t asked me for a picture or to sign a napkin, or anything really. I almost felt the need to thank her.
Too bad none of the lads were single.
“I better pack it in.” I said, tucking my hat over my head and reaching into my pocket, realizing then that I’d left my wallet. “Add it to my room?” I said to the bartender, who nodded, loading my empty glass into the washtub and running the wet cloth where the condensation had left a little ring. “Hers too. Room 419.”
“You don’t have to…” Michelle said.
“I’m aware.” I smiled. “Goodnight.”
Sinking into the mattress, I fumbled for the switch to cut the light, my head swimming just slightly from the booze. Sleep would come quickly now, and that was such a relief. Two pillows beneath my head, I piled the others beside me, so that when I woke in the middle of the night I could just press backward against them and feel less alone in this bed. I found my cell amidst the blankets, settled and ready to make my goodnight phone call.
There was a soft knocking, and I waited, half-unsure if I was hearing it upon someone else’s door. A few seconds went by before the sound repeated, and I flung back the sheets, not bothering with trousers since it was probably Louis who had better give a good reason for coming to my door at two a.m. “Whaddaya…” I pulled open the door. “Oh.”
“Hi.” Michelle said, a bit unsteady in her heels where she leaned against the doorframe.
“Uhh hi.” I managed.
“Can I come in?” She’d put on a fresh coat of lipgloss, which was almost enough to distract from where the heavy makeup on her eyes had smeared a little. I was suddenly hyper-aware that I was standing before her in my boxers, and I closed the door part way, positioning my lower half behind it.
“I don’t think…” She pressed her warm hand to my bare chest, and she used the opportunity granted when I pulled back from her touch to squeeze past me and into the dark hotel room. I let the door fall closed and quickly palmed at the wall, flipping on every one of the six switches. “What are you doing?
“You looked a little lonely.” She hummed. “Thought you could use some company for the night.”
“You thought very wrong.” I said. “I apologize if I gave you the impression that I…that…” She took a few steps toward me, uncomfortably close.
“No one would have to know.” She whispered. Was that her breath upon my skin?
“I’m engaged.” I said.
“Me too.” She smiled. My back was against the door now, and I could feel her bare thigh upon my own; I couldn’t breathe let alone move. A few years ago and I probably wouldn’t have let this opportunity go to waste, and I would have woken in the morning feeling sleazy and hating myself, scrubbing my body in the shower until my skin was raw and red.
“Get out.” I spat. “I’m going to call security.”
“You invited me here.” She said. “Bought me a drink, gave me your room number, remember?”
“It wasn’t an invitation. Get out.” I repeated. I felt the anger rising in my gut, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. The scraping of her fingernail at my ribs was the last straw. I grabbed her wrist.
Roxy’s POV
My phone rang a little later than I was expecting it to. Honestly, I thought maybe he’d fallen asleep, and I’d just hear from him much later tonight when he woke up, apologizing unnecessarily. I quickly turned down the volume of the radio and got situated in a decent lane on the freeway before answering.
“Baby?” he said.
“Hey, thought you’d fallen asleep.” I said.
“No.” he said quietly. Generally this would be the time when he’d tell me something funny that had happened since the last time we spoke, followed by a detailed list of what the next day’s plan was. But all he gave me was that single word. No.
“Ni? All tucked in?”
“Not really.” he said.
“What’s wrong?” I said, my hands unconsciously gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Is everyone okay?” He hesitated about a second longer than I would have liked him to.
“Everyone’s fine.” He breathed. He went on to tell me that some loony tune had forced her way into his room. I could feel him get more and more worked up as he spoke, and my stomach churned along with every word. “Nothing happened.” He said. He must have said it ten times.
“Niall.” I said
“Nothing happened, you believe me, right?”
“Niall.” I repeated, finally met with his silence. “If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened.” I could feel him relax against the receiver.
“You’re not upset?” he mumbled.
“Of course I’m upset!” I sighed. “I don’t like the idea that anyone caught you off-guard in the middle of the fucking night. Where was your security?”
“Toilet.” He said simply. “I just wish you were here.” He added. “Woulda never gotten into this.”
“You don’t know that.” I said.
“Yeh. I do. I wouldn’t have been missing you, so I wouldn’t have had trouble sleeping, so I wouldn’t have gone down for a drink and then that crazy bird wouldn’t have shown up at my door.”
“Why don’t you beat yourself up a little more about this?” I said sarcastically. “Besides, who’s to say if I had been there that we wouldn’t have gone down for drinks and picked her up anyway? You know? Maybe she’d have shown up, looking to have a bit of fun with the two of us.” I heard him rustling against his blankets.
“You’d be into that, wouldn’t ya?” he chuckled.
“You’ve got me there, Horan.” I smiled.