Just Between Us Page 13

  She can’t be mine, she never could be, but just being near her makes me want to rip her clothes off, and just spending time with her makes me overflow with contentment. She still surprises me, and she still looks like every guy’s wet dream. The best thing about Sophie is that she has no idea just how much everyone wants to bone her, and she has no idea how hard every guy should have to work to be with her. I did say I wasn’t a romantic; well, I’m definitely not. I don’t do romance and flowers, but Sophie King would probably be the only girl that could force my hand on that one. Only problem is we can never go there again, so I’ll have to be satisfied with smelling her shampoo through friendly hugs and making her laugh as much as I can without ripping her clothes off. Ten years on from my shitty yet privileged childhood, and I’m still sure one thing could ultimately save me, Sophie fucking King.

  It had been two weeks since I’d seen her at her worst and two weeks since she lay in that bed like a victim. To see her now was like a breath of fresh air, she had always been the most resilient and strong person I had ever known. As kids we weren’t friends, and to me, she and her princess friends were the “perfect” untouchable crew. They were goody-goodies and over achievers, and I never did fall into that category. I never asked to be anything at school, never paid enough attention to fall into any category, but somehow I got to be popular with a few guys because not giving a shit seems to be admirable amongst dick heads. I had my fair share of girls at parties and chatted them up if I felt like I needed to, but mostly they came to me. I wanted for nothing as far as money was concerned, and girls loved that, but I didn’t really need to woo any of them, just having money seemed to be enough.

  My mum tried to love me, God bless her, but the only thing she ever saw in good old Mick in the end was his money, and so when that broke down she was on the lookout for Mick number two. I had a pretty free reign growing up, and both my parents were too busy with their own social lives to really pay an interest in me. I gained some kudos from my school friends for having an empty house most weekends, which came in handy for losing my virginity as it happens, at thirteen. When Mick met Mags he changed, and he expected me to start towing the line in front of his new family.

  However, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, I wouldn’t be the son he could just pick up and display to Mags as some trophy. Mags tried her best with me, but I didn’t want to be part of their family, and I certainly didn’t want to be anything like the robot Sophie King, the epitome of the perfect teenager. She slotted into the role of step-daughter all too well, and I resented the fact that I didn’t belong anywhere, and yet everyone else had found a home.

  When Mum moved to Spain, I assumed I was going and didn’t care. School wasn’t important to me and friends were replaceable, but that didn’t work out. She wanted to act like a teenager, not have one tag along with her. The only option was Dad and his new perfect family, which was far from my ideal, so I set about keeping my head down and getting out of there as soon as possible. It was probably when I first moved in that I started noticing her more. She was effortlessly good looking, make up or not, and first thing in the morning. She was polite and grateful to the parents, even when I could see that they grated on her. She was careful not to get in my way or anger me, which must have taken some effort, especially when I wanted a fight. She never got in my way in our bathroom or hogged the place, which for a girl must have taken some doing. She was fucking perfect, and I could never live up to that. I hated her for it, but I was entranced at the same time. I watched her at home, at school, and out with her friends if we were in the same clubs. I didn’t know what I was watching, but I think I wanted to see the halo slip. Then we went to Mexico and Jesus the sight of her in her bikini, it was all I could do to contain the hard on. Sophie rocked the bikinis.

  When I asked her to the club that first night it was a joke, or at least I told myself that, and I thought she wouldn’t come, and that’s when the surprises began. She came, she had balls, she had a retort for everything, and she looked awesome. So much so that every guy in the place wanted to jump her and chat her up. The kiss was inevitable, and I was actually surprised I waited that long, the thing I loved was how she didn’t care. She didn’t give a shit about me and wasn’t waiting for me to pounce. She didn’t hang off my every word, and we actually had fun. Something my life severely lacked.

  Everything about Sophie King still surprises me, and the fact that she came here this summer was one. The fact that she seems to need me to recover is another. I can’t have this girl, I never could, but if our parents hadn’t got married I would never have known what type of girl I wanted. One just like her. The problem is no other girl has ever come close, no one has ever wanted me for more than what I can give them, and in the business I’m in, that seems to be all anyone sees. Maybe she could stay forever, and we’d just live like this or maybe some day another guy will realise what she is and what she has to offer, and I won’t get another summer of her to myself.

  I’m not a romantic, I’m a realist, and it’s just my luck to be fucking in love with the only girl in the world that I can’t have.

  I had work to do during the week that I couldn’t get out of, and so most days Sophie had to amuse herself.

  “You want to come to work with me today?” I asked as she sat eating breakfast in her pyjamas. The thing about Sophie was that she managed to make everything look suggestive, or was that my perverted mind? Her hair was tied up on top of her head, and although her cotton pyjama bottoms didn’t show anything, I knew from experience that she never wore anything underneath them. It was all topped off with a tight, lace-edged white vest, and I could tell she was braless underneath. I had to suppress a groan.

  “Really?” She scrunched her face up, and the freckles that had sprung up from the recent sun danced over her face. “Won’t I get in the way?”

  “No.” I shook my head, “You must be sick of hanging around here. I’ve got a few meetings and you can chat with Geraldine, then I’m taking a client out for lunch. You can come and then tonight it’s that work thing that I told you about so you can go shopping in the city for a new dress … if you want?”

  “Shopping?” She gave me a wry look. “When you include lunch and the prospect of a new dress how can I say no?”

  “Great, go and get dressed, I need to leave in five.” I resisted the urge to slap her bum as she ran past me. I knew I could say five minutes to Sophie, as the things that other girls needed to look good, she just didn’t. She reappeared ten minutes later showered, wearing jeans, a shirt, and Converse. The woman rocked every outfit she wore, and I always wanted her next to me, wanted people to think she was mine, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.

  “So what’s tonight again?” she asked as we made our way down to my car.

  “Networking.” I smiled, “We’re going to a club opening and loads of my clients will be there as well as potential clients and industry bods, so just schmoozing really. No biggy.”

  “No biggy.” She raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Sounds pretty fancy to me.”

  “Nah, fancy isn’t trendy anymore.” I grinned to her. I loved teasing this girl. “So better get something that makes you look like a bag lady.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind,” she said, buckling up.

  Thirty minutes later we slid into my parking space. I had bought this space in Hackney five years ago; it was a lofty old building, and I’d turned it into my studio. It used to be some sort of printing space for an old publishing house that had closed down and so was spacious but not overly modernised, leaving room for me to mould the place. I always rented before that, working with and for other people and so this had been my big break. When I decided on university at eighteen, it was physiotherapy. It was assumed I would go to university, and I was good at science, and so I thought at least it would give me a job at the end. Not that I really wanted to work because I was too used to my Dad’s money. However, I had always been interested in music and qu
ickly got into DJ-ing when I hit Exeter University. It was a pretty small campus, and I got a name for myself, got some gigs and things went from there. In my second year I transferred to Music Production and continued DJ-ing and networking locally. Before I finished third year I had progressed to the big city, London town. I seemed to make friends pretty easily with the big hitters, and my face just fit. I got a studio job and worked my way up from there. I always had my eyes and ears open and took everything in. I learnt from the best and made sure I didn’t piss anyone off. Being everything to everyone seemed to be my forte, and suddenly I had found something to pay the bills and then some. I was pretty good at making people happy and had the ability to turn it off and on.

  The only problem with this industry is it’s pretty false and can be lonely because you never know if people want you for you or what you can help them achieve. I’ve had plenty of girlfriends, plenty of one-night stands, and the odd stalker, but none of them ever seemed to stick. It’s hard to make relationships work when they’re based on a version of you that even you don’t recognise. I had to become a certain person, and I didn’t really have my past to keep me grounded, this summer is doing more for me in that department than it could ever do for Sophie. I look at her and see who I used to be, and I see how I used to be happy with her. I’m not the lost boy with absent parents who made it big, I’m the guy that I’m pretty sure Sophie King used to love.

  “This is your work?” she asked, stepping out of the car. “It looks like a factory.” She looked at the red brick building and scanned the bare black wooden door that led inside.

  “Sure is, all the wizardry is hidden behind the boring facade.”

  “Right.” She nodded. “I hope you’ve got a kettle at least.”

  “We’ve got a coffee machine,” I said with mock hurt.

  I led her inside, and Geraldine appeared immediately. She was a mid 40’s vegan with straggly black hair that she always wore in a ponytail. She was constantly on the move and had little time for polite conversation. Her wardrobe consisted of mostly black, I had seen her wear red once, but she must have thought better of it as I never saw it again.

  “Kyle.” She sighed as I walked in, not acknowledging Sophie at all. “I have had Julia Jameson on the phone and also the manager of Club Loco about tonight; additionally, I have some paperwork for you to sign. Where have you been?”

  “Whoa!” I held my hands up to her, “Firstly it’s not even ten and you know I like to ease myself into the working day.” I smirked; she didn’t smile. “Secondly I need a coffee before I do anything, and thirdly this …” I motioned to Sophie, “Is Sophie my … um … an old friend.”

  Geraldine glanced at Sophie as if only just noticing her, “Ah,” she reached her hand out, balancing the paperwork in her hands. “Geraldine. Nice to meet you, I didn’t know Kyle had any friends old or new.” She laughed at her own joke; Sophie shook her hand.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Sophie said.

  Geraldine snapped her head back to me. “She better not distract you today, Kyle, you’ve got shit loads to do, and you’ve been slacking these last few weeks.” She eyed Sophie and gave me a knowing glare, as if she now saw why I had been slacking. Geraldine was a kick-ass assistant and made sure I met every deadline that ever reared its ugly head. She was also into women, which meant she could understand when I was “distracted.” “Sophie can sit with me; you need to concentrate. I’ll give her a tour.”

  “Fine.” I nodded, “That Okay, Soph? Just give me an hour and then after lunch Geraldine can take you to the shops.”

  “Shops?” Geraldine scoffed, “I don’t do shops.”

  “You want me to go to the shops?” I teased her.

  “No,” she snapped, “you need to get some work done or else neither one of us gets paid. I can shop.” She smiled at Sophie who looked a little concerned.

  “I am fine on my own,” Sophie said, “just drop me off.”

  “I can shop,” Geraldine said, suddenly looking offended, pushing more papers my way. “Now come on, Kyle, I’ll get the coffee, go and sit your arse down in the office.”

  “Yes boss,” I laughed.

  Old Times – Kyle

  I had pretty much fucked everything up. My life was like a bad joke where I was still searching for the punch line. I always managed to fuck up everything that gave me a hint of happiness; it was a curse. I started liking Sophie from afar mid way through third year seniors, we were thirteen and one day as we sat in Geography I saw her staring out of the window, looking like she wanted to escape. She was perfect looking with her blonde hair and smooth skin and answered every question any teacher asked without flinching. She was kinda quiet, and she filled out those school shirts enough for me to see she had a great body. She intrigued me, she held my attention, and yet she didn’t ever look at me like she wanted to be my friend or know me, she never even gave me the time of day.

  After our parents started dating and married, I noticed that she actually hated me, and that made me want her that little bit more. I was sick. I dug that she thought I was a prick, and I dug that she didn’t want anything from me … nothing at all. I saw how all the other boys at school watched her, but she had no idea, she was different from the girls I was used to, and I found myself strangely watching her just like all the other guys, except I lived with her most weekends.

  My mum buggered off and then we shared that bathroom permanently, and I found myself getting hard at the thought of her through that door. I thought it was because she was the only girl that I couldn’t have and that she was the only girl who actually hated my guts and who the award-winning smile didn’t work on. I hated my dad; let’s get that straight. I hated his answer to everything: money. I hated that I was an inconvenience to him, until Mags came along of course and he tried to prove otherwise. The family situation incensed me, and I refused to play the role of some pretty little son who smiled and nodded. I kicked against them all and that meant Sophie, no matter how hot she was. I told myself that I kissed her in Mexico to piss my dad off. I told myself that I was proving a point that I truly could have anyone. I wanted to be the spoilt, selfish prick that I always was, but with Sophie I couldn’t hide what I wanted, and that was her. I had for years and our parents getting married sort of ruined that … at first.

  That first night we had sex was awesome. She didn’t once pull away, and I kept wondering when she would put a stop to my demands. She never did, she was as hot for me as much as I was for her, and she was never once ashamed of it. I went too far when I made her feel used, I went too fucking far at the ball when I saw how pissed she was and then I sent her packing. I was enraged, I hated seeing that prick Tim all over her, and I hated seeing someone touch her when I couldn’t. I had fucked everything up.

  She woke up in my arms in the early hours of the morning. My head was pounding, and I bet hers was, too.

  “You need to go to your own room,” she whispered, pulling herself up with her good arm.

  “Soph?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

  She turned back to look at me but didn’t speak, her hair fell against her back in a mass of tangles, and she had never looked more vulnerable than right now.

  “Are we Okay?” I asked, sitting up.

  She nodded. “We’re fine.”

  “As in, we’re fine and nothing’s changed, we can …”

  “As in, no hard feelings,” she whispered, “that’s it, no more.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop it.” She stood up and went to get her dressing gown from her wardrobe. “You don’t have to keep saying you’re sorry, it was fun, and we fought … it had to end some time.”

  I stood and helped her into her dressing gown that she was struggling with. There was nothing more to say, I had been a dick, and I was paying for my actions. What more could I do or say? I couldn’t beg, it wasn’t me, and I just didn’t have the words. Of course she was right, we couldn’t keep this up forever in case anyone found out, and where the
fuck was it going? Girls always got attached and always wanted more, it was better this way.

  “Let’s not talk about this again, Okay?” She sighed. “To anyone.”

  I nodded.

  I left her room and walked through my bathroom to my bed. I threw myself in there, cocooned myself in my sheets, and tried my best not to think about Sophie. Tried to forget the best sex I’d ever had, her smell, her laugh, her smile and every other thing that made me look forward to coming home. This was some fucking shitty life.

  Thirteen – Just friends

  Sophie – Old Times

  The day after my drunken fall and ridiculous wrist breaking incident, Mum was making my breakfast whilst I sat at the breakfast bar.

  “You need your strength,” she babbled, whilst frying me an egg. “We’ll have to set off in an hour to go back to the hospital for a permanent plaster cast.”

  “I’ll take her,” Kyle said, sliding into the seat next to me and stealing some toast from my plate.

  “No you won’t.” I shook my head and glared at him, Mum had her back to us still frying the egg.

  “Do you want any breakfast, Kyle?” she asked, dismissing his comment.

  “Okay, thanks,” he said, nudging me. I looked to him, and he grinned. I shook my head and pushed him away.