Roger stares at me with a slightly surprised look in his eyes, his expression otherwise neutral. My eyes flicker over to the girl who's wrapped around him like a spider monkey. Her eyes are shooting daggers at me, and I stifle the urge to turn around and walk out of here.
"Hey, Skylar," Roger finally replies in that casual way of his, my name sounding more like Sky-lah. The girl leans over to whisper something in his ear, but he doesn't react and his eyes remain locked on mine. We must look ridiculous, staring at each other in the middle of a raucous bar, but, apparently, it's all that we can manage at the moment.
"Coming through, coming through!" A petite younger woman announces loudly as she pushes her way through the crowd and weasels her way in between Roger and his date.
"Sorry, love, just need a quick chat with my brother," the woman--who must be Clare--says to the other woman, flashing a saccharine smile.
"Want to grab us another round?" Roger suggests to the blonde. Her head swivels between his sister and me, and, after giving him a cutesy little pout, she reluctantly heads over to the bar.
Apparently, the Taylor family is big into hugging, because that's the first thing that Clare does after introducing herself. She reminds me of my roommate in uni: bubbly, sassy, and able to trick you into spilling every secret about yourself within the first five minutes. Roger watches us embrace with a funny look on his face as if he can't decide how he feels about this moment.
Clare walks back to Roger and casually drapes an arm around his shoulder. "Rog, it occurs to me that I forgot to mention that Skylar phoned while you were gone."
Roger looks at me briefly before training his blue eyes on his sister. "You forgot to--" He runs a hand through his perfectly-tousled hair. "I hate you sometimes, Clare."
"I hate you too, Rog," she replies before aggressively ruffling his hair, which likely had taken him forever to style.
"Get off!" he complains, trying unsuccessfully to stop her attack. Once his hair is sufficiently messed up, she sticks her tongue out at him and traipses over to the bar with a wide grin on her face.
"Oh, Rooooooger!" Clare calls over to us. "Don't forget to tell Skylar about how you're a very important person in some parts of the world. Maybe that'll impress her." She sticks her tongue out at him again for good measure.
I cover my mouth with my hand to conceal my amusement at the look of mild horror on Roger's face. He briefly closes his eyes and shakes his head slightly before opening them again and focusing on me.
"Sorry about that... I really wanted a little brother, but what I got was her." Roger finally gives me a small smile as he hastily smoothes down his hair. His usually fair skin has a slight glow from the Australian sun, and he looks really, really good.
"So, uh, you phoned?" He shoves one hand into the back pocket of his jeans, and the other tightly clasps his pint of beer. We remain standing apart from one other as if the distance will save us from any potential awkwardness or misunderstanding.
"I did, yeah. I, uh, forgot that you were traveling."
"Took you long enough," he mutters. He stares just past me as he reaches a hand inside his half-buttoned shirt to nervously rub his collarbone.
"Yeah, about that--"
"Look, this isn't a great time, Skylar. I'm sort of in the middle of something here." He glances over my shoulder towards the bar.
My heart sinks. Look, I'm not an idiot. Obviously this was a likely outcome tonight. It's not as if I expected a man like Roger Taylor to wait around for me, and clearly, he hasn't. In fact, I shouldn't even be here. This whole thing with him is stupid and distracting, and the last thing that I need in my life.
"Yeah, I get it," I reply coolly, trying to save face. "Didn't mean to barge in. I just, uh, wanted to stop by and say hi. Maybe we can get a coffee-- or whatever-- you know, whenever you have time. Or not, it's not really a big deal..."
"Yeah, sure," he says as I trail off, his eyes looking anywhere but at me. I have the urge to grab his shoulder and shake him, explaining that I swear that I didn't intentionally ignore you, and, most importantly, I'm trying to get out of my own goddamn way when it comes to you, okay!?
Instead, I stand there for another few seconds before mumbling goodbye. Then I hightail it across the room in search of Jenny, who's chatting with Brian. And by 'chatting,' I mean snogging.
"I'm going to head out," I shout to be heard over the music.
"No luck?" Her tone is light, but her eyes convey sympathy. Brian politely looks over towards the door, pretending that he's not overhearing our conversation.
"Nah, but no big deal." I ignore the fact that it had taken Jenny a solid 24 hours to convince me to come here tonight and, in the process, it had sort of become a big deal in my head. "I'll see you at home later, yeah?"
"Skylar--" she starts to say.
"It's better this way," I reply quickly with what I hope is a convincing smile. Giving her and Brian a little wave, I walk through the crowded bar until I'm on the other side of the room. I discreetly look over to the bar where Roger is standing by his date, a cheeky smile on his face. He leans closer to say something in her ear, and I want to physically pry them apart.
Taking refuge in the nearby bathroom, I place my hands on the cold porcelain sink and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes unusually bright. My mind is racing a million miles a minute, and I force my thoughts to slow down. It's okay, Skylar. This would complicate your life too much.
Just walk away.
Walk.
Away.
After washing my hands, I walk through the swinging doors intent on getting out of here as quickly as possible. I'm so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I fail to notice the blonde leaning against the wall across from the bathroom entrance. I'm halfway down the hall when I hear a gruff voice call my name.
Furrowing my brow, I turn to see Roger standing in the shadows smoking a cigarette, clearly waiting for me. I stop in my tracks and watch as he exhales a puff of smoke. He pushes himself off the wall and walks over slowly as if he too is trying to get a handle on the situation.
We stand close to one another, but it feels as if we're a million miles apart. My eyes dart between him as I mentally beg him for some hint of what he's thinking. He scratches his head and stares down at the floor for a long moment before sneaking a peek up at me.
Just then, a woman staggers past us towards the bathroom. Her shoulder drunkenly hits mine, forcing me to take a step forward. Roger instinctively puts an arm out to steady me, and, in the process, pulls me slightly closer. Our proximity makes my breath hitch, and I swear that I can feel the heat emanating from his body, as ridiculous as that sounds.
I hesitate for a few seconds before gathering my courage and closing the distance between us. I start to reach my arms towards Roger but pause halfway. His lips part slightly, prompting me to loop my arms around his neck and pull him into an embrace.
"Hi," I breathe into his hair, relaxing my body into his.
"Hi," he replies softly as his arms wrap securely around my waist.
"Roger, I—"
"Do you want to get out of here?"
Surprised, I pull away. What happened to Mr. I'm in the Middle of Something Important?
"Shit, I don't mean that sexually," he adds, misinterpreting my silence. His hand snakes under his shirt as he once again rubs his collarbone absentmindedly.
"You sure about that?" I grin up at him, poking him lightly in the stomach.
"I mostly didn't mean that sexually," he clarifies with a smirk.
"But you're in the middle of something." As soon as the words leave my mouth, Roger exhales and shifts his body weight from one leg to the other. Slowly, he places a hand against the wall behind me, just next to my face, and leans closer.
"I promise you that I'm not."
His eyes are once again expressionless, and I wish more than anything that I could interpret them.
"Okay," I reply softly.
"Okay?"
"Okay, let's get out of here." Roger looks momentarily surprised, which is quickly replaced by a breathtaking smile. Without another word, he takes my hand and guides us through the crowd, not stopping until we have on our coats and are standing just outside the pub.
"We could go to a club?" he offers, knowing that it's one of the few public venues still open and probably not wanting to seem too forward.
"Is, uh-- is your place far?" I look down shyly, not knowing what his reaction will be.
"Uh- well- a bit- I mean, um, further than yours," he stammers. I look up, pleased that he seems to feel as flustered as I am.
"Ah, but will Brian and Jenny be having very loud sex at your flat? Because I'm fairly certain that they will be at mine."
"Really? I wouldn't have pegged Brian for a screamer."
"You'd be surprised. The stuff I hear--"
As if on command, the two lovebirds in question spill out of the pub door, lips locked and arms twisted around each other. Roger and I burst out laughing as he grabs my hand to walk towards the taxi stand.
We sit in silence the entire way to his flat, both of us looking studiously out of our respective windows. The air is thick with tension and uncertainty, at least that's what it feels like to me. It's not until we're inside his apartment that he looks at me with a small, unsure small on his face.
"Hi," he repeats, taking a step closer. The light from a passing car illuminates his face briefly before fading so that we're left in a half-dark entryway.
"Hi," I say, expecting that he's going to lean in to kiss me but, instead, he wraps his arms around me and lifts me slightly off the ground. As noted previously, the Taylors are huggers.
"I missed you, Sky," he says quietly.
"It sounds like your trip was so insane that you didn't have time to miss anyone," I reply with a shy smile. "It sounds like you all barely managed to escape alive."
"Well... okay, I missed you approximately ten percent of the time," he jokes. We pull away from each other, and his eyes soften. He helps me off with my coat and, each time his hands make contact with my arm, it sort of makes me want to jump him. Roger must be able to see how tense I am because he runs a hand lightly over my back.
"Relax," he says with a small, breathy laugh before leading me further into his flat. It's smaller than I expected, especially given how well Queen seems to be doing. That's not to say that it's not nice, because it's surprisingly clean and well-decorated.
"Sorry, it's not exactly Buckingham Palace," Roger says apologetically. "Though it's a bit more tidy than usual, seeing as Clare has been staying here."
"Is she, uh-- is she coming back here tonight?"
Roger stops unexpectedly so that I run smack into him, my hands nestled between my body and his chest. I can feel the hardness of his abs beneath his shirt, and, honestly, I feel a little weak in the knees.
"Why do you ask?" He looks down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
As I stammer a response, he lets out a little chuckle and takes my elbow to guide me further down the hall. I stand in the doorway until he switches on a light, and I realize that we're in his bedroom. I look around, wondering if maybe--just maaaaaaybe--this is going a bit too quickly.
"God, you should see your face," Roger says from across the room. "Get your mind out of the gutter, woman."
"Oh, that's not what-- uh-- I-- um--"
"I didn't bring you here to shag you," he continues, his words making me both deeply disappointed and relieved at the same time.
"...But now that we've hopefully moved beyond all our bullshit, I'm also not letting you escape. So we may as well get comfortable. Anyway, we've already slept together, and you've already felt me up, so this is nothing new."
His grin is infectious, and soon I'm sporting one as well. I consider what he's said and, after a moment's hesitation, walk over to the enormous collection of records that line one wall.
"Wow," I say quietly as I walk the length of the room, stopping to pull out a Def Leppard EP. I hear Roger come up behind me and feel his arms around my waist, pulling me closer so that I'm leaning against him.
"I really did miss you," he says softly just about my ear.
"Is this part of your usual seduction scheme?" I joke, turning towards him.
"Nope," he replies swiftly, his eyes serious. "If I were going that route, then--" his arm starts to snake towards my ass, which I brush off laughingly.
I replace the record back in its rightful home and walk over to sit on the edge of the bed. Looking around the room, I wonder how many women he's brought here. Probably more than a few. I say a little prayer that he's at least cleaned his sheets, because otherwise--
"Not very many," he says, interrupting my thoughts as he walks over to sit on the other side of the bed.
"Hmm?"
"You're wondering if you're the thousandth woman to be here, aren't you?" He looks at me with one eyebrow cocked, a knowing smirk on his face.
"What?! N- no..."
"Mmhmm," he hums as he flops back onto his pillow, tucking his hands behind his head. "Well, I'll have you know that I almost never bring anyone back here. In fact, I can't remember the last time that I did."
"Because it's easier when you don't have to kick them out in the morning?" I mirror his cocky expression, one eyebrow raised. He bursts into laughter and props his head up on one arm.
"Precisely, Skylar. You nailed it right on the head, love."
I look over at him, and, very slowly, lay down on the bed facing him. We're both fully clothed, and the light is on, but the moment feels almost uncomfortably intimate. Roger holds my gaze for a beat and then twists around, reaching for the lamp. I extend my arm to grasp his hand, stopping it in mid-air.
"Maybe we can try to have a conversation when we can actually see each other," I suggest softly. Roger pretends to mull this over and then nods agreeably, brushing his bangs out of his eyes and laying his head on the pillow so that he's facing me.
"So," I say, "How was your trip?"
"Bloody awful," he says with a groan. "God, it was the worst, Sky. The good news is that Fred told a reporter that we won't go back there until we're the biggest band in the world, so I suppose it'll be eons before I have to go back, if ever.
"I'm not sure about that," I reply lightly. "I was just reading about you guys in NME--
"Oh, has the issue already come out?"
I nod, a proud smile on my face. "It's clear that you guys are going somewhere, Rog. Just... maybe not in Australia."
Roger playfully tweaks my nose with his hand before he launches into the full account of what happened, complete with the blow-by-blow of the 30-hour flight there and back. At one point, we're laughing so hard that I'm crying. He reaches out and gently brushes the tears away, prompting more laughter from us both.
"Okay, okay, enough about me. Tell me about what's been going on with you."
"Oh, Lord, where do I even begin?"
"At the beginning," he replies earnestly.
So we lay there chattering away happily for hours. We talk about everything and nothing, the only topic that we stay away from is what this is and where it might go. After a while, it's clear that neither of us can keep our eyes open much longer.
"I should go," I say, reluctantly sitting up.
"Yeah, that's not happening," he says with a tired smile. He motions me towards him and pulls me against his chest, my head nestled in the crook of his neck. With a sigh of contentment, he reaches over to switch off the light, and we're bathed in darkness.
"Goodnight, Skylar," he says sleepily, his arm tightening around me. I move my head forward a few inches and gently press a kiss to the underside of his chin just before closing my eyes and drifting off into a deep sleep.
**
Sorry for such a long chapter! Thanks for sticking with it. xx