Love is Everything, page 7
I nodded. “Why not?”
He ran a hand through his hair and then focused on me. “You really want me to sing?”
“For me.”
He drew in a deep breath, frowned, and then smiled. “Okay, I’ll sing for you. One song.”
I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“I can’t believe I’ve let you persuade me to do this,” he grumbled. “You’d better be in full kissing mode tonight, Grace. I’m going to attack those lips constantly when we get back to mine.”
He stood, drank the entire contents of his bottle and strode towards the stage.
As he walked forward Tony saw him, left his glass collecting and charged over to him. They said a few words to each other, but there was a lot of arm waving and smiles from Tony who beamed with happiness.
Elliot reached the low stage and glanced back at me, smiling.
The crowd in the bar cheered as the man who had vocally murdered the last song bowed to the crowd and left the stage. Elliot casually grabbed a stool from the edge of the stage and jumped up onto the small raised platform, putting the stool into the middle of the area.
The crowd became quiet, low chatting voices as they took in this new arrival. Elliot didn’t seem to notice as he reached for a guitar propped up against the wall.
Tony began to clap, obviously more excited than anyone else in the audience, well, apart from me. Others joined in with his enthusiastic clapping as Elliot perched on the stool and positioned the microphones—one at the right height for the guitar and one for him to sing into.
“This is a special song for a special lady who’s with me this evening,” he said, and nodded towards me. After a few adjustments to the strings on the guitar he cleared his throat. “This is ‘Kiss from a Rose’ by Seal.”
My mouth became dry. This was my favourite song. How did he know? Was it just a co-incidence?
And did I fall for Elliot just a little more?
He played the introduction to the song on the guitar, putting his own spin on the melody I knew so well.
I stared at him, mesmerised, as the first words of the song were sung. It was like he was singing just to me. No one else in the room mattered. My cheeks flushed, my body heated, and I wanted to rush onto the stage and drag him away from here, take him somewhere quiet where we would be alone.
My glass of wine was hardly touched, but my head was light, my mood carefree. What was happening? Three weeks ago I’d arrived in Edinburgh, a quiet, careful, and studious young woman. A woman who’d taken a year out after her A-levels to work in a library of all places. And now she was here, wondering whether she was falling for someone who she should really stay away from. Elliot was charismatic, caring, attentive, the best kisser in the world, and the most attractive man I had ever seen. I also knew he would be the biggest distraction ever. But try as I might I couldn’t think of a single reason to stay away from him. He’d made me study last week—kept away from me, given me time to work, not distract me. He’d encouraged me to spend time with Kate. But when he’d turned up at the house this afternoon, all I’d wanted to do was have him wrap his arms around me and kiss me. And again, he’d insisted I finish my weekend assignment before we came out.
The bubble around me burst as the room erupted with cheering and applause. Elliot had finished. He pushed his way through the throng of people clapping him on the back as he passed, and eventually made it back to where I was sitting.
“That was amazing,” I said. “Totally amazing.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“How did you know that song is my all-time favourite?” I asked, still bemused that of all the songs he could have sung he picked that one.
“It’s on your favourites playlist on your iPod.”
I widened my eyes. “When did you see my playlist?”
“When you went to the toilet before we left your house. You’ve quite a mix on there. And you were humming the introduction when you were finishing your assignment off. I didn’t know it was your all-time favourite, but I gathered you liked it.”
I grinned. Somehow knowing he’d chosen to play that song based on what he thought I liked made his performance even more special. “Thank you,” I said.
“My pleasure,” he said, leaning towards me. “Now, drink up, Grace. I’m starving. Let’s go grab that Chinese.”
I lifted my hand so it rested on his arm and took advantage of his closeness. With a confidence I had no idea I had, I pressed my lips against his.
“Let’s go,” I said, grabbing my jacket.
We edged our way towards the exit, only stopping when Elliot’s name was called.
“Elliot!” It was Tony approaching us.
“We were just leaving,” Elliot said, placing his arm around my waist and pulling me against him.
“I know, I know. I just wanted to thank you for at long last getting up on that tiny stage and singing. You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to do just that.”
“I was persuaded,” he mumbled, shooting me a frown.
“But you were incredible,” Tony said throwing his arms in the air as he spoke. “A far better song than the rubbish you sing with your sheltered group.”
I hid a smile at Tony’s honesty, but Elliot laughed.
“You came to see me once, and you left after the first song.”
“It was too loud. You hurt my ears.”
Elliot shook his head, and Tony turned his attention to me. “And this is the lovely Grace, huh?”
“Yes, Grace meet Tony, Tony meet Grace.”
My hand was lifted in Tony’s and he kissed the back of it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again. I never thought he’d bring a girl to see me twice. He must be smitten.” He leaned forward and stage whispered, “And if he treats you wrong, then you come and tell me. I’ll whip his ass so much!”
I laughed, and Elliot pulled my hand away from Tony’s. “We were just leaving,” he said.
Tony nodded, and wiggled his moustache. “Remember, you come see me.”
“I will,” I replied, hoping my answer would settle him and he would step aside to let us leave.
Thankfully, he seemed satisfied by my response and wandered away from us.
“Come on,” Elliot said, grabbing my hand. “Let’s get out of here before he remembers something else he’s forgotten to say.”
We left the bar chuckling and then made our way to the Chinese. After selecting a couple of meals to share and various starters, we rushed back to Elliot’s, eager to taste the delicious smelling food. We eventually stopped in front of a large stone house so typical of the buildings in Edinburgh.
“You said you had a flat,” I said as we strode up the front steps.
“I do. The house is three self-contained flats. I’m on the top floor.”
“Great,” I mumbled as he unlocked the door. “Stairs.”
“I can carry you if you want?”
Elliot’s amused expression greeted me, but I shook my head.
After climbing three flights of stairs, I leaned on the wall and breathed heavily. He grinned nervously before unlocking a door and pushing it open. With a wave of his arm, he gestured for me to go first. I entered the flat slowly, unsure what to expect.
Chapter Nine
“It’s not much,” he offered, following me in and flicking the light switch.
The flat was open plan—a living room with a small kitchen area. There were two further doors to the right of the room, one I guessed, lead to a bathroom, the other the bedroom. The living room was a mix of colours; nothing matched, there was no order in the position of anything. The large sofa looked like it had just been dropped into the room and the fabric was ripped and torn in multiple places. A large burgundy chenille blanket was thrown over one end of the sofa, and cushions of various shapes and sizes were everywhere. There was an electric and an acoustic guitar propped up against the wall, with sheets of paper scattered on the floor around them. The two large windows that would have flooded the room with light during the day had slatted blinds covering them, now closed against the beckoning night sky.
“It’s lovely,” I said. “I really like it.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Let me take your jacket.” He reached towards me and I slipped my arms from my jacket and handed it to him. He hung it on the back of the door along with his own. “Please, take a seat. I want you to relax when you’re here.”
I smiled briefly before venturing around the sofa and sinking into it. The room was cosy, the mismatch of items and sparse decorations didn’t detract from its appeal. I could easily see myself living in a space like this, although I’d have pictures on the wall, and numerous shelves for all my books. As I continued to look around, Elliot wandered into the kitchen area of the room.
“Do want a bit of everything?” he shouted.
“Yes, but make sure you have more than me. I love Chinese food, but it fills me up really quickly.”
He clattered around the kitchen area for a few minutes and then wandered back to me, handing me a plate and a spoon.
“I’d love to live somewhere like this,” I said, mixing my rice with the sauce. “It’s much better than having a room in a house.”
“I’ll give you a guided tour if you want,” he said as he sat next to me. “After we’ve eaten.”
I nodded and ate a spoonful of the mixture on my plate. “Mmm . . .” I said. “This is amazing.”
“Told you,” he replied. “It’s the best Chinese in Edinburgh.”
I shovelled another spoonful into my mouth and continued eating. I looked around the room again. Something didn’t sit quiet right with me. I’d imagined his flat to be decorated in dark colours, luxurious, seductive prints on the walls, a leather sofa even. I’d misjudged him, and the thought settled uncomfortably in my mind. Where was the great seducer he said he’d been before he met me? Where was the luxury he used to persuade women to sleep with him?
But then I realised, it wasn’t needed—he could seduce anyone he wanted without any luxury. He was a handsome man with a devilish look about him.
We ate in relative silence and, as expected, I couldn’t finish mine. Elliot cleared the plates away and then offered me a drink. Fresh orange juice was my favourite after salty Chinese food and luckily, he had some in the fridge.
He sat next to me on the sofa, but it wasn’t long before the usual sleepiness that followed a good meal had me yawning and falling asleep. Elliot’s arm tightened around my shoulder as I cuddled up.
“You tired?” Elliot asked.
“Just a bit.”
“Well, you are as welcome in my bed, as I was in yours. Shall we get more comfortable? Or, I can walk you home if you’d prefer, but it seems a bit crazy. And I promise I’ll behave.”
I looked into his eyes and believed him. There was a tenderness in his gaze that made me believe what he was saying. He’d behaved when he stopped overnight at mine, and I had every belief he would do so tonight. But was that what I wanted?
“Grace?” His hand cupped the side of my face, and I closed my eyes momentarily.
“Of course I’ll stay,” I said.
His smiled convinced me I’d made the right decision, and when his lips met mine, I wondered why I’d even hesitated.
“C’mon, then” he said, rolling on the sofa and forcing me to stand less I fall.
He jumped to his feet and headed towards what I presumed was the bedroom. But as he crossed the room, he lifted his t-shirt over his head throwing it to the floor.
My eyes widened. He had a tattoo, a huge tattoo covering the whole of his back.
“Angel wings,” I murmured.
He froze for a few moments and then slowly turned.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Turn around again, I want to see it properly.” I stepped towards him, but he didn’t move. “When did you get it done? Did it hurt?”
He shook his head slowly.
My enthusiasm quickly faded. “Elliot?”
He moved around me and flopped onto the sofa. After running his hands through his hair, he patted the empty space on the sofa. “Do you want me to be honest with you?”
“Of course,” I said, sitting next to him.
“Even if it’s not pleasant?”
I knew getting a tattoo was meant to hurt, but what was he so worried about? But the strained look on Elliot’s face should have told me this was more. This was deeper than the hurt the tattoo had caused.
I nodded, bracing myself for whatever Elliot was going to tell me.
He drew in a deep breath.
“Fuck, I wish I’d not flushed the last of my cigs down the toilet now. I sure could do with one.”
“You smoked?”
“Yes, Grace, I smoked. I stopped the day I met you.” He sighed again. “I’ve told you before that my life before you wasn’t pleasant, not something I’m proud of. My past isn’t pretty.”
I shifted on the sofa, uneasy with his obvious distress. “I only asked about your tattoo.”
“And I should have realised you would. I’m sorry. It’s just . . . memories and all that.”
I reached for his hands. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I mean it. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here. I’ll listen. I won’t judge.”
He stared at our joined hands, not speaking for what seemed like minutes.
“If I tell you about my tattoo, then I’m sure the rest will follow. It all links together.”
I tightened my hold on his hands.
“Can you see the writing?” he asked, twisting his shoulder so I could see some of his back.
I released his hands and shifted backward on the sofa as he turned even more.
Seeing the tattoo this close enabled me to see how intricate the design was. I traced my fingers over the top feather of one of the wings before ending up where the writing was, written sideways down the centre of his back.
‘A brother forever in my heart, until my last breath.’
“You have a brother?”
“Had a brother. He died. London near enough killed me. I was lucky to get out alive. My brother didn’t.”
“What happened?” I asked as I gently pulled his head onto my shoulder.
He breathed deeply before speaking. “Drugs. We both took some. A new dealer. It was too pure, too strong.”
I nodded, struggling to find the right words.
Elliot sighed again and looked upward. “I’ve never forgiven myself. It should have been me who died, not him. He had everything to live for. I had nothing.”
“You can’t say that. You had everything to live for.”
“I just proved my parents right. I was a waste of space, a drain on society, I’d never make anything of my life.”
My heart sank even more. Elliot had so much to give. He was witty, intelligent, and kind. And, if I didn’t realise it before now, I did now. He was loved, maybe only a little at the moment, for I wasn’t about to announce my newfound realisation to the world, but I already loved him—quiet, reserved, and somewhat strange that I had such strong feelings for him already. But I knew.
“It all started when I went to London seeking a way out of my boring life in the leafy suburb in Hampshire. My parents had already made it quite clear that I was a disappointment. No education, no job, no future. I had no support, so I left. The relief on my mother’s face when I walked out their door was clear to see. She wanted me gone.
Things were okay, I rented a small room whilst working at a bar. But the money I earned from the bar work and doing an odd solo gig was only just enough to pay my rent. And the room wasn’t in the greatest part of London. More like prostitute city. I even slept with a baseball bat next to my bed.”
“Sounds horrendous. Did you ever think of going home?”
“Home? I didn’t have a home. And no, I never thought of returning to my parents. I couldn’t bear to see their further looks of contempt if I’d done that.”
I rubbed his shoulder and leaned back into the sofa. Elliot squeezed my hand and rested his head next to mine. “I had a good sex life though. I met girls through the bar I worked at and had plenty of admirers when I sang in the other clubs. But things began to go wrong when I got home one night and Claire, one of the prostitutes, was slumped on the doorstep of the building I lived in. She’d been beaten up by her pimp. She wasn’t a pretty sight. A bruised face, ribs and legs but thankfully, nothing broken, unless you included her spirit . . . That was crushed.
I called work, cancelled my shifts for the next week and tended to Claire. I made sure she was fed and looked after.”
He swallowed loudly and took another deep breath. “But, as I’d expected, she was hooked on drugs. She asked me to sort her out. See her dealer. Even when she was coughing so bad and crying with the pain from her bruised ribs, she begged me to get her next fix.”
I lifted my hand to my mouth and closed my eyes. Was this how he discovered drugs? Is this how he became hooked? By initially helping someone who was in trouble?
“So, I found him, easy really. I think all the girls dealt with him. But, you know, it wasn’t so bad to start with. She only took a little bit, snorted lines . . .” His words faded away.
I remained quiet, stroking his hand, letting him find his words.
“She was a real character, and as she recovered, I realised I had become really fond of her. We spent evenings chatting about putting the world to right, choosing our four guests to a dinner party and discussing what we’d ask them.” He chuckled, but it was an empty sound, not the playful chuckle I was used to hearing.
“It wasn’t long before we slept together. She taught me everything I could ever want to know about a woman’s body, so much more than I’d ever known before, about every sexual position and the pleasure derived from role playing. Then, one fateful night, she persuaded me to try heroin with her. Told me about the sexual high it gave people and wanted me to try it with her . . . experience the sexual high together. And we did, then it became a regular occurrence. Once every few nights . . . Once a night . . . Twice a day . . . I needed it as much as she did, and without even realising what was happening, I had spiralled out of control and had become an addict myself. My world fell apart.
