Part 66 (1/2)
He pushes his fringe back. ”I didn't want anybody to confuse me with Nate again. Ever.”
The intense look he gives me confirms my earlier suspicion. Will did change how he looks because of me. ”Three facts: one, I have wanted to get to know you for two years. Two, I regret lying to you more than you can imagine. Three, you are an incredible girl with a big heart, which I wanted a piece of.”
I wrinkle my nose. ”Nice, you wanted a piece of me.”
”No, I wanted a piece of your heart. Yeah, the first reason I told you I was Nate was to join the group. But the fact is, I spent time with the girl I've obsessed about for a long time and she got under my skin.”
I set the box on the stair next to me. ”How could I ever trust you?”
Will points at his head. ”I changed because of you. Not just my hair. Even before, I realised how s.h.i.+t I was being with chicks and how I was doing it to keep up with my brother. When I saw you with Shaun that night, something hit home; disgust over how guys can treat girls like Shaun does.”
I shake my head. ”Are you trying to tell me you've transformed into a sensitive, loving guy?”
He peers at me from under his fringe. ”Why not find out?”
”The self-a.s.sured aspect hasn't left then?”
”Give me a chance, Fleur. Something was building between us; now I have a different name, that's all.”
I look past him, fighting the part of me who's missed the guy's humour and attentiveness. The girl who, even though she didn't want to, adored his protective nature and the affection in his eyes. I believe he never deliberately played games; the only thing he hid was his name. But that's a huge hurdle to me.
”I remember that night after the concert, when Nate was rude. Your reaction surprised me and for a split second, I thought you'd switched that evening. I thought maybe Nate was the Will I met at the first party.”
”No, that was all me. I didn't mean to embarra.s.s you. I genuinely wanted to talk to you.”
”Uh huh.”
Somebody pushes through the bodies between us and the lounge, in an attempt to reach the stairs. Nate stops and looks between us.
”Whoa, you never give up, do you?” he says to his brother.
”Why else do you think I wanted to come to her birthday party?”
”Birthday?” He blinks. ”Didn't know.”
”Twenty-first,” I say.
”Cool. I don't remember ours. Happy birthday.”
”Thanks.”
Nate leans against the stair bannister and peers down at his brother. If I'd known the pair better at the time of Will's deceit, I'm positive I'd have been aware. Nate's att.i.tude toward me is indifferent; his scrutiny holds an edge of disdain.
”You told her everything?” Nate asks.
”Like what?”
”Like the chick last week.”
I straighten and move my leg from Will's.
”What chick?”
”The journalist.”
”Nothing happened!”
”Dude, she practically pinned you to the wall.”
”Yeah, and I told her to leave me alone.”
Nate snorts. ”Sure, man.”
”I'm not interested in other girls! I want Fleur,” blurts Will.
Nate's face doesn't match the shock in mine. ”Yeah, I know. 'Til you get her; then you'll become bored of waiting for what you really want. I doubt she'll give it up so easily.”
”Why the f.u.c.k is it your business?” replies Will.
Nate makes a derisive noise and pulls himself from the bannister. He edges around and squeezes past before pausing to look at me. ”It may've been me who said the words to you that night after the gig, Fleur, but I was only telling you what Will wouldn't.”
”What does that mean?” I ask.
”He wants to f.u.c.k you. And I saw the look on your face when you thought I was him with the girls, that night after the gig. You were jealous. f.u.c.k the rock star already, if that's what you want, Fleur, and we can get this s.h.i.+t over with. You won't mean anything soon. We're heading up and there's no room for chicks there.” Nate points at the ceiling, stumbles, and then walks up the remaining stairs.
I'd definitely never mistake that guy for Will.
I study my shoes, focusing on the scuffmark at the edge of my toes, as I tune out the twins. Almost. I almost believed Will for a moment there. They're experts at sweet-talking. Did Nate just call his brother out?
I half-listen to a nearby group who talk over each other in their drunk state. The box Will brought rests on the step next to me and adds to my confusion. Buying something, which took thought, is a bizarre gesture and not one of somebody looking for a quick f.u.c.k.
Separate him from what I've heard and read. See him as Will and not a Ruby Riot twin.
”Is Nate right? Is that what you want?” I ask after a couple minutes.
How do I interpret his expression? His dark eyes hold a mix of anger and concern, hands clenched over his knees. Will doesn't speak, and his steady gaze has a familiar effect on my heart rate. Why can't I dislike this man after everything he did?
”Do I want to f.u.c.k you?” he asks in a low voice.
”Yes.”
”No. I told you the other night.”
I switch my scrutiny to the half-empty beer cup, to the froth edging the sides.
”Fleur, I want to take you out, talk to you, listen to you. I want to share my free time with you. Be with you.” He reaches out and touches my hand; and instead of recoiling, I let him curl his fingers around mine. ”I want us. Of course, I want to kiss, touch, and everything else you can imagine. Maybe some things you can't imagine too.” He bites his lip. ”Sorry. But, f.u.c.k you? No.”