"You're lying,"
"No, I'm not,"
"Yes, you fucking are!"
"Sod off then, I'm not here to justify myself to you,"
Pete laughed as he glanced between Swill and Allie who were in the midst of a beer fuelled argument at the head of the table; he'd been with Allie for almost a month now and he was still surprised at how close she was with the boys. Most girls just pretended to get on with their boyfriend's mates to get into their good books and then after a few weeks starting picking at things, but Allie was the opposite, in fact Pete was beginning to worry that the boys might know her better than he did.
"Dunham," Swill looked at him. "Sort your bird out, she's talking out her arse,"
"Am I fuck," Allie snorted and shoved him backward with one finger. "I bet you," she hiccupped. "I bet you any drink of your choice that I'm telling the truth,"
"Done," he nodded and shook her hand.
"Hold on," she frowned. "What if I win?"
"Well, what'd you want?" Swill asked her, raising an eyebrow. "Bearing in mind your boyfriend's only 2 feet away, so you're gonna have to keep it clean."
"If I must," she grinned. "If I win, you have to tell me your real name and buy me a beer,"
"Done," Swill folded his arms and backed away from her. "Come on then, let's have it,"
Allie placed her beer on the bar and winked at Terry who was leaning over to get a look at whatever the hell was taking place. Kicking off her shoes and leaving only her dainty looking feet complete with soft pink nail polish on show, Allie got onto her tip-toes and then raised one leg in the air so that all her body weight was being held up by her one big toe.
"Fuck me," Terry frowned. "How the fuck's she doing that?"
"What's she doing?" Dave leaned over Pete and looked at the blonde girl, eyes squeezed closed in a combination of pain and concentration.
"Something about being able to do the same thing as the chubby bird in Titanic," Pete slapped Dave's face playfully. "And don't go saying you haven't fucking seen it because we all know you have,"
"Kate Winslet didn't do it for 30 bloody seconds on one toe though, did she?" Allie demanded, opening her mouth and screaming silently as the pain shot up her leg.
"Five seconds left," Swill told her before reaching out and trying to knock her off balance.
"Piss off!" she shrieked, laughing at him and opening one eye to glare at him.
"Four…three…"
"Oh Christ it hurts!" she squealed, bouncing slightly and feeling her leg start to give way.
"Two…" Swill looked down at his watch and shook his head. "Shit," he mumbled, although there was a definite smile on his lips.
"Yeah!" Allie laughed, dropping back onto both feet and bending down briefly to inspect her toe. Pete raised an appreciative eyebrow at the view and then glared at a couple of blokes on the other side of the bar who were doing the same thing. Being Pete Dunham's girlfriend, Allie was treated like gold in the Abby but there was still the odd few blokes who either didn't know or who were stupid enough to think they had a shot anyway.
"I won," Allie smiled, standing back up and winking at Swill. "So come on, say your name, bitch,"
Terry burst out laughing and started pulling the pint that Swill had promised her; he had to admit that when he'd first met the girl aside from obviously been stunned by how gorgeous she was, he'd had his reservations as to what the hell she wanted with a bloke like Pete, but having gotten to know her, it was plain to see the girl had a heart of gold and it would take a man of steel not to fall in love with her. Casting a glimpse at Pete who was looking at her with a huge smile on his face, Terry snorted and concluded that the poor bastard was too far gone as it was.
"Simon," Swill mumbled, covering his eyes.
"What?" Allie laughed. There was no way a bloke like Swill had such a normal name.
"Simon Wilkins," he groaned. "Swillkins was my nickname at school and it eventually got shortened to Swill when I met these twats," he blindly pointed to the rest of the boys. "Now drink you're beer and piss off,"
"Aw," Allie laughed gently pinching his cheeks. "I think its cute,"
"Don't make me hurt you," Swill laughed, grabbing her hands and tugging her around so that she was in a headlock.
"As if you could," she told him; the alcohol was still swimming through her veins and making her feel giddy. "I'd wipe the floor with you, Simon,"
"Alright, Alyssa," he laughed when she groaned at the use of her full name. "Oi, Dunham, your lady reckons she could kick our arses, what'd you think?"
"Oi, oi," Dave called to Bovver who had just walked in on the other side of the bar. The younger man's eyes immediately went to the blonde girl who was playfully boxing with Swill and he rolled his eyes in disgust. Couldn't they have one night without her there?
"Alright boys?" he grinned, purposefully ignoring Allie and taking her empty seat next to Pete.
"Don't take it personally, eh love?" Swill told her, letting her go and handing her her beer.
"It's kinda hard not to when someone hates you," she raised her eyebrows and took a long sip of the cold liquid, letting it run down her throat and soothe the worry that was bubbling up in her stomach.
"He doesn't hate you," he shook his head. "He's just an unsociable twat, there's a difference," he looped his arm around her shoulders and grinned. "Besides, the rest of us love you, so what does it matter?"
"You love me?" she asked with a genuine smile that made Swill laugh. Jesus, birds were easy to please.
"'Course," he nodded. "We'd be proper fucking bored without you here to take our money and keep Dunham busy," kissing the top of her head, he steered her over to the table. "Come on, I'll even hold your hand if you want,"
"Who won then?" Dave looked up at them as they arrived at the table, Allie trying to look as comfortable as she could, but he knew how hard this had to be on her.
"The Sloane Ranger," Swill nodded to Allie. "By yet another fucking landslide, I'm serious, you, Harding are banned from all bar Olympic sports,"
"You can cheerlead if you want though," Ned told her with a wink; ignoring the look Pete gave him. "What? Every team needs a cheerleader,"
"Where'd you learn how to do that exactly?" Ike asked gesturing to her feet.
"Six years of ballet," she told him with a shy smile as she leant on Pete's shoulder, smiling when his hand came up to rest on the small of her back as she leant down to pull her shoes back on. "It was compulsory,"
"What kind of school has compulsory ballet?" he laughed at her.
"The poncy kind," she answered with a wink before standing up straight and casting a quick glance at Bovver. He still hadn't said hello to her yet and she didn't want to humiliate herself by saying it first and then having him blank her, but given Pete was right next to them, he didn't have a lot of choice, did he?
"Hey," she smiled, gently tapping his shoulder. "Almost missed you there,"
The young man looked up at her uninterestedly, not so much looking at her as he seemed to be looking through her.
"Alright?" he answered bluntly before pulling some change out of his pocket and standing up to go to the bar. "Anyone want a beer?"
"Nah, you're alright," Swill nodded to him.
Pete didn't answer at all, he was too busy looking at Allie desperately trying to paste a smile onto her face. What the fuck was Bovver's problem? Tugging on her hand, he pulled her a little bit closer and frowned when she restrained him from pulling her into his lap.
"I need to stand for a bit," she lied. "Otherwise my toe will go dead and drop off," she smiled valiantly. "And no one wants a girlfriend with nine toes, do they?"
Laughing despite himself, Pete winked at her and squeezed her hand one last time, letting her know that he was there. It didn't make him any less pissed at Bovver though.
As if answering her prayers, Allie's phone started ringing and looking down at the screen she smiled, seeing it was her Dad.
"I have to take this," she kissed Pete quickly on the cheek and slipped her other shoe on before making her way outside. It would give her time to calm her nerves as well as talk to her father who she hadn't seen for nearly three months now.
Perching on the window ledge outside, she sighed deeply, for some reason wanting to just cry but instead she pasted a smile on her face and flipped her phone open.
"Hey stranger," she smiled. "To what do I owe the honour?"
"Do you have to be such a twat?" Pete shook his head as Bovver sat down next to him, placing his pint on the table with one hand and fishing his cigarettes out of his worn jacket with the other.
"What?" he frowned, snatching Swill's lighter off the table.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Pete snapped. "How long do you plan on just blanking my girlfriend for?"
"I don't fucking blank her," Bovver rolled his eyes. "We haven't really got a lot in common, Pete. What the hell do I talk to her about? Shoes?"
"I think what you've got to ask yourself Bov is why everyone else can get on fine with her, but you seem to have trouble with it," he sighed. "The problems not with her mate, so I'd sort it out pretty sharpish. For me if nothing else,"
Bovver stared straight ahead, completely ignoring the man next to him until he heard him mutter 'fuck you then' under his breath and stand up quick enough to almost knock his stool over.
"You up for some pool, Dunham?" Ike asked turning away from the fruit machine which had just robbed him of his last pound coin.
"Yeah, go on then," he smiled tightly, glancing out the window quickly and seeing Allie just sat there staring at her phone. He frowned as she leant her head down, resting her forehead against the heel of her palm. "Rack 'em up, I'll be back in a sec," he told them before pushing through the doors and turning the corner to where his girlfriend was sat in the same position she had been a few seconds ago.
"Hey," he called out to her and her head immediately shot up; he only had a second to see the devastation on her face before she quickly replaced it with a smile but it was definitely there. Walking over to her, he stood in front of her and tilted her chin up so that she was looking at him. "Oi," he whispered softly. "What's wrong?"
"What?" Allie laughed dismissively. "With me? Nothing…well, my left foot now looks like a claw, but aside from that-…"
"Allie," Pete interrupted her, his voice firm enough to let her know that he wasn't buying any of it.
"That was my dad," she sighed holding up the phone. "He just called to say that he won't be coming home for Easter," she shrugged. "Or my birthday…or Christmas,"
"Shit," Pete winced, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, sweetheart,"
"It's fine," she told him, smiling at the endearment. He used them without even noticing it now which was pretty damn cute. "Its not like I'm used to seeing him anyway, he's all about saving the world these days,"
"That doesn't mean he doesn't love you," Pete assured her.
"Oh my God, I know," she nodded fiercely. "He'd walk through traffic if I asked him to," she laughed sadly and shook her head. "But why is it he'll walk in front of traffic but he won't get on a plane?"
"Doesn't help that Bovver was being a complete wanker, either does it?" Pete mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.
"He's not a wanker, Pete," Allie laughed. "He just…" she shrugged. "We're different, that's all."
"So are we," he frowned, gesturing in between them.
"Yeah but not like that," she argued and then smirked. "Besides, I don't care about your personality; I'm only using you for your body,"
Pete grinned and reached down, grabbing her hands and pulling her to her feet before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her as close as he could get.
"That's fine with me," he joked, leaning down and kissing her gently at first, then a little harder.
"Oi!"
They broke apart and stared at the window where Swill was pressed up against the glass, glaring at them accusingly.
"Get your arse in here now!" he pointed at Allie as he shouted through the glass.
"Me?" she laughed.
"Yes you!" he hiccupped. "It's been brought to my attention that there's still one round of bar Olympics left and I still have some dignity to maintain," he swore loudly as he spilt the majority of the beer he was holding down himself and then turned and shoved Dave who was stood behind him laughing hysterically.
"So come on," he grinned. "Put Dunham down, you don't know where he's been,"
"Alright," she laughed throwing her head back. "I'm coming, just give me a few minutes,"
Pete laughed when he heard Dave mutter something along the lines of 'that's what your mum said last night' to Swill who was too pissed to do anything but shove him again.
"Sorry about that lot," he whispered against her forehead.
"No, you know what I think I need it tonight," she smiled up at him, kissing him one last time before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the pub. "Ok, that's it, I need shots,"
"Haven't you got work in the morning?" Pete asked her with a grin.
"Yeah," she nodded. "But that still leaves me with a good few hours to kick your friend's arses." She leant against the door and smiled flirtatiously at him. "So come on, Dunham…are you in or are you out?"
Grabbing her around the waist and walking her backwards through the door, Pete laughed when she started giggling as her feet momentarily left the floor.
It was going to be an interesting night...
"So we're all agreed that we want Kiera for this month's cover, dressed in the new Vera Wang,"
Lara nodded her head along with everyone else and stared blankly at the now empty coffee cup in front of her. Monday morning meetings were never fun, but when you'd spent the best part of the morning dragging your best friend out of bed with the hangover from hell, they seemed even worse.
"Allie, what do you think?"
Jack Faulton was the only man in the world who had the ability to turn up to a Monday morning meeting dressed head to toe in Prada looking like he'd just had an 18-hour nap in a bath of milk and honey. But he'd always been that way since the first day Lara and Allie had met him at Freshmen orientation during their first week at University. Since then they had become the three musketeers of Vogue, climbing their way to the top one designer freebie at a time.
"Allie," Lara hissed elbowing the practically unconscious girl next to her hard enough to bring her back from the edge of slumber.
"Ow!" Allie moaned. "Fucking hell!"
"Miss Harding," Jack smiled, trying to put on his serious-upset editor face. "Any thoughts on that?"
"Kiera Knightly?" she raised an eyebrow and tried to ignore the urge to vomit when she spotted someone's half eaten bacon bagel on the table. "We only used her 7 months ago and if you don't mind me saying, Vera's new line is mostly corset stuff and as much as I love KK, we all know she has the chest of an 11 year old boy,"
Everyone around the table chuckled and even Lara had to admit she was impressed Allie had been able to pull that out of her arse on the spot…then again, she was more surprised that Allie was still alive at all.
"Ok, so who do you think we should get?" Jack prompted, leaning on the table.
"I think Jessica Beil," Allie rubbed her eyes. "She's hot, she has a new film coming out, she's shagging Justin Timberlake…everyone wants a piece of her right now,"
"Well, go get her tiger," Jack winked. "Talk to Caitlin down in PR and see if she can get us contacts," he sighed and looked at the sorry bunch around the table, finally relenting after an hour and a half. "Alright, piss off, all of you," he grinned. "And in future lets just agree to keep a stash of Alca Seltzer in the kitchen, ok?"
Everyone groaned in agreement and stumbled out of the room, still clutching their coffee cups like lifelines.
"Hey," Jack walked over and sat on the desk, nudging Allie's head where she'd laid it down on the table. "Amy Winehouse, get the hell up!"
"Huh?" she mumbled.
"What the hell happened to you last night?" he laughed, smoothing her hair back from her face. "I called about three times and you didn't pick up,"
"Three?" Lara raised an eyebrow.
"No more, no less," he shook his head. "You know how bad I am with my OCD,"
"You're talking really loudly," Allie groaned and then smiled when Jack continued soothingly stroking her hair.
"Come on," he poked her. "Out with it…where were you last night and what the hell happened to result in this?"
"I was at the Abby," she mumbled sleepily.
"Whose Abby?" he frowned.
"It's a pub," Lara told him, rolling her eyes at his look of utter horror.
"A pub?" he spat. "As in darts, pool, beer in dirty glasses, no cocktail list kind of place?"
"Yes Jack," she nodded slowly. "Believe it or not, pubs and bars do exist that don't the words 'Queen' 'Foam' or 'Pink' in them,"
"Oh fuck off," he winked at her, picking up his Starbucks mug and downing what remained of his latte. "But that still doesn't answer the question of what the hell was our little golden girl doing in such an establishment,"
"Pete," Allie mumbled simply, not having the energy to go into any greater detail.
"Pete?" Jack frowned and then grinned. "Ooooh, the mysterious boyfriend from the wrong side of the tracks," he winked at Lara. "Tell me, how are things with Park-Life?"
"Don't call him that," Allie reached out, blinding slapping his leg. "You haven't even met him yet,"
"And who's fault is that you miserable whore?" Jack pulled her head up and forced her to look at him. "Afraid of the competition?"
"You're unstable," she told him, still refusing to open her eyes for fear that light might hit them and her brain would explode as a result.
There was a faint knock at the door and one of the young, rather scared looking interns popped her head around the door, her eyes widening when she saw the three most senior people of the magazine gathered around one chair, looking at her with raised eyebrows.
"Sorry to interrupt," she stuttered. "Um, Miss Harding, there's a man called Pete here to see you,"
"Is he hot?" Jack asked her and the poor thing almost passed out on the spot.
"I wouldn't kick him out of bed," she responded with a wicked grin, then realised what she'd said and clapped her hand over her mouth.
Jack and Lara gasped and then looked at each other for a second before bolting to the door, leaving Allie in the dust, yelling something that sounded suspiciously like 'bastards' after them.
Turning into the hall, Jack spotted a man waiting outside Allie's door his athletic frame towering over the small plant next to him as he glanced at the various photos on the wall, his piercing blue eyes dancing over the people in front of him, running about the office with pieces of clothing and paper as though they were on fire.
"Sweet Britney," Jack whispered to Lara. "Is that him?"
"Oh yeah," she grinned, lifting her hand and waving when he looked over at them, obviously relieved to see a face he recognised. "Hey gorgeous," she smiled, walking over to him. "What brings you to this immensely camp neck of the woods?"
"I came to see how Allie's doing," he raised his eyebrows. "She was a little bit…"
"Shit faced?" Lara finished for him.
"Pretty much, yeah," he laughed. "How's she coping?"
"She's," Lara glanced over her shoulder and saw that her friend was still yet to immerge from the meeting room. "She's just fine,"
Pete looked at the shorter man next to Lara warily, he didn't need to ask to know what team the bloke was on; the pink shirt and grey waist coat spoke for themselves, but he wasn't sure he liked how the guy was eyeing him up like his next meal…
"Pete," Lara laughed. "Sorry, shit, I forgot, this is Jack, mine and Allie's friend from Uni, she's probably told you about him,"
"Yeah," Pete nodded reaching out and shaking the man's hand. "How's it going, mate?"
"I'm just…super," he grinned. "So, finally I get to meet the man who beat up Wanker Will,"
"What?" Pete frowned, looking at Lara.
"Pete didn't beat him up," she clarified.
"Oh, in my head you did," Jack nodded. "Someone had to, the man was a prick…we don't call him Wanker Will just for a laugh,"
Pete grinned, suddenly liking this guy a whole lot more.
"So Allie mentioned you're a teacher," Jack gushed and Lara had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. If he was a girl, he'd be twirling his hair around his finger and applying his lip gloss by now. Swill and the boys would have a field day with the poor bastard. "That's pretty-…"
"Well," Lara interrupted. "Look what the AA dragged in fresh from praying to the porcelain God,"
"You're a comedy genius," Allie mumbled, smiling at Pete who winced at her obviously fragile condition. "There's no point in looking guilty, Dunham," she laughed. "You did this to me,"
"Who's idea was the shot contest?" he asked her with a frown.
"Who's responsibility is it to know that when they're girlfriend starts singing Billy Joel it's time to throw in the sambuca flavoured towel?" she laughed, raising an eyebrow.
"At least you weren't alone," he shrugged with a grin. "You and Dave had quite an audience,"
"Oh shit, don't remind me," she shook her head, rubbing her temples when the sudden movement caused her brain to object.
"Right well, we'll leave you two alone," Lara smiled, pulling a rather reluctant looking Jack down the hallway to her office who stopped once to stare obviously at Pete's arse and mouth 'What a waste' to Allie who immediately burst out laughing.
Pete frowned at her, a confused expression marring his face and she waved her hand dismissively.
"Don't ask," she told him, giggling as he frowned and shook his head. "So, what are you doing round my neck of the woods, Dunham?" she asked teasingly, running a hand down his chest and standing on her tip toes to give him another quick kiss.
"I was on my way to go see Steve and thought I'd drop in and see you," he told her with a smile. "You know, as I'm just that considerate."
Raising an eyebrow, Allie laughed and shook her head as he gave her a huge cheesy grin.
"I'm sure," she told him, with a smile of her own. "Well, I'm on lunch at the moment, so I can come with you if you want? Maybe we can get some food on the way back before my stomach caves in on itself. I just have to grab some stuff out of my office first,"
Pete nodded and followed her down the hallway into the modern looking office which overlooked the Thames, handbags, photos, books and various items of clothing strewn about everywhere. Smiling lightly, he watched as she fumbled out with something on her desk before leaning back against the door and closing his eyes.
"What's on your mind?" she asked, cocking her head and frowning at the look of stress on his face.
Pete opened one of his eyes and smiled at her. She had a way of reading him; not many other people could do it, but she could sense when something was wrong, when he was in a bad mood, when he needed comfort and when he needed to be left alone.
"Nothing," he told her, grinning at her as he pushed himself away from the wall to stand in front of her, his arms going either side of her head. Leaning down, he kissed her deeply, his body pressing hers to the wall; unable to help herself, Allie dropped the magazines she was holding and wrapped her arms around him, biting her lip when his mouth moved down to her neck.
"How's the foot?" he mumbled against her shoulder.
"Not that bad," she frowned. "Which reminds me, how the hell did I actually get in last night?"
"I had to carry you," he laughed. "I was the perfect gentleman though,"
"Really?" Allie raised an eyebrow and giggled at the guilty look on his face.
"Alright, I might have taken a quick look," she laughed. "But in my defence, I'm only human,"
"So next time you pass out drunk, I can just," Allie shrugged and purposefully let her eyes drop that little bit lower. "Have a look around?"
"Feel free," Pete grinned, making his way back up to her lips. "Call it an early birthday present,"
"Speaking of," she smiled, pushing him away slightly and meeting his eyes. "Don't think I've forgotten,"
"I told you, it's not a big thing," he shrugged. "It never was in my family."
"Pete," she shook her head. "You're turning 23 which is something you only get to do once and I refuse to let you spend it pissing away a months wages in the Abby,"
"Alright," he smirked, pulling away and tucking her hair behind her ears. "You come up with an alternative and I'm all for it,"
"Those are famous last words, Dunham," she grinned just before his lips came crashing down to hers. She'd give him a party, and she knew exactly who she needed to help her….
Allie climbed the final set of stairs to the seventh floor of the apartment building and bit her lip at the seemingly never ending corridor of identical front doors.
Glancing down at the scrap of paper she was clutching, she nodded to herself, assessing that she needed to find flat 42A and if she managed to do it without being mugged, well then, that was just a plus.
Walking down the hall on her tip toes, almost afraid of making any noise, Allie finally came to the door she was looking for and took a deep breath; she was here no so there was no point in running away now she'd gotten this far. Lifting her hand, she knocked lightly on the old, battered wood which had been painted a rather harsh shade of blue and winced, hearing the cursing and banging coming from within the flat.
A second later, the door was yanked open and she met the young man's astounded gaze nervously, forcing a smile on her face but finding it almost impossible.
"What are you doing here?" Bovver asked her suspiciously, eyeing the bag she was holding and looking her up and down. In her hipster jeans, white tank top and gold sequinned shrug, her hair and make-up perfect as usual, the girl looked completely out of place against the mangy, damp background of his hallway.
"Jesus, Bovver what happened?" she gasped looking at the sore looking cut near his eye, surrounded by the blackened, swollen skin.
"I ran into someone's fist," he told her sarcastically, not liking the worry on her face. What the fuck did she need to be worried about? He wasn't about to give her another excuse to play the martyr and go running to Pete telling him what a good girl she'd been by patching up poor, defenceless Bovver after a fight.
"That was pretty stupid," Allie told him, her face completely deadpan and for a moment, he thought she might be being serious. Glancing up at her as though she was crazy, he caught the slight twinkle in her eye and actually bit the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling.
"You still haven't answered my question," he snapped gruffly, even more pissed off now that she'd made him laugh. "Why're you here?"
"Um," Allie blinked; she hadn't exactly expected Bovver to give her a hug or anything, but she certainly hadn't expected this out hostility, especially when it was obvious how hard she was trying. "Well, I came to talk to you, if that's ok?"
Bovver looked at her for a long moment, and Allie seriously doubted whether or not he was going to let her in; then he kicked it open wider and gestured for her to walk through.
"Thanks," she smiled at him, walking into the small flat and very nearly gasped in surprise at how nice it looked. The odd take out carton and empty can of beer were strewn about the living room, but other than that, it was a nice place.
"What's going on?" Bovver asked her, closing the door and turning to face the scared looking girl. He felt bad because it wasn't so much that he did hate her as he really, really wanted to. The girl was a risk to everything that they had worked so hard trying to build, and after five years the GSE was finally getting back on its feet, and there was no way in hell he was going to let some little princess with a trust fund fuck it up.
"Well," Allie smiled, placing her bag on the kitchen counter and leaning against it. "Next week is Pete's birthday and I thought it might be pretty cool to throw him a party," she shrugged. "And I thought who better to help me plan it than his best mate?"
Bovver raised an eyebrow at her and almost laughed; fucking hell, this bird just got better and better, didn't she?
"You do know that Pete's not fucking 12, don't you?" he snorted. "He doesn't want a surprise party."
"Oh," she nodded, trying not to look hurt. "I just thought that it might be nice if we…you know he told me he's never really had a proper birthday party so I thought that for a change…"
"Change?" Bovver laughed. "That word comes up an awful lot when you're about, have you noticed that?"
"I'm sorry?" Allie shook her head; what the hell was this guy's problem?
"You heard me," Bovver sneered. "Fucking hell, Allie, you're a nice bird and all, but you're still a bird at the end of the day."
"Jesus, do you want to patronise me any more?" she asked with a shrug.
"What? You think you're the first girlfriend Pete's ever had or something?" he laughed. "This is what happens; he lands himself a bird, shags her for a bit and then she starts wanting to plan birthday parties and go on holidays and play doctor every fucking day, and he's not about that. He never has been," Bovver looked her up and down. "Not that'd I'd expect someone like you to understand that,"
"Someone like me?" Allie repeated, frowning. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that unlike you princess, not all of us have been through life with a fucking silver spoon glued to their lips," he explained. "And so if you're looking for a new project, then Pete ain't the bloke for you. So just run along and find some other poor bastard with a wallet bigger than his brain."
"Wow," Allie shook her head, laughing. "Were you born this much of a wanker or is it something you've had to perfect over time? I mean seriously, who the fuck do you think you are, exactly talking to me like that? You don't even know me, Bov. And what the hell is it that you have against me anyway…I know you think that I'm all about bringing down your precious bloody firm, but I'm not! I don't care about it! All I care about is Pete and if you can't see that, then that's your problem not mine!"
Bovver stared straight back at her, expecting her to back away or at least break eye contact with him at any second, but she didn't, she just glared at him, her green eyes flashing with anger, apparently as reluctant as he was to be the first one to speak.
"Oh my God," Allie laughed bitterly and shook her head. "You know what? Just forget it ok, I'll do it myself,"
"Have you not listened to a fucking word I've said to you?" Bovver shouted at her as she made her way to the door.
"Yeah," Allie shot back at him, spinning around on her heel. "But all I heard was 'blah, blah, blah, jealous bullshit, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.'"
"You reckon I'm jealous?" he laughed. "Get over yourself,"
"Not jealous of Pete," she hissed. "You're jealous of me; because suddenly it's not just you and the GSE that Pete has to think about anymore,"
Bovver looked at her in disgust and walked away, slamming his way into the kitchen and leaning against the counter.
Allie watched him for a long moment and bit her lip; she hadn't meant to say that, it was uncalled for. But Bovver didn't seem like the type of guy who particularly appreciated apologies.
"Bovver," she sighed, leaning back against his front door. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." He didn't turn around but she kept talking. "I know how much Pete loves you and the boys…he's told me on more than one occasion that you're like brothers to him and I respect that so much. But you have to realise that I'm not here to try and get in the way or destroy anything or take anything away from you." Allie shook her head. "Pete's my boyfriend and I love him, and I just thought that it would be nice for our sake, not just his, if me and you could get along,"
Bovver closed his eyes and shook his head. He knew what she was trying to do, but it wasn't going to work, the other boys might have fallen for her bullshit, but he wasn't going to fall in line.
"You know something?" he hissed at her, frowning when he felt his eye start to sting. "You're such a fucking-…"
"Bov, your eye," she pointed at him, her face slightly pale as she watched the blood trickle down his face.
Reaching up, Bovver winced when he realised that the rather deep cut must have reopened at some point; last night after the match he'd been too tired to bother with disinfectant but he was starting to realise that it may have been a good idea.
"It's just blood," he told her. "Nothing to have a fucking hissy fit about,"
"I can help if you want…" she offered, trailing off when he openly laughed at her.
"I didn't realise I had retard written on my forehead," he snapped. "I think I'm capable of applying a plaster."
"What is your problem?" she burst out, throwing her arms in the air. "What the hell have I ever done to you? I've tried talking to you, I've tried leaving you alone, but whatever I do, you somehow find a way of making me out to be in the wrong, so tell me Bov, what is it I'm supposed to do?"
"How about go home?" he shrugged.
"No,"
"No?"
"No."
"No?"
"Christ, I though you said you didn't have retard written on your forehead,"she exclaimed. "I said no! So sit down and shut up before your brain bleeds out through your eye," she reached for the bottle of TCP on the kitchen counter and grabbed some tissues out of he purse. "Look, if it makes you feel better, you can list all of the reasons you hate me while I do it,"
Bovver rolled his eyes at her, not even dignifying her with an answer as she began lightly dabbing the small cut, wiping away the excess blood and wincing at how deep it was.
"You're a journo," he mumbled, frowning when Allie laughed.
"Christ, I was kidding about the list," she shook her head. "How's that a reason Bov? I work for Vogue, and unless my editor has some major changes in mind, I don't think we're planning on running a hooligan segment alongside our next Ralph Lauren campaign,"
"All journo's are the same," he snapped. "You're telling me you ain't got mates at the Times or the Guardian?"
"'Course I have," she shrugged. "I went to journalism school with most of them, but that doesn't mean I'm going to fill them in on what I know about the GSE," she snorted. "I don't even know what the GSE is,"
"It's all a big fucking joke you, ain't it?" he shouted, smacking her hand away a little harder than he needed to and glaring at her.
"No," she cried defensively. "It's not a joke, and you know why? Because of this," she held up the bloodied bit of tissue she'd been using to clean him up. "I've had to do this with Pete, you know? And funnily enough, pulling shards of glass out of your boyfriends skin doesn't really make it into the precious memories photo album. I know that this is serious, Bovver and if you want the truth, no I wish Pete wasn't involved in it, I wish that I didn't have to worry about what state he's going to be in every time I go to see him. I wish that I didn't have a mild heart attack every time I know there's a football match on," she laughed. "Christ, I'm a girl…the nearest I ever got to understanding football before I met you lot was when I accidentally bumped into David Beckham and touched his arse at a Gala last year."
"Poor little rich girl," Bovver snapped. "Sorry we had to wake you up and let you see what the real world is actually about,"
"Stop doing that!" she practically screamed at him. "Stop twisting everything I say into me thinking I'm too good for Pete! I've never thought that and I never bloody will, so just," she sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Just give me a shot, will you?" Allie stared at him for a long moment and felt her heart sink. This was pointless; she could probably pull the guy from a burning building and he'd still find some reason to hate her. "Come on, Bovver, I'm really trying here."
A long moment of silence passed and Allie sighed, knowing that both the battle and the war had been lost the moment Pete had announced he was dating her. Throwing the bloodied tissue back onto the counter, she wiped her hands on her jeans and sighed.
"Ok," she shrugged. "Thanks for your time," she honestly felt like crying. What was it that she had done to upset Bovver so much? "I hope the eye gets better soon and…I guess I'll see you down the Abby or whatever."
"He gets too involved,"
Bovver's voice stopped her just as she laid her hand on the door knob, ready to run down the hallway and out to her car, more than willing to forget that she had ever been here.
"Sorry?" she frowned, turning back around and blinking in surprise when she met Bovver's determined gaze.
"Pete's always been too easy when it comes to trusting people," he shrugged. "But you," he snorted and shook his head. "He never stood a chance with you. See when it comes to birds, the GSE has a pretty tight policy. As in shag 'em but don't tell them shit,"
"Nice," Allie wrinkled her nose.
"Trust me sweetheart, you have fallen way out of that fucking category," Bovver sniffed and ran a hand through his hair. "How long have you been with him?"
"Two months," Allie replied instantly, not even needing to think.
"Right well in those two months, whether he knows it or not, whether you know it or not, you've changed him,"
"No, I haven't!" she protested. "Jesus, I'm not out to make him over into…"
"I didn't say it was a bad thing," Bovver interrupted her and watched her eyes widen in shock. "Pete's always been a top bloke, he'd walk into oncoming traffic for any of this mates if they asked him to, but since you came along…you're good for him is what I'm saying." He pointed at her. "But that doesn't mean you're any less of a fucking pain in the arse, do you get me?"
Against her will, Allie actually smiled at him; she had a feeling that as far as compliments went with someone like Bovver, that was the best she would ever get.
"So if I asked you again, nicely, to help me plan a party for him, what would you say?" she asked nervously.
"I'd say that I'm meeting Keith in an hour so you're going to have to talk quick and don't even ask about fucking biscuits with your coffee because I don't fucking have any,"
Allie nodded and laughed, walking back over to him and sat down on one of the ancient looking overstuffed arm chairs in his living room. Watching as he pulled two mugs out of the cupboard and dumped them on the side, he frowned at her.
"I know I'm fucking pretty, but instead of staring at me you could start yapping about the 7,000 ideas I don't doubt you've got in your head." He told her.
"Right," Allie nodded and then grinned at him. "Well, what are your thoughts on fancy dress?…"