Izabel became aware of three things all at the same time.
The first, there was a phone with notifications pinging left, right, and centre.
The second, she wasn’t in her own bed.
The third, Matt had her pinned in place.
His heavy arm held her back to his chest, his palm held her breast. His leg was between hers. His other arm lay beneath her neck, but his hand held a fistful of her hair. She wouldn’t have moved, even if she could, with Matt’s morning wood pressed up against her arse.
The phone pinged again. And again.
“Shut the fuck up,” Matt mumbled.
The frustration in his tone made her grin. “Someone’s popular this morning.”
He ran his palm over her body, his callouses catching on her skin. “How did your skin get to be this soft?” He laid a kiss on her jaw.
“Lots of shea butter from the Body Shop. I wait until there’s a sale and—”
“It was a rhetorical question.”
“Oh.”
She felt Matt grin against her skin as hips continued to nuzzle her neck. As he moved his hand lower, heading to the place between her legs that was already growing damp, the phone rang.
“Do you need to get that?” she asked.
“Not while you’re naked in my bed, I don’t.” The phone stopped ringing.
With his thigh between hers, she was already open to him.
“Mm,” she sighed, has he tenderly ran his finger between her lips.
“Are you sore? I was pretty rough in the shower yesterday.”
“Tender in a good and perfectly used way.”
Matt shifted so he was raised up on one elbow. “Tender as in a I’d-prefer-not-to-have-sex-right-now way, or tender as in make-love-to-me-Matt kind of way.”
She turned slightly so he could kiss her lips. “Definitely a make-love-to-me kind of way.”
“Good,” he said as he closed the gap between them. The kiss was slow, soft. A lazy exploration of each other. A complete and utter contrast to the evening before. If she’d felt as though sex with him at the wedding had been amazing, the last eight hours with him had been something altogether different.
His fingers entered her slowly, just as his phone rang again.
“For fuck’s sake,” he cursed, releasing her. “It might be Nan. Give me a sec. Only she’s this persistent this early in a morning.”
Izabel grinned as he rolled over and reached for his phone. She turned in the bed to study him. His back covered in tattoos. Joy Division song lyrics, an abstract guitar. She ran her fingers along them as he answered.
“What the fuck, Alex? Do I want to know why you’re up at six in the morning?”
There was a pause, and then Matt swung his legs out of bed. “Who the hell is that?’
Naked, he marched to his laptop on it and logged into something. “And she did what? Is that a fucking app or something?”
Matt dragged his hand through his hair as he scanned various screens. “It’s off the fucking charts. All of them. Millions of downloads.” His voice had gone from the gruffness he’d been in the middle of seducing her with, to unconfined excitement.
“Yeah…No…I will. Fuck me. This could be it, Alex. Yeah. I know. Later.”
Matt put the phone down but remained looking at the screen.
Curious, Izabel slipped out of bed and wandered over to him. “Is everything okay?”
Matt slid his hand around her and tugged her down onto his lap. “It’s better than okay. Look at this.”
Graphs with lines trending up exponentially. “What is it?”
“Downloads. Some American chick, Willow Warner, who’s the hero of some, I don’t know, like dance video app or something, used one of our songs to make a break-up video about her actor boyfriend. And now everyone is copying her with their own break-up videos, and our song is suddenly viral. And because it’s viral, people went looking for the song and found us. She has over a hundred million followers on her platform.”
She took Matt’s face in her hands. He looked…shellshocked. “That sounds like a great thing.”
“Iz, we made mid five-figures in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. And that’s just downloads. Add in streaming and all the other stuff. We might even hit a hundred grand if this keeps up.” He flicked around a few more places, each time becoming more and more excited. “Jesus Christ. You know, I always hoped we’d take off, but now it looks like it might be a possibility, I don’t actually know what to do next.”
“I think you celebrate. I think you and the band get together and figure out what this kind of money and profile does for you.”
“You’re right.” He pressed his lips to hers. “Christ, Iz. D’you know how badly I want this to be it?”
Izabel ran her fingers through his hair, her eyes focused on his. “Everything happens when it’s meant to, Matt. And it happens for a reason. If this is it, amazing. If this gives you a boost on the way to it, whatever it looks like, then also great. And if it’s not it at all, then it’s still a wonderful moment on the journey.”
He laid his head on her shoulder, breathing in the musky scent of her. “How are you so wise?”
Izabel chuckled. “Hardly. Yesterday, Gemma basically doubled my job without extra pay and asked me to do her shopping. Wasn’t wise enough to get out of that.”
Matt placed his hands on her cheeks. “You didn’t say yes, did you?”
“Sort of. I would have grabbed her a few things anyway, but I’m pissed she assumed I would. And I told her I’d write up what the additional responsibilities are, and we could go from there. But enough about me. This is your moment.”
“Hey. You’re important to me too. Make sure you tell her what the extra work needs. I’m serious, babe. You’re too fucking good to people. You need to stop when they are taking advantage of your kind nature.”
Matt’s phone continued to ping and vibrate.
“You should get that,” Iz said.
He reached for his phone. “I had all the notifications for all our social media platforms switched on because in fairness, we didn’t get too many. There’s no way I can respond to all this.”
Izabel laughed. “I think the first step might be to turn them off so you can actually think straight.”
“Fair point. There are a ton of emails here, too,” he said, scrolling through them as his hand stoked her hip. “Shit. Luke messaged. Alex called him too. He’s just on the tram from Oldham. What’s that, like fifty minutes until he’s home?”
Shit. Reality.
The fact they were a secret stung. She wanted to celebrate with him, but he’d likely be celebrating with the band, likely after a gig Luke wouldn’t want her to attend. There were huge chunks of Matt’s life she simply couldn’t be a part of.
Yet.
“Izabel?”
“Sorry, was miles away. I should probably go and leave you to this.”
She hurried off his knee and went to find her clothes. He’d only wanted her to come over because Luke was away. When she made it to the kitchen and found her T-shirt and leggings and slipped into them as Matt walked out of the bedroom wearing a pair of navy joggers hung way too low on his hips. “Sweetheart. Why are you suddenly tearing around the place like you can’t wait to get out of here?”
“No. I’m fine. It’s just, I’ve got stuff to do today. And Luke’s on his way home and if he gets home before me, he’ll only ask weird questions about where I’ve been. And you’ve obviously got a lot you need to deal with and—”
Matt’s lips pressed firmly against hers as his arms slid around her back, his hands sneaking beneath the hem of her T-shirt. “Ready to try again? Look at me this time. Why are you suddenly tearing around the place like you can’t wait to get out of here?”
Izabel forced herself to take a deep breath and look at him. As much as she hated confrontation, there were enough barriers to their relationship without her honestly being one of them. “Seeing this amazing thing happen to you made me realise I wouldn’t be able to celebrate with you. You’ll meet up with the band, you’ll go play whatever gig you’re playing tonight because you guys usually have a gig on a Friday night, and then you’ll celebrate afterward. And I won’t be there.”
The happiness on Matt’s face from looking at the streams and downloads dissipated. “Shit. You’re right. It’ll suck. What else?”
“It suddenly felt a bit seedy. Hiding away, rushing home in case my brother finds out. It suddenly felt like a quick fuck and see you later.”
“Iz,” Matt warned. “Don’t ever talk about us like that. You will never be a quick fuck to me. You don’t think I wish you could stay here all day? You don’t think I want to carry you back to my bed and finish what I was just about to start? You don’t think I don’t want to take you to breakfast or have you at the gig tonight or come home with you and cover you in champagne I could lick off you for hours? You don’t think I want to sit and eat breakfast and talk through what’s going on with you and Gemma some more? Fuck, Iz. Don’t diminish this.”
She pressed her forehead to his chest and could feel his muscles strain beneath his T-shirt. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Matt eased his hold on her to rub her back gently. “I want you, Iz. I want this. The timing sucks, but we are bigger than the timing. Yes, we have to steal moments right now. But this thing that happened last night with the band, if we can parlay this into success, everything changes. Right now, the band could implode any second because quite frankly we could make as much money picking up a nine to five job as we do right with [art-time jobs and gig work. No-one is going to walk away from an agent and manager and recording contract and arena venues. Not even your brother. Do you think you can hold on to us, like this, for the short-term?”
Izabel sighed and looked up at Matt. Sincerity radiated from him. “I’m sorry. I really want this, and I just allowed jitters to make me fall at the first hurdle.”
“And you deserve better than this. You deserve someone who can walk outside with you and show the world just how fucking proud he is to be your man. Because I am, Iz. Even if I can’t do that.”
“Does that make you my boyfriend?”
“Too fucking right, I’m your boyfriend. I’m your fucking everything, Iz. Just like you’re mine. Next time you get the jitters, talk to me about it instead of racing off and dealing with it on your own.”
“Okay. But I still should go. Work. Shower. Luke.”
Matt cupped her face tenderly. “Okay. Want me to walk you home?”
Izabel’s heart squeezed at the gesture him walking her down the stairs of their building. “I’m fine. Thank you for last night. Especially the fish finger sandwiches.”
“You’re too easily pleased, sweetheart. And thank you for last night. Especially the blow job.”
One day she’d ask him to prove to they weren’t a dirty secret, but for now she was happy to wait.
Matt kissed her, the kind of kiss that went down to her trainers and back. “I’ll miss you, today.”
“I’ll miss you too. Message me.”
Matt held the door open for her. “I most definitely will.”
As the door clicked shut, Izabel wondered whether it would be enough.
“Matt, love, can you put the hams on the table but don’t take the foil off them yet. If you do, Alex will be stealing slices as soon as he gets here.” Nan was on high alert, living her best life, catering a buffet for her family.
All of them.
Because apparently their overnight hit was worth celebrating and worth overriding the fact it was actually her birthday and voiding Matt’s plan to take her out for lunch.
He dragged a hand over his hungover face. His mouth still tasted as though something had died in there. “I’m on it,” he said, dodging his Auntie Pat, Ben and Alex’s mum, in the process.
As he took the plates from the kitchen to the table in the corner of her living room, Ben and Chaya walked in. Side-by-side as always. Perpetual best friends since Ben had rescued her as a child.
Shit.
He didn’t want to think about that today.
“Does you head feel as rough as his?” Chaya asked playfully as she nudged Ben who had still to take off his sunglasses.
“I don’t know. Does he feel like Uncle Allan just ran over it with his van, then reversed back over him?”
Chaya laughed, her long dark ponytail swishing as she did so. “I have a carrier bag in my handbag in case he puked on the walk over.”
Ben groaned. “Shut up about puking. It’s bad enough there’s a table with trifle on it in my line of sight.”
“I blame Jase,” Matt said. “Wasn’t it his idea to do shots at one in the morning?”
“Yeah. And I don’t see him showing up at Nan’s any earlier than he has to.”
“Is that my Ben?” Nan shouted as she hurried from the kitchen. “Come here, lad.” She pulled him into a hug, a strong whiff of something chemically floral followed her.
Matt bit back a laugh as Ben grimaced.
“Hey, Nan. Happy birthday.” Ben said, handing her the bottles of wine he’d brought for the party and a gift bag. “Thanks for doing all this.”
“Well, you boys deserve a celebration for this good bit of news. I’ve been praying for you all for years, so this good news is the best birthday present I could ever get. I’ve even pickled my own onions because I know how much you love them. Hope you’ve got an appetite because I made two bowls. One for you and one for everyone else.”
As Nan bustled back into the kitchen, Ben gagged. “Fuck me, the idea of pickled onions right now might have me reaching for that carrier bag after all, birthday or not.”
Alex and Jase arrived together seeing they shared a house a short walk away. Jase’s grey gills told Matt he felt as bad as he did.
“Nan, your favourite grandson is here,” Jase shouted, like always. He carried another bunch of carnations, but Matt had beat him to it by bringing Nan two bunches that were already in her favourite vase.
Matt tugged an envelope from his back pocket and shoved it into Jase’s hands. “From both of us. You were right about the trip,” he said quickly.
Jase took it and glanced suspiciously at Matt as Nan rushed out of the kitchen again to hug him.
“Trust me,” Matt mouthed.
“Happy birthday, Nan,” Jase said, handing the envelope and flowers over. “It’s from me and Matt.”
Nan grinned. “Bless you both for thinking of me. You shouldn’t be spending your money on me like this.”
“How the fuck do you look fresh as a daisy?” Matt said to Alex after Nan had opened her gift and squealed with excitement.
“Fast metabolism and can hold my liquor unlike you pussies.”
Matt shook his head. “I call bullshit. My guess is you pulled a fast one. Tossing the drinks over your shoulder or some shit.”
Alex grinned. “As if. You’ve never been able to hold your own against me.”
“Still the fucking runt.”
“Maybe. Although I wouldn’t call this—” Alex flexed his bicep “—small.”
“Put it away you fucking weirdo.”
“Hello, Uncle Nigel. Good to see your in fine form today,” Matt said sarcastically, eyeing Alex and Ben’s dad as he lumbered through the front door. A solid man who loved whiskey and control.
“Go make yourself useful and get me a drink,” he said, dropping into the large armchair.
Matt shook his head but did as Nigel said. Sure, he could ignore the guy, but then he’d just get all riled up and ruin the day for everyone, especially his Auntie Pat who he’d take it out on later.
Matt grabbed a glass out of Nan’s cupboard and reached for the whiskey she kept on the shelf next to the fridge. Purely medicinal, she used to say. But he knew she loved a sip at night.
“Wait,” Nan whispered quietly. She opened the pan cupboard, ferreted inside for a moment, then handed the bottle to Matt.
“What’s this?” Matt asked, turning the bottle.
“Alcohol free whiskey. Mix it three-quarters of this to a quarter of the real thing. He’s too stupid to realise and by the time he does, he’ll be home.”
Matt grinned. “Sneaky, Nan. I love it.”
“Well, it’s also a bit cheaper and I worked too hard for my pension for my son-in-law to drink it away every time he comes over. Put some Cilla or Tom on the record player would you love? We need some music.”
“What about some Elton? Freddie?”
Nan shook her head. “We’ll save Freddie for when your Uncle Allan is over later. And I’m not in the mood for Elton. That’s my cleaning day music and it will get me all confused and reaching for the Hoover.”
“Fine. I’ll put some Tom on.” He took Nigel his drink, smirking as the guy smacked his lips and declared it good shit.
He ran his fingers along the spines of his nan’s record collection, pulling out an album celebrating Tom’s early years. Just as Tom started to sing about things not being unusual, he heard Luke and Izabel’s name called out.
He’d not seen her since she’d tried to sprint out of his apartment two days ago. They’d texted, a poor substitute for the taste of her, the scent of her. But it didn’t come close to listening to her talk, the way she could spin everything in a way that made perfect sense. The way she could rebuild his floundering confidence in a sentence.
And, Lord, the pretty dress she was wearing with little ankle boots gave him ideas he couldn’t pull off in Nan’s packed small living room. He watched as she hugged Chaya, then his Auntie Pat. When her eyes found his, she smiled, and he was surprised just how much it made his heart squeeze.
After hugging Nan and handing her a gift bag and a container of what looked like pavlova, she stepped up the stairs and he watched her legs through the spindles as they disappeared out of sight.
“Matt, do me a favour and go get those black folding chairs from under my bed would you?” Nan said.
“On it,” he said, taking the stairs two at a time, just in time to reach the bathroom door as Izabel closed it. He pushed it open and stepped inside. In a single second, his hand gripped the back of neck. “Hey, Iz,” he mumbled against her lips.
“Jase,” she gasped. Her fingers dug into his biceps as she fell into the feel of them as much as he did. Everything about her was softness. The cushion of her lips, the fall of her hair, even the press of her chest against his. He kissed her cheek and then stepped back, knowing simply being there was a risk he shouldn’t be taking.
“I should go. But I wanted to say hello.”
“I like the way you did that.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now get out of here before someone finds us.”
“Are you sure I can’t talk you into two more minutes of fun?”
She placed her palm on his cheek and she opened the door behind them and shoved his chest. “Any more fun and we’ll be in a whole world of trouble.”
He stepped out into the hall, grinning as the door slammed shut. As he reached the bottom of his nan’s bed, footsteps thundered up the stairs. Luke turned onto the landing and hammered on the bathroom door.
“I’m not coming out no matter what you say.” Iz’s voice filtered through the door. It was playful. Happy.
Shit. She thought it was him.
Matt’s heart drummed in his chest. “Luke,” he shouted, louder than he really needed to. “Come give me a hand with these chairs.”
“I might be a drummer, but it’s not destroyed my hearing yet, mate. I need a piss. Leave a stack by the door and I’ll bring them on my way back down.”
Izabel opened the door with a frustrated huff. “Dude. Could you not give me two seconds in there?”
Luke placed his hands on her shoulders and switched their places. “Less time bitching and more time moving so I can get in there, Sis. I know how long you can be in there.”
“In a morning, when I shower,” Iz hissed through the door. “You arse.” She glanced over at Matt and winked. “I like to spend a long time in the shower.”
His thoughts flashed back to three days earlier when the two of them had sex in his. “Unfair,” he muttered, adjusting his dick.
Izabel ran her fingers along the handrail as gently and delicately as she’d played with his dick, then blew him a kiss before she headed back down the stairs.
After everybody had a plateful of food, Nan clinked her fork on the side of her glass tumbler of a Chardonnay she’d told everyone she picked up for four quid at Aldi.
Everyone paused and looked in her direction. “When I look at you lads, I see little football kits, and ironing grey school pants and white shirts on a Sunday. I see days when me and your Auntie Pat would wonder if you were ever going to make it through high school, let alone pass any exams. But you’ve made us proud. You’re working hard with all the music. And this woman on the phone dance thing gave you a big lift when she picked your song. And it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving bunch. Anyway, here’s to the band.”
“The band,” everyone replied.
His Auntie Pat put her hand over his shoulder. “You especially,” she said quietly. “I know this is all you and your hard work, keeping everyone going. I know it’s not easy. But I’m very grateful you didn’t do this on your own. I’d have been just as proud of you. But I’m glad you took your brother and cousins and friends with you, Matt. Says a lot about the kind of man you are. And my sister is as dumb as two rabbits because she was never able to see it.”
He turned to his aunt. “Do you ever hear from her?” he asked.
Pat shook her head. “Not directly. Someone gave me a social media address for her once. I checked it out about three years ago because I’m nosey. Seems to have moved on. New life. New fella. Don’t know if the kids in the picture are hers or his, but I’m guessing you’ve either got half-siblings or stepsiblings. You want the address? I can dig it out if you do?”
Matt shook his head. “Nah. This is family enough for me.”
He looked around the room at the band, at Iz, at Chaya. His nan and aunt, even his deadbeat uncle. It was enough.
As the party came to an end, and the guests left, Matt was left alone with his nan, returning the chairs up to the bedroom. He slid them under the bed, thinking about his mum. For a moment, he allowed himself to wonder whether she’d seen the news somehow. Perhaps she was on the app Willow Warner was on. Perhaps she’d seen one of the headlines about their sudden success.
Then he pushed her to the back of his mind.
Nan was in the kitchen loading the dishwasher.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to help with anything else?”
Nan stood. “No. You go on home. I’ve left a bag of leftovers for you next to the door with your name on it.”
He knew there had probably been one for everyone at some point. “Thanks, Nan.” He kissed her cool cheek and made for the door.
Nan reached for the tea towel to wipe her hands. “Matt?”
“Yeah?”
“I know it’s none of my business, but…you and Izabel. It’s…just…I noticed. Whether you meant me to or not.”
His gut hit the ground and bounced back up. “There’s nothing to notice. We’re just friends.”
Nan nodded thoughtfully. The pause felt like it lasted hours. “Whatever you say, Lad. Just…be careful. There’s a lot at stake, for all of you.”
And her words reverberated through him the whole way home.