Page 1 of Wish You Knew
1
Scott
Don’t think I can’t see your green eyes from here, Rosie Tatton.
It wasn’t the first occasion my gaze had strayed to my ex, chatting to her best friend over the other side of the bar.
Meeting fans after a gig still counted as one of my favourite things. I enjoyed meeting them, particularly those who had supported us since the start. And Ilovedmeeting our female followers too. Okay, yeah, it was mostly about the women. The dozen people crowded around me were all women, and I could see Rosie shooting daggers in my direction. Her reaction always intrigued me. We’d dated for a few weeks last year, until I’d fucked it up by shagging someone fromLove Islandat a party at her house. Understandably, she’d been pissed off, but it hadn’t stopped her and I from hooking up whenever we were in the same place at the same time ever since.
Like tonight.
I held her in my eye line for a moment longer, wondering whether the opportunity would present itself.
The intimate event for the release of my band’s latest single at The Matchbox in Manchester had gone without a hitch. Unlike the last time we’d been here, which had set off a chain of events surrounding Saff Barnes and her boyfriend, but that was another story. There were around a hundred or so Trash Gun and TheSB fans, plus the usual entourage which came with two bands putting on a gig, as well as friends and family.
Someone put another beer in my hand. I gratefully accepted it as a voice in my ear grated louder.
“Can we go yet, Scott? I’m bored and there’s a really good vibe down at Cinnamon.”
I swigged from the bottle, reluctantly turning my attention away from Rosie to the woman I didn’t remember agreeing to go anywhere with. “What’s Cinnamon?”
The brunette rolled her eyes. “And you say you know all the clubs around here.”
“All the rock clubs, for sure, babe.” I grinned. “I’m guessing Cinnamon doesn’t fall into that category.”
She huffed and finished off the last of her wine. “Can we get more drinks instead then?” She shoved the glass into my chest.
Grudgingly, I waved to the bar staff to get her a fresh drink. I think I’d spoken about five words to her since we’d arrived. Now, she was clingier than the bandage dress wrapped around her over-generous curves.
The angel in me told me I ought to take her to one side, let her down gently, and then she could piss off to Cinnamon and find some other unsuspecting bloke to pin her attentions on.
The devil in me caught sight of Rosie again, and suddenly the woman was pressed flush to my side, and we were on our way over to her and Saff.
What the fuck was I doing?
“All right, ladies? Having a good night?” I asked.
Rosie feigned disinterest. “We were until you came over.” She lifted her champagne glass to her lips and took a delicate sip.
My dick twitched at the memory of those lips and the talents they possessed. The devil in me nudged me right in the balls.
Saff elbowed the woman out of the way and threw her arms around me. “Honestly, Scott, thank you. There have been times in the last few weeks when I really should have punched you, but it all seems to have worked out for the best.”
My mouth stretched into a smile and we drew apart. “You probably should have.” I paused. “I am sorry about everything.”
Saff clutched her chest. “What? Scott Lincoln apologising for something?” She turned to Rosie. “Note the date and time, that’s going down in history.”
Rosie’s face remained impassive, but I could tell she was desperate to know the story between me and whatever-her-name-was.
“Yeah, yeah, funny.” I mocked. “Tris is a decent guy. You’re good together.”
“As if I’d ever be interested in you, right, Rosie?” Saff grinned.
Her cheeks pinked as Saff nudged her in the ribs. I raised my eyebrows.
“I can’t imagine what she’d see in you compared to Tris.” Rosie finally met my gaze, her gorgeous eyes - actually blue, not green - sparkling with mischief, rather than the jealousy I’d seen in them earlier. “Right now, I can’t think of a single thing you have going for you.” She ran a tongue over her lips.
Fuck.
