{I'm totally stuck on a playlist for this one. Any suggestions are welcome. Happy reading, sorry if it's crappy and unedited. LOVE!!!}
Matty's POV.
My soul was still afire from last night, the images of Claire's face was I took her places she had never been flashing in my brain. The band and I were rehearsing for a show we had in a few days, but all I heard were the sounds that left her mouth as I made her came.
One day without seeing her was a day too long.
She had agreed to let me take her for coffee, and I gathered from the tone of her voice that she was a cluster of emotions. Hesitant. Nervous. Excited.
George had tied his hair back in a tiny pony tail and thrown his shirt off, wailing his arms and sweating everywhere. Ross was smiling, ear-to-ear, and doing that weird thing he does where it looks like he's fucking his bass. Adam was quiet, but that wasn't anything unusual.
What was unusual is that Adam wasn't communicating in his usual half-smiles and head nods to Ross. Something was off between them.
We finished up the last song of our rehearsal and George lit a blunt for us to pass around.
"It's hot as fuck in here," George said, throwing himself to the couch in our rehearsal room.
"That's just me, mate," I replied, resting myself on the arm of the couch.
Our rehearsal room was a god-send. Technically, it was a third bedroom, but it was spacious enough to hold George's drumset, our amps and equipment, and all six of my various guitars, without George's giant limbs being cramped.
"Did I tell you one of your girls came into the store and bought a Mac? She was trying to hint around to get information about you." George informed me.
George worked at a computer store super-chain. It was hilariously boring, but he didn't seem to mind it and he was good with electronics. He didn't necessarily need to work, but chose not to live off his parents' money. I had done the same.
"Who?" I asked. "Nevermind, I don't really care."
I didn't honestly, and felt kind of bad she was apparently weirding George out.
Ross hit the blunt nonchalantly and Adam glared at him hatefully. Adam was never hateful, even to people he hated.
"Hot, dark hair, mermaid tattoo. I forgot her name," George said.
The smoke nourished my lungs after I took it from Ross. "I did too," I admitted.
Mermaid tattoo and I had slept together a few months ago. I left the club with her after a show. She was hot, but couldn't keep my interest if her clothes were on.
"What's wrong Healy?" George asked. "Not interested?"
I passed the blunt to him and shook my head. "No. You'll always be my champion, George. I love you."
George let out a laugh and part of it got caught in his throat.
"I'm dipping out," Adam said, slapping hands with each of us respectively. "See you guys tonight."
"Yeah, mate," I said.
Adam nodded once at Ross, and Ross returned the nod.
I furrowed my brows at their interactions, and Adam left. Ross was texting someone frantically on his phone, a goofy grin on his face. George was finishing up the blunt and had put Drake on, nodding his heat to the beat and enjoying the chemical effects of the weed.
"Fucking Drizzzyyyyy," George said, giggling to himself.
After I texted Claire that I'd pick her up in an hour, I smoked a cigarette and looked at pictures of her Facebook. There was a very, very nice one of her and her friends at a waterpark. She was wearing a tasteful black one-piece that was mesh in the middle.
But I noticed it was soaked and the memories of her last night started to flood my brain again.
The girl next to her, who I could safely assume was Chelsea G (I still didn't understand the necessity of the G but just went with it) was wearing a bathing suit so small I'm sure it violated several strict pool guidelines.
I missed Claire.
"Who are you texting so much?" I pried with Ross.
"Your mom," Ross retorted.
I kicked him in the shin with my boot.
George snorted.
"Oh, fuck!" I exclaimed. "You're fucking Tinsley, aren't you?!" I realized.
Ross' face went white as a ghost.
"Yes!" George laughed wildly, clapping his giant hands together.
"No!" Ross yelled.
"Liar!" I pointed my finger at him. "That's why Hann's so pre-menstrual!"
George was wailing in laughter now, doubled over on the couch.
"How the fuck did you know?" Ross demanded.
"I can always tell," I assured him. "Be nice to her, though. She's a peach. And she does our designs for free, so don't piss her off."
Ross narrowed his dark eyes at me, and stroked his beard. "Fuck off, Healy. I really like her."
Aw.
Look at Ross, liking something other than his bass and beer.
George's laughter was dying down somewhat, and he was continuing to blare his tunes, settling on "Remember You" by Wiz Khalifa featuring the weekend.
"Good, she's a good girl," I said, congratulating my friend.
Ross explained that he and Tinsley had been sleeping together for a couple weeks now, and she was warming up his cold, bearded heart. He and I were attempting to have a serious conversation about the goals of love, but George was distracting us as he danced around the room, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
"Good to you, bad bitch, girl I think I might get used to you," he mumbled, shuffling his feet and bending his legs awkwardly.
Ross rolled his eyes at George, while I only encouraged his antics.
"Anyways," Ross went on. "We told Adam that we're together last night."
I perked up a brow. "And he's pissed?"
Ross shrugged. "Not exactly. I mean, he did tell me that if I hurt his sister he would kill me in more ways than necessary and find some other bearded douche to play bass in his band. But he wasn't angry per se. It's just been a little awkward."
I nodded. "Sos mate. He'll come around, Hann always does."
George danced his way to Ross and I.
"At least you were honest with him," George said, his tone less light-hearded now as he put his cigarette out. "That makes it easier. Living amongst the lie is the hard part."
I didn't meet George's eyes, but I knew he was looking at me to guage a reaction.
=
"Hey, babe," I greeted Claire as she made her way into my car.
She looked pretty today, as usual. Her long hair was tied at the top of her head, and she was wearing a pair of cute fitted overalls.
"Hi," she said.
I bent over the passenger seat to kiss her, but she turned her head.
"We need to talk first, Matty," she said.
I could respect that.
We drove in not entrely uncomfortable silence to the coffee shop, and was singing every word to "What's My Name" by Rihanna and Drake as it played on the radio. Her face was so animated as she sang along with every word, bobbing her head and swaying her hips in the passenger seat.
No wonder why she and George were such good friends; they shared a love of being absolute dweebs and worshipping Drake.
"Only thing we got on is the radioooo," she said, winking at me.
I despised it when she teased me.
She was slightly angry with me for my surprise present the other night, but not angry enough to reject my hand when I took it in hers as we waited in line to order our drinks. Claire ordered a frozen caramel something or another, and I ordered a black coffee.
"Black coffee? You're boring," she said.
"I think you know first-hand that I'm far from boring," I said.
Her cheeks blushed as she turned her gaze to her frozen concoction. I smirked at her, enthralled with watching her revisit the our steamy scene from last night.
"If we weren't in public, I woud slap that smirk right off your face," she said, her voice low.
This only made me smirk even more. She blushed a darker shade.
"Ouch, babe."
She slurped her drink, then offered for me to try it. The drink was way too sweet, barely tasting like coffee at all. Whipped cream had somehow found its way onto my fingertip and I poked the cupid's bow of her lovely mouth with my fingertip, the creamy white a contrast on her rosey-stained lips.
"Stop touching my mouth, Matty," she said, but giggled and licked the whipped cream from her lips.
She was only teasing herself.
"Are you angry with me for last night?" I asked her.
Claire swallowed her drink and looked pensive. "A little. You irritate me."
"You irritate me as well," I answered.
She roller her pretty eyes. "I don't know, Matty. You know I can't say no to you. You know I'm infatuated with you. You know that I...that I like you."
Why was any of this bad?
"You know that I know that this...whatever we're doing, it won't ever amount to anything. You'll find some other girl to be obsess about your vocabulary and your hair."
I groaned. George Daniel was playing her like a little marionette.
"Is this about George?" I asked, although I already knew.
Claire's gaze met mine, and she looked both sad and lustful. It was an odd assortment of emotions; but her face was so beautiful as it played them out.
"Not entirely," she said, slurping the last of her coffee. "I don't want to hurt him, Matty."
I reached across the table and took her hand in mine. "I don't either."
Claire's lashes fluttered, and we stared at each other for a moment, processing each other's internal dialogues.
"Babe," I said, bringing her hand to my mouth and kissing it. "You can't hurt yourself because you don't want to hurt George. But I'll wait, I'll do whatever you ask."
=
Claire's POV.
A B.
I got a fucking B on my Jane Austen essay. I groaned to my empty apartment, throwing my bag on the couch and putting the kettle on for tea.
The only B I needed in my life was to be played out loud while my girlfiriends and I sang every tune to "***Flawless". My palms made the six-page essay into a paper ball and I chucked it in the trashcan.
It was Matty.
That curly-haired fuck was to blame.
With his sweet-talk and relentless flirtations, he was making me lose focus of things that were important, like school. Instead, I was focusing on things that were of zero importance, like how well he could work that mouth of his.
If he could work his dick half as good as his mouth, I was in for major trouble.
My dirty thoughts were interrupted when my phone rang.
"Hey, Chels," I greeted my friend.
Naturally, I had filled her in on the events that took place between Matty and I the day after they unfolded. She was happy for me, but quite disappointed I dind't reciprocate. I tried to tell her he didn't exactly give me time, and she said something about how I had to make the time.
"Look outside," she said.
What?
"What do you mean?" I asked her.
"There's something at your doorstep," she said.
I giggled at her. Apparently, she had sent me something for my birthday.
"You didn't have to do that, Chelsea," I said opening the door.
My whole face lit up when I saw her standing there, wearing cute boyfriend jeans with holes in them, and a black bralette under a denim jacket.
She could get away with the whole bralette as a top thing.
"Surprise, bitch," she said, smirking.
Something between a scream and a laugh came out of my mouth as I wrapped my arms around my dear friend.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I shrieked, squeezing her tight.
I was so excited to see her. The only female friend I had here was Tinsley, and I was slowly, but gracefully, losing her to Ross.
"Visiting my Aunt Nan," she said. "Oh, and some girl named Claire who's supposed to be studying abroad. She's apparently studing the differences in oral sex from American boys versus English boys, and the effects of it on the female brain."
I had missed her so much.
Chelsea's Aunt Nan, aka Nanette Jones, was only about ten years older than we were. She had married a much older, much wealthier litigator, and the two had settled in Manchester. Aunt Nan was cool, and completely loaded. Chelsea had inherited her aunt's personality.
"Agh, Aunt Nan! You'll have to stay with me sometimes though!" I requested.
"Duh, I'm so thisty for a sleepover it's unreal," she said.
We released each other from our much-needed hug.
"You'll have to meet Tinnie! You'll love her," I assured her.
Chelsea G eyed me. "Sure. But I need to meet her fine-ass brother first."
=
Chelsea G. and Tinsley hit it off immediately, though I could tell she was disappointed to have met the female Hann sibling first. Reminding her that she would meet Adam at the club, along with the rest of the gang, seemed to ease her a little.
Tinsley drove to the club, and, as usual, that was a nightmare. How this girl had a valid license was beyond me.
A wide smile was on each of our faces. The three of us were so excited to go out, and I was enjoying the presence of estrogen, the oohing and ahhing over clothes, the doing of each other's makeup and hair. I truly needed it.
What I didn't need was Chels insisting that I "borrow a cute outfit from her", that consisted of high-waisted black booty shorts and a long-sleeve black crop top, heeled booties of the same shade at my feet.
At least it was more modest than my Cher costume.
My girls and I were dressed in black, head to toe. The crowd was more packed than usual, if that was possible, and I was glad I was not the least skantily-clad female there.
Chelsea G totally took that title, as she was wearing a black, blackless dress that stopped maybe two centimeters from her buttcrack and stappy black heels. Tinnie looked cute in black skinny pants and a black shoulderless top with matching boots.
"Six lemon drops, please," Chelsea requested from the bartnender.
"Ladies," Tinsley said, as we clinked each of the shot glasses in our hands with each other.
Noelle's shitty band was playing again, and luckily we were far enough away from the speakers that we didn't have to scream everything we said.
Chelsea shook her honey-blond hair across her shoulder. "To new friends, and old."
The shot was sweet and tart going down my throat, and I liked the sugar that had adhested itself to my lipstick.
"I know I said I'd wait but you really must ease up on the licking your lips thing," I heard Matty's voice say behind me.
I blushed and met his hands as they wrapped around my waist.
"Stop it," I giggled at him, moving his hands off my body, even though I wanted nothing more than for him to pull me closer.
Chelsea flashed an approving smile and Tinsley waved at Matty, who know stood at my side. He was looking ultra-cool, in black skinny jeans, a black v-neck, and a black leather jacket, despite the heat of the cramped club. Style before comfort, Healy.
"Hey, Tinnie," Matty said, pecking her on the forehead. "Heard you and Ross are fucking now. Let Matty know if he doesn't do everything you say."
Tinsley's pocelain face went crimson. "Will do, Matthew. But he's been nice so far."
Matty nodded. "He's a solid guy. I'm happy for you."
His smoldering eyes then went to Chelsea.
"Chelsea G!" he shrieked, I'm assuming immitating me.
"Matty," she said, in amusement with him.
Matty pulled her in for a hug, "I'm delighted to meet you."
Chelsea hugged him back. "I've heard a lot about you," she narrowed her eyes.
Matty smirked and quirked up an eyebrow. "Good things, I hope."
"Very good things," Chelsea answered him, giving him a knowing look.
He nodded his curls and winked at me. I wanted to disappear into the crowd behind us.
"Wish me good luck, love," Matty said, kissing me tenderly on the cheeks.
"Good luck," I murmured to myself as Matty met up with his friends, who were waiting for him nearby the stage.
Georgie was the first I spotted, his tower-esque height making him hard not to see. He was clapping his large hands together as Noelle and her lame band finished up their set. She jumped off the stage and into his arms, and the two of them made out grossly in front of everyone.
Tinsley blew Ross a kiss, and he winked at her. Chelsea G managed to lock eyes with Adam, and when she pretended to "adjust herself" and exposed about three-quarters of her breast, I think I heard Hann's gulp from even this distance.
The boys started off their show with Head.Cars.Bending, Matty whipping his hair around and Adam trying to focus on playing and not how Chelsea was moving her body. George looked like he was having the time of his life, a smile spread across his handsome face as he flailed his arms, hitting his drums with force.
They played a few more songs as my girls and I danced together, with Tinsley in the middle bobbing up and down to the beats.
The thirst was real in the audience, all the females dancing and staring at the boys.
At Matty.
I was proud of him, but part of me wanted him to be my little secret. I didn't want to have to share him with all these other girls who lusted after him.
"This one's for a friend of mine," Matty said into the microphone, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.
The boys played "Lost Boys" with Matty winking at me as he sang "I gotta give it to you."
I looked at my feet to make sure I hadn't melted into a puddle.
Matty smiled as he sang "ay-oh-a-oh", with George echoing his voals in perfect harmony. He leapt to stand on George's drumset as the two sang back-and-forth, finishing their last song.
=
George hadn't acknowledged me, other than a brief side-hug. We were all gathered at the bar, Tinsley and Ross hand in hand. Adam was blushing at every thing Chelsea said, and she was putting her best foot forward by touching his Geisha tattoo and oohing over it.
He had no idea what he was getting himself into.
I'd caught Matty staring at me a few times, but was making an attempt to play it cool. George was laughing hysterically at something Matty had said that I didn't quite hear, and his arm was draped over Noelle as she clung to him.
Gross.
I wanted to like her, but she just looked like an even trashier Sky Ferreira. And I knew she hated me, so I didn't even want to bother. George was alarmingly more receptive to her tonight, kissing her back when she kissed him, looking at her in the eye when she spoke.
Tinnie, Chelsea and I had downed a few more lemon drops, and Chelsea was now standing in between Adam's legs as he sat at a barstool.
"Matty!" an annoying voice screeched behind me.
A brunette shoulder-checked me as she strutted towards Matty, throwing her arms around his neck. She was pretty, but seemed annoying, probably because she was so close to my...friend.
"Hey, Daisy! I didn't see you!" Noelle said to the girl whose arms were wrapped around Matty's neck.
Of course they were friends. They were both hot, and super annoying.
I noticed an intricate mermaid tattoo on Daisy's forearm, which Matty was not bothering to move.
"It's been ages, Healy," Daisy said, her face way too close to Matty's.
He nodded at her, taking a sip of his drink.
"Let's go dance, baby," Noelle said to George, who happily followed her request.
Tinsley and Ross joined them, and Ross couldn't dance for shit, but it was cute to watch. Chelsea, of course, had dragged Adam on the dance floor and was immediately grinding on him. He was taken aback, but definitely didn't seem to mind.
"Can I get 7&&?" I asked the bartender.
My drink was at me in a few minutes, and Matty was still grossly close to Rose or Poppy or Violet or whatever the fuck her name was. I gulped my drink down fast and rolled my eyes in disdain as she and Matty were comparing tattoos.
"Wanna see my new one?" she ventured.
Matty nodded, putting a cigarette in his mouth as the girl put her leg on the barstool he was sitting at, revealing a tattoo of a daisy high in her inner thigh.
Daisy was her name, I remembered.
"Cute," Matty said to her.
"You're cute," she said, tracing the tattoo on his chest he'd gotten for his nana.
The one I have traced multiple times.
Fuck this, I thought to myself. I refuse to sit here amongst all of this booze and watch my friends have a good time, watch my twisted boyfriend-of-sorts flirt with another girl to make me jealous, to make me cave into him.
Drink in one hand, cigarette I had snuck from Matty's pack in the other, I made my way to the dance floor and danced alone. My eyes closed, and I enjoyed the music, some electronic stuff I woulnd't normally listen to but was vibing to because I was drunk.
I had become so enthralled in the music, so lost in my own thoughts, that I was startled by the sudden "ouch!" that rang from behind me. I whipped around to see who had fallen victim to Clumsy Claire.
Whoa.
He was hot.
He was tall, not George Daniel tall, but at least six feet. He had stubble and dark hair, with crystal blue eyes. And he was looking at his forearm, cringing.
His crystal blues met mine, and his cringe turned into a smile.
"You burned me," he said.
I noticed the tiny red mark on his muscular forearm.
"You'll live," I said, moving close to him and speaking into his ear.
The scent of cologne and gin filled my nose, and I smiled at him.
He laughed at me. "Hope so. I'm Nick."
"Claire," I said.
I thought of the first time I had met Matty in this very club, but immediately shook the thought away.
Nick wanted to buy me a drink, and he made some remarks about how much he also enjoyed 7&7's. He was polite, talkative, flirtacious but not overbearing. We spoke for a few minutes about the bands, the city, school.
Matty's dark eyes narrowed at me from a few people down. Daisy was still all over him like a fly on shit. If he wanted to play this game, I was all chips in. I stepped towards Nick, pretending like I couldn't hear him. I spoke into his ear again, and he blushed underneath his sexy stubble.
Matty was now avoiding Daisy altogether. She put a hand on his face and moved his head to look at her, but he shook her hand away and made his way towards myself and my new friend.
"Claire," he said.
Nick turned around. "Hey, mate. Cool show."
Matty ignored him.
"Having fun, I see?" he asked me, inching himself between Nick and I.
Nick made an awkward face and turned his gaze to the bartender.
"Loads," I said, reaching into Matty's back pocket and stealing a cigarette from him.
Matty licked his lips and lit the stick for me.
"You're trying to make me jealous," he said, putting his hand on my waist, his thumb pressing into my ribcage.
I met his dark eyes. "It's working."
He nodded at me, a smile tugging at his lips.
"You're trying to make me jealous, too, letting Daisy throw herself at you."
Matty exclaimed, a triumphant "ah!" coming from his mouth. "Fuck! Daisy! That's her name."
I rolled my eyes and sipped my drink. "You forgot her name even though she has a tattoo of a daisy on her inner thigh? Really?"
He shrugged a shoulder. "She's nothing to remember."
Both Daisy and Nick had walked away now, taking the hint. Matty's hand moved to my lower back, and he planted a few kisses along my jaw.
"Matthew," I protested.
He groaned. "Why not?"
I cocked my head to George, who wasn't actually looking at me, rather, he was making out with Noelle about thirty feet away.
"He doesn't seem to be paying attention, Claire," Matty said, continuing to kiss my jaw and making his way to the nape of my neck, hitting that sweet spot he's discovered and researched so well.
I pouted at him, and he bit his lip at me, taking my hand and proceding to drag me through the swarm of dancing, drunk bodies. He was taking me out the exit door, where we had our first encounter.
A giggle escaped my mouth as the door shut behind us and Matty pushed me against the cold brick wall, returning his mouth to my neck in hot, wet kisses.
"Mmm," I let out.
Matty's soft lips met mine, finally, and I took them in like they were mine, all mine. Our mouths moved together in hungry, aching harmony. I bit his bottom lip and he groaned, pressing his rock-hard groin against me.
"Look at us reminiscing," he said into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
I pressed my body against his as we explored each other's mouths, tongues sliding against each other in circles. Oh, how is tongue could make circles. Matty moaned into my mouth as I rubbed his cock outside his jeans.
Matty lifted me up, my back agaisnt the wall, my legs around his hips. His mouth met my chest, rough, hard kisses tingling my collar bones, the tops of my breasts. I gasped as his hands went underneath the fabric of my shorts, squeezing my ass forecefully.
I was so hypnotized by him.
I was so giddy over him.
Dizzy.
Drunk.
Falling.
Not even bothering to grasp onto anything to stop my demise.
I whimpered when Matty pulled down the fabric of my top, taking my nipple into his mouth and tracing the outline of the delicate bead with his tongue.
"Matty," I moaned aloud.
I was a good girl.
Remember?
I never got a B.
I never even kissed on the first date.
Matty nipped at my neck and I moaned once more. His fingers were making their way down my shorts, finding how wet I was for him. I panted into his mouth as hevfound my clit and began tracing it in circles.
I never did drugs.
I never got a speeding ticket.
I stayed in most weekends.
Two of Maty's caloused fingers were now inside me, moving in and out first slowly, then speeding up the pace, making me lightheaded and crazy.
I dated nice boys.
And now I was different.
Now I was a little more wild.
Now I was about to let Matthew Healy fuck me against a brick wall.
"Please," Matty moaned into my ear. "Please, Claire, please," he begged.
I moved my feet to the ground and spun around, Matty's back now against the wall. He was so hard I thought he was going to rip those tight black jeans of his. My hand traced the outline of his cock as I kissed him wildly, biting his lip once more.
He was so sexy, so bad, so sinful, captivating me with those chocolate eyes that fluttered open to look at me as I squeezed him.
And then, there was a bizarre expression on his face.
Bewilderment.
Confusion.
Disgust.
I looked behind me to see that we were not alone.
"Agh!" Matty groaned in horror.
I gasped and put my hand to my mouth.
"No way!" I whispered to him, buring my face in his chest.
Apparently we weren't the only two crazies who had decided to have a heavy-petting session outside the bar. Except I wouldn't really call what Chelsea and Adam were doing heavy-petting.
"Ugh, payback from Hann," Matty muttered, adjusting my top for me and stroking my hair.
The mood wasn't just killed, it was brutally murdered by seeing the image of my friend blowing his. I shook my head and giggled. Chelsea was going to have scrapes on her knees for days. She always got what she wanted, and, in the half-second I looked at Adam, it looked like he wanted it too.
Matty kissed me tenderly, romantically.
"Let's get you home, babe. We've had enough excitement for the night," he said, draping an arm over me.
Before we walked in the club, I rubbed the lipstick off his mouth. He flashed his adorable teeth at me and kissed me again anyways. I returned his smile, and pushed his hair out of his eyes.
"Remember when you said you wouldn't let me do that?" I asked him, blinking my lashes.
"What's that, babe?" he asked.
"Touch your hair. You said you wouldn't let me touch your hair until I let you fuck me, remember?" I reminded him.
Matty licked his lips and put a cigarette in the corner of them, his dark eyes locking me in place as we stood just outside the door.
"Mmm. I'll let you do anything you want, Claire."