Matt looked around the BBC studio at Media City in Salford. A year ago, he’d have bitten off his own arm to be here, but now he had only one thing on his mind.
Leaving.
He and Izabel had a date planned. One that had been days in the making. Izabel had told Luke she was going to Nottingham to stay with a friend, instead she was meeting Matt at the Boulevard Hotel in Blackpool.
Thanks to signing with Simon five days earlier, and the financial audit Nikhedonia had arranged for the band, there was a little extra cash for each of them. Matt had paid for his car to be fixed and had booked the two of them a night away.
They’d barely seen each other in ten days thanks to the band’s schedule. Begrudgingly, Jase had signed the management contract, they’d gone for beers to celebrate. It had ended with Jase getting drunk, doing too much coke, and calling them all assholes, but Matt had a feeling it was more for show than anything else.
And Izabel had been run off her feet organising the charity concert. Trying to balance it with her day job had added another bag to her arm and hours to her day. But she’d stood up to Gemma and took charge of the concert. Confidence looked good on her.
There had been stolen moments. As many as they could find. An accidental meeting in the apartment entrance, an hour stolen when she’d gotten home from work early and Luke had been out, long video calls in whispered voices at night to ease the physical ache they felt for each.
Simon had gotten to work straight away. Lining up appearances like this one and booking four major gigs all in January.
“Matt, how has it been handling this overnight success?” the presenter asked, shaking him from his thoughts.
“I don’t think we see it that way. We’ve been working hard for over a decade. So, none of this feels overnight to us. It feels like the pay off after a long period of hard work we’re really grateful for.”
The presenter nodded. “And Jase, it must be nice getting this success with your family. You and Matt are brothers, Ben and Alex are also your cousins, and Luke went to high school with Matt and Ben.”
Jase smirked. “They say you can’t pick your family, but you can pick your friends. Should have remembered that when I was deciding on bandmates.” He laughed, but Matt was rankled by the answer. “Sometimes it’s like oil and water. But family have to put up with each other, don’t they? Even if they’re as much fun as cold mashed potatoes.”
Ben rolled his eyes.
“Luke, what’s next for the Sad Fridays?”
“World domination, and perhaps a pint or two along the way.”
The segment wrapped up, the red lights on the top of the cameras turned off, and the band were ushered off the stools they’d been sat on at breath-taking speed. Matt didn’t wait for help taking off his microphone. He disconnected the cable, threaded it back through his shirt, and handed it to the technician.
“Where are you fucking off to so quick?” Jase asked.
“Meeting a friend in Wigan. Few beers. Some pool. Crashing at his place.” The lie tripped off his tongue too easily. An unease crept in as he said the words. He swallowed away the need to be truthful. He owed Jase fuck all.
It was ninety minutes later when he knocked on the door of their hotel room, anticipation flooding him as he heard Izabel’s footsteps and then the sound of the door being unlocked. Her hair was down, as he loved it. And the light pink sweater she wore slipped off one shoulder revealing a hint of lace.
“So fucking pretty,” he said, cupping her face. “Hey, Iz.”
She smiled the smile he realised she saved for him. “Hey, Matt.”
Fuck.
He was dumbstruck.
Was that…nerves? A skip of his heartbeat, tingling in his fingers like pins and needles.
“Are you going to come inside?”
“Shit. Yeah… sorry.”
“Have you ever seen anything as beautiful?” she asked, waving her arm in the direction of the coastal suite he’d booked, but he was still looking at her.
“Nope. Nothing comes close.”
“Right? I mean, the hotel in Windermere was nice, but this is so lovely, and the bath is huge and there’s a walk-in shower which is just—”
His lips met hers, and while the whole drive up he’d been hard with the thought of stripping her naked and taking her seventeen ways to Sunday, now he was here, he just wanted to kiss her softly, touch her, go for a walk outside and hold hands.
“Want to go grab some lunch?” he asked.
“I would love to.”
Ten minutes later, disguised with a baseball cap and sunglasses, they walked the South Shore, past the Pleasure Beach where the periodic roar of a rollercoaster and the squeals of its occupants interrupted the shush of waves. Ahead of them, the South Pier jutted out into the sea.
“Amazing to think it’s over a hundred years old,” Izabel said.
“Yeah. Want to go play in the arcades with me later?”
“Yes,” she said, turning to face him as she walked. “I’m a sucker for those zombie shooting games.”
“What do you want for lunch?”
“Can we go whole hog Blackpool and get fish and chips?”
Matt laughed. “Babe. I was going to take you out for lunch. Somewhere you could have a glass of wine and not get sand on your dress.”
“What can I say? I’m a cheap date. We can go somewhere nice for dinner. But it’s unusual for it to be this mild in October, and it’s not even raining. Plus, every time I see you, it’s always inside. It’s nice to be outside with you.”
Matt slung her arm around her shoulders as they crossed from the South Promenade, across the tram tracks, to the opposite side of the street where the small gift stores and cafes were. “I’m sorry, Iz. You want to me to talk to Luke.”
Izabel shook her head. “No. Well, yes, Sort of. But no.”
Matt shook his head. “Well, that was really clear of you.”
Izabel batted playfully at his stomach with the back of her hand. “You know what I mean. I’d love for this to all be out in the open. But telling him now would just mess everything up. He grilled me after the whole love bite incident, which, thank you for that.”
“I’m sorry. Well, not really. Fucking you is spectacular. I get carried away, especially when you’re begging me to touch you.”
Izabel blushed and looked around to make sure nobody else heard. “Stop it. I’m serious. Luke has asked me who did it. But, we’ve got an end date of the fundraiser, and I can live with it.”
Matt kissed the top of her head. “Good enough. We’ll eat outside.” The smell of salted chips with way too much vinegar made his mouth water.
Five minutes later, they sat perched on a bench overlooking the Irish Sea. Izabel was tucking into a large, battered fishcake, chips, and gravy. He’d got pretty much the same, only a fish instead of a fishcake.
“I can’t believe how much vinegar you put on your gravy,” she said as she tucked into her food.
“It’s Nan’s fault. Always putting vinegar in the top of her steak and kidney puddings when we were kids. Can’t eat it without now.”
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
Matt looked at her, the wind blowing her hair around her face so much she had to hold it back to take a bite. “You’ve sucked my dick, Izabel. Figure that means you can ask me anything you want.”
She rolled her eyes as she finished chewing. “Do you ever think about trying to find your mum?”
“Nah.”
There was a long pause. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
Matt sighed. “You aren’t prying. It’s just a really easy answer. Mum was a single mum who did her highly incapable best. Don’t know who my dad even is, and Jase’s dad was an asshole who bailed after he got out of prison. But Nan’s never let us down. Not once. When mum smashed the car with us in it, she was three times the legal blood alcohol level, and that was the last straw for Nan. Nan showed up at the hospital and took us home with her. No one stopped her. I doubt she thought she’d end up raising a second generation of kids, but she did it anyway.”
“I wish I had a nan like yours. Mum’s in Brighton, loving life. She checks in occasionally. Mum’s parents have little time for her, even less for us. And I miss Dad something fierce. All I’ve got is Luke. He’s never let me down, and I’ve never let him down. Well, I mean, aside from the whole Jase thing. We’re all we’ve got. Anyway, sorry. I didn’t mean to make this a maudlin conversation.”
Matt took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Don’t be sorry. I like this. I like being able to talk to you about stuff like this. I want us to talk and shit. I want to know what’s on your mind, what’s bothering you. We’re more than just great sex. This. Us. What we’re building. I love it. All of it.”
Izabel smiled. The breeze had made her cheeks all rosy. She leaned toward him and brushed her lips against his. “I love it too.”
Matt grinned and they ate the rest of their food watching the tide make its way back out to sea. Little kids chased it on its retreat. A seagull flew overhead as the sound of arcade games trilled in the distance.
Eventually, he stood and took the Styrofoam tray and wrapper from her, stacking it in his own, and offered her his hand. “I seem to remember promising you a whirl in the arcade.”
Izabel took his hand and swept sand from her clothes. “I think you did.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon shooting zombies, Izabel not noticing how badly she sucked at them. And Matt spent fifteen quid so he could win her a stuffed panda which probably cost a few pounds to buy.
And when he lay in bed later that evening, waiting for Iz to finish in the bathroom so he could show her just how much he craved her, he realised it had been absolutely perfect.
Two weeks later, leaves rustled around in the entrance to shelter, whipped up by the howling wind outside. Through the glass doors, Izabel could see Russel and Lin, two of their infrequent guests at the shelter, having a smoke on the other side of the street.
The door burst open, and Jon hustled in out of the cold. “Jesus. Colder than a brass jockstrap out there. Oh, sorry. Hey, Izabel. Guess what?”
Izabel grinned at Jon’s turn of phrase.
“I got it.” His exclamation was followed by a flurry of coughs, and Izabel wondered if she could recruit a volunteer doctor to visit the shelter.
“You got what?”
“A flat. I got the flat we bid on.”
For a second, it felt as though all the blood left her body. Everything when numb then filled up again with a whoosh. Izabel flung herself at Jon and hugged him. “Oh my god, Jon. Perfect timing. The weather is really starting to turn, and that cough of yours isn’t getting any better.”
He patted her back with his empty hand, the other still holding his bag of belongings. “I get the keys tomorrow,” he said gruffly. When he stepped back, Izabel could see his eyes were watery. From coughing or tears she couldn’t tell.
“This is so exciting.” She gripped his arms, feeling how threadbare his coat was, and thanked the social housing gods he’d landed a place before winter had arrived. The previous year, a young man had frozen to death, bundled under damp sleeping bags, outside the Tesco’s in Piccadilly Gardens and no-one had noticed he was dead for two days.
“They told me there’s barely a stitch in it though.”
Izabel thought to the donations in the back. “Well, if you like, I’ll go with you to see it. We can take a look at what you need and then we can—”
“Thanks, Izabel. But you’ve done enough already. I can’t thank you; I’ve got no way to repay you. But I’ll make it right. Pay it forward or something.”
Izabel felt the sting of tears but bit her lips together and sighed. “You’ve got this, Jon. But we’re here, even if you just need a cup of tea and some company, right?”
Jon nodded. “I know.”
He shuffled past her to the common room. Izabel sighed as he walked by as indescribable relief flooded her. She hadn’t realised just how worried she was about Jon. And she’d done something useful.
“Ma belle, Izabel.” There was only one person she knew with an Irish lilt.
“Joe, hey.” That explained why Russel and Lin were hanging around outside. They didn’t want accommodation, they needed a haircut.
He grinned at her as Dominic and Jermaine walked by to get set up. “Heard you were kicking arse and taking names on this concert of yours.”
“To be honest, it’s a bit like a snowball running downhill. It’s gathered a lot of momentum. I’m completely out of my depth at this point, but somehow remarkably keeping it together.”
“Well, Ibrahim is pretty ecstatic.”
“Yeah. That’s why I want it to be successful.”
Joe placed his hand on her shoulder. “Can I just get a quiet word with you? Outside, maybe?”
“Sure.” A band around Izabel’s chest tightened, but she grabbed her jacket and followed him outside.
“Last month when I was here, when I left, seemed as though you and that guy from your brother’s band were having ructions. Was everything okay? I felt like an eejit afterwards, thinking I should have stayed.”
Matt. When he’d gotten mad because he was jealous. “I’ve known Matt a really long time. We’re…friends.” The word stuck in her throat, and here she was, wishing she could tell Joe who Matt was to her.
Joe tilted his head. “You’re a dote, darling. Anybody could see the look in that man’s eyes was more than friendly.”
Izabel crossed her arms in front of her chest. “We’re friends.”
Joe took a step closer. “Definitely just friends?”
“Yes.”
Joe grinned. “So, you won’t be offended if I ask you if you have a date for the night of the concert then?”
Thinking on her feet, she scrambled for an excuse. “The night of the concert, I’m going to be rushed off my feet behind the scenes making sure everything runs on time.”
“Well, the concert is still a month away. If you have time between now and then, would you perhaps have dinner with me?”
Izabel sighed. “It’s a really thoughtful offer, but I’d prefer if we just stay friends.”
Joe raised an eyebrow. “But not the same kind of friends as you and Matt, right?”
She shook her head mutely.
“Understood. But if that changes, call me, Izabel. You can always reach me at the shop.”
Izabel let out a breath as soon as the door to the shelter closed behind him. She reached into her back pocket and grabbed her phone.
“Gem, are you free?”
An hour later, they sat in a nook across from the bar at the Midland Hotel. Rumour had it Mr. Rolls had met Mr. Royce in the same spot, but Izabel had more important things on her mind. She took a sip of the bottle of Prosecco Gemma had insisted on buying.
“I know there is work stuff between us right now, but I really need my friend back,” Izabel said. “If that means me leaving to go do something else, so be it. But I miss our friendship more than I need the job.”
“Oh, Izabel. I’m so sorry I’ve been taking advantage of you. I didn’t even realise I’d been doing it until I read your document. I thought of this as our baby, but I realise it’s mine and I need to step up. I’m sorry. I’ve got some thoughts. Ones I hope you’ll agree with. We can talk about it tomorrow at work. But now, let me be your friend.”
“I’m in love with Matt.”
Gemma looked at her, slightly shocked. “I’m not sure why you think this is news. You’ve been in love with him since you were in your teens.”
Izabel took a sip of Prosecco, then another. “Yeah, but this is…shit. I’ve been seeing him.”
Gemma’s eyes went wide. “What? Since the wedding?”
“Yes. Well. No. At first, he was all stoic about the weekend and it only being a one-night thing. Well, two nights. Then two weeks later, he helped me with a delivery that got dumped on the driveway, and the next thing I know he’s dry humping me against the wall and my tongue needs surgical removal from his mouth.”
Gemma didn’t say a word, she simply chugged half of her glass. “I’m glad I got a bottle.”
“Glad you find it funny.”
Gemma laughed. “It’s not funny. It’s hot. You shouldn’t have fucked Jase. Chalk that up to one too many drinks and a major lapse in judgement. And as for Harry… Look, I know he’s my brother-in-law, but he’s a box of wet cereal who fancies himself as a player. You picked him because he was safe, because it meant we could all go on dates together, not because you truly loved him.”
Izabel glared at her friend. “That’s not fair. I did love him.”
Gemma placed a hand on Izabel’s knee. “You loved the idea of him. You loved the idea of moving on with life. Of finding someone, of falling in love and moving in together. Of having friends over for dinner and decorating a home of your own. And you needed security, because Lord knows there has never been enough of it in your life. But none of that is real, deep down in your bones, love…and you know it.”
Her words hit hard.
Was that what she’d needed? Had she spent too much of her time looking for security? With Harry, she’d had a home and boyfriend and enough money, but…
“You’re right. I’m happier living in Luke’s spare room and seeing Matt when I can, when Luke isn’t around.”
Gemma paused with her glass halfway to her mouth. “Luke doesn’t know?”
Izabel shook her head. “Matt’s convinced he’ll lose his shit like he did with Jase. He wants to wait until the concert is over and then tell them.”
“So, the two of you have been sneaking around for two months?”
“Do you have to make it sound so shady?”
Gemma raised an eyebrow. “Listen. I’m the last person to judge anyone. You’ll remember I had two boyfriends in parallel for most of my late teens. But at least be honest with yourself as to how other people will see it.”
Izabel tipped the last of her glass of Prosecco toward Gemma, who kindly poured her another glass. “You don’t think Luke will take it well?” she asked.
“No. Not to begin with. He’ll overreact and be all dramatic about it. But, I think he’ll come around eventually. He and Matt have been friends forever. I’d be more worried about Jase given it was Matt’s name you called out, even if it’s not really about you anymore. Brothers tend to be territorial about shit like that.”
“Urgh. This all sucks.” Izabel flopped back in her chair and nursed her second glass. Without food in her stomach, the first glass was already making it’s feeling known in her feet.
“Speaking of sucking…Matt? Bed? I’m assuming he’s as good as he looks.”
Izabel burst out laughing. “Jesus, Gemma. Say what you mean why don’t you?”
“Oh, come on. I’m a married woman and living vicariously through my single girlfriends’ love lives.”
“One, you’ve been married two months and are still in the honeymoon period. And two, I know you think nobody noticed, but I totally saw you and Ollie lock yourself in the family toilet on your wedding day and were in there for a solid fifteen minutes. So don’t give me shit about your dwindling love life.”
Gemma grinned. “Ten minutes was him trying to battle through the layers of my dress. The last five was a panic fuck while thinking someone would come knocking. The risk of getting caught spurred us both on. But we were talking about you and Matt. Is he delish?”
“He’s extra delish with whipped cream and cherries on top.”
“I’m guessing with his guitar skills, his fingers are nice and nimble.”
“He certainly knows how to play me. I try not to think about how it’s because of all the practice he’s had.”
Gemma leaned forward. “Did you have to persuade him to be with you, Iz?”
“Yes. I had to tell him exactly what happened between Jase and me. And he didn’t want to break his promise to Luke. I feel like I corrupted him. If this goes tits up, it’s all my fault.”
Gemma shrugged. “Well, there you have it,” she said, as if her answer explained everything.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve got a good man, with principles, who’s wanted you for a long time, and who by all accounts is a sex-machine. Does it really matter who came before you?”
“That’s a really shitty turn of phrase.”
“Oh. God. Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean literally, obviously. Just…do you really care, as long as he’s yours now?”
Izabel slipped her fingers to her necklace and slid the bezel from left to right.
No. No, it didn’t matter at all.