THE SIMPLE NEED
AN – I dedicate this chapter with love to Abigail on her birthday; and a day early to Kirsten for her birthday because I guarantee I won't have another update ready for the purpose tomorrow :D
xoxoxoxo to both of you.
~ *~
THE SIMPLE NEED
FIVE
"Oh fuck, that's so good. I've wanted this allll day long."
"Look at the head on that bad boy."
"Impressive, isn't it?"
Troy and Chad were at a restaurant-come-bar named McCall's, sitting alongside one another on stools at the bar. Each had a tall glass of ice cold beer sitting in front of them. It was a weekly ritual, catching up for a beer. Sometimes a week would pass and this would be the only contact the two had – but at a minimum, they made the effort to catch up once a week for a glass of frosty nectar.
"How's work been?" Troy asked.
Chad nodded. "Good. You?"
"Yeah not bad. Pretty quiet. David has taken some time off so I'm pretty much in charge."
"How's the band?"
"Picked up a few extra gigs around the place."
"Sweet. Parties mostly?
"Yup."
This was the usual extent of the conversation between Troy and Chad – small talk about their lives of present, which would barely skim the surface. The reality was that Chad knew that Troy was on the whole, not entirely satisfied with how his life had turned out. And whereas he'd never say it out loud, Troy didn't like to hear the details of the existence Chad had developed for himself – job he loved, the perfect partner. So they skimmed over the mundane aspects of life and focused on the random, or reminisced about the past.
"How's Coach?"
Troy grinned. "Yeah, getting more stubborn in his old age. It certainly hasn't cut back on his energy. He's started coaching this kids team outside of school, like, an under 10s team."
Chad laughed. "That's Coach for you, always on the go."
Troy nodded. "Yeah. They want me to go back and visit them soon. Dad was talking about an the assistant Coach job that might be coming available soon."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Me and Tay were thinking about heading back over spring break. You can come with, if you wanted?"
Troy wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, I was thinking more of avoiding the subject. If my parents want to see me, they can come to New York City."
"Where you can't host them at your place and they'll have to stay at a hotel?"
"They deserve a vacation every now and again. Why not vacation to the most awesome city in the world where their favourite son lives?"
Chad rolled his eyes, not even bothering to point out that Troy was Jack and Lucille's only son. "Yes, I suppose."
They both fell silent, taking a simultaneous sip from their beers.
"So, any interesting stories from the week? Hang out with anyone cool?" Troy asked casually, reaching out for their pitcher of beer and refilling his glass.
Chad set his beer down on the bench, and closed his eyes briefly. He'd known it was coming, but Troy had lost his creative touch of asking about her. On previous occasions, Troy had at least had a hint of suaveness about bringing up 'people' who Taylor and Chad may and may not have been hanging out with at some point. Now, not only was the question just randomly put out there, but there was an edge to his tone, an edge where Chad knew that Troy was fishing and he knew exactly what he was fishing for.
"Dude," Chad said, shaking his head disapprovingly.
"What?" Troy said warily.
"It's been six weeks."
"Six weeks what?"
"We catch up for a beer once a week. Every week for six weeks you've brought her up."
"It's called making conversation, Danforth."
"You haven't asked about my other neighbours or friends in the past," Chad pointed out, before adding quickly, "And don't say you haven't met them."
"Not only haven't I met them, but I also haven't fucked any of them," Troy pointed out with a slightly cocky grin – a grin that was wiped away when Chad gave a validated smirk and a nod.
"Exactly."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It's six weeks later. You haven't seen her since. And yet you're asking me about her? You don't keep talking about other girls that you've scored with."
"What are you implying?" Troy asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Well for starters, that maybe she's made a lasting impression on you for a good reason?"
"She was a good lay?"
"Have you gotten laid since then?"
Troy paused, and confessed, "Well, no. But that's got nothing to do with anything."
"Bolton, this is you. It's got everything to do with it."
"You're so full of it," Troy said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not talking about this."
"Yeah, course you're not," Chad said, shaking his head.
"And don't give me that disapproving look either. I get enough shit from my mom about wanting grandkids without you getting on my back."
"Does she know that she could have dozens of grandkids running around that she doesn't know about?"
Troy rolled his eyes. "I always, always use condoms."
"They're not always effective, you know, it says it on the box."
"And now you're gonna give me a sex ed class? Coz I came here to have a few beers with my buddy, not to be lectured, and I don't have a problem with heading back to my place to..."
"Oh calm down and stop being dramatic," Chad interrupted, rolling his eyes.
"So changing the subject?"
"Fine. So... how about them Knicks?"
~ *~
Dressed in a pair of sweats, a tank top and a Harvard sweatshirt, Gabriella was peering into her freezer in search of something to eat. She'd worked through lunch, only having the granola bar and banana she'd brought with her. Needless to say she was famished and of course she was famished in a week where she hadn't had time to do a proper grocery shop. She was contemplating between throwing a frozen pizza in the oven and defrosting some mince to make a quick pasta meal when there came a knock at her door.
Gabriella frowned, glancing toward the sound. Her apartment had an intercom system so anyone visiting her had to buzz in to be allowed access into the building, unless they'd slipped in behind a resident. Even then, she didn't really know anyone in the city yet, not well enough to be warranted having a visitor without warning. She cautiously moved toward the door and peered through the peek hole, being filled with relief as she spotted the familiar face. She smiled as she unlatched the keychain, pulling the door open.
"Hey!"
Taylor smiled widely. "Sorry to come by randomly but it was sort of a spur of the moment thing."
"No, it's fine; come in," Gabriella encouraged her, stepping back to allow her into the apartment.
"Chad is out for the evening and I just ordered a Margherita pizza without thinking and I was wondering if you want to come up and share it with me? I so cannot eat the whole thing on my own and as much as Chad would appreciate the leftovers, I wouldn't mind the company... that is if you're not doing anything?"
Gabriella glanced down at her comfortable navy sweats. "Do I need to get changed?"
"You are dressed perfectly," Taylor declared with a grin, looking down at her own dark grey sweats.
"I'll just grab my cell phone and keys," Gabriella told her, holding up her index finger to indicate she would only be a moment.
Taylor nodded and began to examine some of the photographs and assorted decorative pieces which Gabriella had set out since she'd last been in the apartment, resting along a shelf in a cabinet. They'd kept in casual touch since Gabriella had moved in, running into one another in the corridors and going for coffee a few times, but Taylor hadn't been in the apartment itself since helping Gabriella move in. She smiled as she glanced at framed photographs of who she assumed was Gabriella's mother with Gabriella in a graduation gown, a family photo from when her friend was a little girl, a group of people at a bar holding up cocktails and beer bottles in a toast.
She made her way along, fingers resting on the shelf and running across the timber, when they knocked into something small. Taylor glanced down – and her eyes fell upon an object which was foreign at first, but upon picking it up and examining closely, she identified as being a guitar pick.
"Hey, I didn't know you played guitar!" Taylor called out excitedly toward the bedroom.
"Huh?" Gabriella's voice called back out.
"I just saw your guitar pick. That's so cool; I've always wanted to play an instrument but just never had time to learn."
Gabriella emerged from her room, having grabbed her cell and keys and also switched her fuzzy purple slippers for slightly more appropriate ugg boots. She was thoroughly confused, and it was only seeing Taylor standing in front of her cabinet with a guitar pick in hand that she understood. She desperately wanted to change the subject but it seemingly wasn't an option because Taylor was interested in the subject.
"How long have you been playing?" Taylor pursued. "Sometimes I think I should learn an instrument now but it's like, is it too late to bother learning? It would just be for fun of course."
"I don't play guitar," Gabriella blurted out.
"Oh?" Taylor's eyes drifted toward the pick in her hand, perplexed.
Gabriella was an intelligent, multi talented girl. Lying, however, was not one of her talents. She couldn't even get to the point of trying coming up with some sort of plausible excuse for why she had a random guitar pick when she didn't own a guitar. Instead, she found herself with the truth – and desperate attempt to speak casually.
"It's Troy's pick. I accidentally brought it home with me after leaving his place."
Taylor blinked. "Accidentally?"
"Seriously," Gabriella said truthfully – it had been an accident. "He taught me some chords for a song, and then we were talking and I was fiddling with it and shoved it in my pocket at some point absentmindedly. I realised it was in there later on."
Taylor nodded. This explanation alone was relatively reasonable, but placed within context – Taylor did not find it acceptable.
"And you kept it?" Taylor asked.
"Um... yeah?"
"And you kept it, not shoving it into some drawer of random items, but you kept Troy's pick, a guy who you slept with, up on your shelf of precious items? On a shelf with photos of family and friends, with important trinkets that tell stories of your travels, with items that look like they could be family heirlooms?"
"Yes."
Gabriella was staring at the floor sheepishly, unable to say a word. Taylor sighed, and moved over to the kitchen where she'd spied a bottle of red wine setting on the counter. "Was this expensive?"
"Not at all."
"Good. Something tells me we're going to need it. Now come on, the pizza guy will be buzzing soon and I don't want to miss him."
~ *~
Chad glanced around the bar, his eyes falling upon a pair of girls, one blonde, one brunette, both knock outs.
"They're hot," Chad remarked.
Troy's eyebrows quirked. "Things not good with Tay?"
Chad's lips curved into a smile. "On the contrary, my friend, things are awesome with Taylor, better than ever. I was pointing them out for you."
Troy gave the girls a once over, shrugging. "They're okay."
"Not up to your high standards?"
"Look, dude, you're not exactly my ideal wingman."
"I'll go up and talk to them with you, I will! Taylor trusts me."
"Yeah, and then they see your wedding ring and then instead of it looking like we're going up to chat casually, it looks like you're my wingman. It doesn't work. Besides, a half hour ago you were having a go at me for being a man whore and now you're encouraging me?"
Chad sighed, and then said. "Why don't you come over for drinks one night and I can get Taylor to invite Gabriella and..."
"Chad, dude, no!" Troy said, exasperated.
"Obviously you're into her! I don't know why you're so scared of it."
"I'm not scared of anything, you're talking shit."
"Troy. We've been like brothers since preschool. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that this woman hasn't been on your mind?" Chad's tone was serious, imploring.
Troy sighed, picking up his mug and tipping the remaining contents back into his throat, chugging the last few mouthfuls in one go.
"Hypothetically speaking..." he said carefully. "Gabriella is a beautiful, intelligent, sexy and talented. She's a fucking college professor. If and I mean if I had any sort of continuing... interest... it isn't gonna happen. I know that. It was a one night stand, simple. It was a brilliant, amazing one night stand, but nonetheless a one night stand."
Chad ignored the latter part of Troy's argument. "Beautiful, intelligent, sexy, talented..." he said musingly.
"What?" Troy asked irritably.
"You are sooooo whipped!"
Troy rolled his eyes and shoved Chad lightly. "Shut the fuck up."
Chad laughed and signalled the bartender to bring them a fresh pitcher, which was promptly brought over and the empty pitcher removed. Troy picked up the pitcher and refilled both of their mugs, each of them picking up the glasses and taking a long sip of the refreshing amber liquid.
"Troy?" Chad said quietly.
Troy closed his eyes momentarily, knowing what was coming – and yet he couldn't be bothered to fight it.
"What?" he said, rolling his eyes slightly, preparing himself for 'the speech.' The speech where Chad would tell him all about just how absolutely wonderful married life was, that commitment suddenly makes sense when you find the right person and that sometimes the right person isn't who you'd expect it to be – after all, he never would have predicted he and Taylor would hit it off – and so Troy should get back into the dating game rather than the fucking around game.
"You're gonna wake up one day and regret not giving it a shot with this one."
"Danforth, I don't live my life with regrets."
"Yeah? If that's the case, then don't start now, coz this is something you are gonna regret, trust me. Seriously man. If I'd thought that there was a girl who'd legitimately caught your attention over the last eighteen months I'd have said this sooner. You care about this one. Don't let some complex stop you from pursuing it. Not all relationships are gonna work out. Sometimes you get screwed over. Get over it. Not all girls are bitches. This life you're living... it isn't you, man."
"Maybe I've changed," Troy countered defensively.
Chad shook his head. "You want people to think that but... I know you, Troy."
~ *~
Gabriella was trying to decide whether she should wait for Taylor to interrogate her. It was impending, without a doubt. The short time they'd known each other had made blatantly clear that Taylor wasn't one to sit back and watch something go on when she felt concern for a friend. They were sitting on the couch, the pizza box was half empty, the wine bottle was about three quarters consumed. And there was a pink elephant lurking behind them, it had lurked as Gabriella initiated conversation about their work and the weather and the Knicks –and Gabriella didn't even watch basketball. The room had gone quiet, and the topic which Gabriella had desperately wanted to avoid was somehow suddenly less daunting – and there was a part of her that both wanted and needed to talk about it, to get her feelings out in the air instead of keeping them tightly inside her overly analytical head.
"I think about him sometimes," Gabriella blurted out.
"Him?" Taylor knew who 'him' was. She just wanted Gabriella to say the name, out loud.
She hesitated, before stipulating quietly, "Troy."
"Why?" Taylor prodded.
"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "Maybe it's just hormones. You know, I'm single and I had the best sex of my life with him and maybe that's all that I'm craving."
"It was that good, huh? To be looking back like, over a month later..."
"It'll be seven weeks tomorrow," Gabriella specified.
"Right, so almost two months later, you're looking back and thinking about it?"
"It was really, really good." Gabriella blushed as she spoke – but it was the truth. "Not that I have much of a comparative basis... my prior experiences were fairly vanilla."
"And so you have his guitar pick on your..."
"It's not like I sleep with it under my pillow," Gabriella said defensively, rolling her eyes.
"But you kept it! If it was only a one night stand, I don't know why you'd have anything of his."
Gabriella was silent – and she certainly wasn't going to mention Troy's blue shirt which was in her bedroom.
"We connected, Taylor. I know that he doesn't do dating and relationships. He could not have made that any clearer, and I got into this knowing very well what it was. But we connected and I can't help but think about that connection. It wasn't just about sex... there was something more to it that I can't explain. It isn't just me being a typical girl and not being able to separate sex from emotion. It was there, I felt it between us."
Taylor sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, Gabriella... I don't want to encourage you. Troy is an awesome guy, he's funny and undoubtedly he's sex on legs and despite all the bravado, there's a really sweet guy beneath the exterior. But the way that he approaches relationships at the moment..."
"Why he is like he is? I know there's a sweet guy beneath it all... but obviously something happened."
Taylor shrugged. "It wasn't like there was some big tragic event. Just one too many relationships that ended badly. Troy is a very passionate guy, when he gets involved with someone he really puts every inch of his heart into it. He's had the same experiences that lots of people have had – he's had his heart broken, been cheated on a couple of times. The last one was about eighteen months ago, he'd been with her for about six months and they were really serious and she slept with a friend of his. Since then he's just been very jaded. Content to live the bachelor life style – if you don't trust anyone, you can't get hurt."
"I don't know how anyone can do that," Gabriella said sadly. "Cheat on someone – especially in a long term relationship."
Taylor shook her head. "Neither do I. But yeah... since then, it's just like something snapped for him. Whole new outlook. And from what I can tell, it's not an outlook that he's going to be willing to drop anytime soon. Which leads me back to cautioning you."
"Taylor, you don't need to caution me. I'm not..." Gabriella sighed. "It's not like I'm planning to pursue him or anything. I haven't seen him since the morning after. I've purposely avoided seeing him – why do you think I've kept turning down your offers to come to the bar on Friday nights?"
"I'd just thought it would be a not wanting to be awkward thing, not.... you know... because of any residual feelings."
"It's not a big deal, really," Gabriella said, with a forced brightness. "I'll get over it. I hardly know the guy, as if I could actually be really feeling something for him."
Taylor shrugged. "Sometimes you don't need that long to develop a certain connection."
Gabriella paused, fiddling with the now empty wine glass that was in her hand. Truthfully – she knew that was the case. Instantly upon meeting Troy she'd felt those sparks, the night and morning she'd spent with him had only amplified the feeling inside. Yes she'd avoided blatantly seeing him since that night, but that hadn't stopped her from casually walking past his apartment and contemplating going into some of the music stores in the area. As much as she was avoiding seeing him – another part of her had desperately craved seeing him again. She reached out for the wine bottle, tipping it up completely upside down to empty out every last remaining drop from the glass bottle. She picked up her glass and took a long mouthful.
"Do you have more wine?" Gabriella asked, eyeing off the bottle she'd emptied. "I suddenly think I'm going to need a lot more."
"Do you have work tomorrow?" Taylor asked, raising her eyebrows.
Gabriella shook her head. "Technically, no. I don't teach any classes, its a whole research day."
"Then yes. I do have another bottle of wine."
. . . . . . . . . . .
"It won't take long, come up and say hi to Tay while I grab the tickets," Chad said as they approached the apartment building on the corner of Bedford and Grove.
"Are you sure you can't go?" Troy asked.
Chad shook his head. "Nah man. It's up to you and Zeke if you invite someone else or sell the ticket."
"They're such awesome seats, too!"
"I know, believe me. But this dinner is important to Tay and there will be other basketball games."
"It's not going to be the same without you. I don't think I even know anyone other than you guys that is into basketball. Everyone here seems to be more into baseball, I don't get it."
"We're not in Albuquerque anymore, that's for sure."
"I might wait out here," Troy said, glancing up at the building.
Chad rolled his eyes. "The likelihood of running into her in the hallway in the few minutes it'll take to get up there is very unlikely. Besides, what's the difference between standing down here and waiting up there? If she's coming home she'll pass you and if she's coming out she'll pass you."
"I wasn't thinking about running into her. I don't care if I run into her," Troy shot back.
Chad scoffed. "Yeah. Right. Come on."
Troy exhaled and followed Chad into the building. "So uh... what floor does she live on, anyway?" he asked casually.
"You're not interested and yet you're asking me that?" Chad asked, eyebrow quirked. Troy went to respond but was cut off. "Yeah yeah, making conversation, good excuse."
"Next time I'll be sure to ask you about your thoughts on the type of paint used on the wall here."
"She lives on the third floor. She's like, below us but in the apartment across the corridor."
"Was responding to my polite small talk so difficult?"
When they passed the third floor landing, Troy couldn't help but sneak a curious glance up the hallway. Chad observed this but decided to let it go, merely rolling his eyes. They climbed the final flight of stairs and as they rounded into the fourth floor hallway, the sound of loud female singing clearly heard even through the door.
"What the hell?" Chad remarked.
"Taylor wants you to get evicted, it seems," Troy remarked with a smirk.
Chad glanced at his watch – it was 10pm, not too late but late enough that the neighbours might not be appreciative. At least Mr. Gator across the corridor was practically deaf. He pulled out his keys from his pocket, as the front door swung open the sight in the living room in front of the television suddenly clarifying what all the racket was about.
Chad smirked as he spied his wife and the dark haired beauty from downstairs clutching onto microphones that were connected to a PlayStation console. Taylor was sitting down but Gabriella, on the other hand, was standing up. Both women were oblivious at first to the entrance of the men, giving them the chance to watch and observe. Chad glanced at Troy who appeared utterly elated at the sight of Gabriella.
Since she'd left his apartment almost seven weeks earlier, he'd imagined so many ways that he would see her again. He'd imagined running into her at the grocery store, or her coming to see one of his shows. But never would he have imagined this – seeing her singing, even with her drunken slur her incredible voice shining through, her hips swinging, her free arm raising up into the air as she moved and grooved in time with the music. The music, the melody, the lyric, had penetrated her soul and the sight was mesmerising.
"And you see me, somebody new, I'm not this chained up little person still in love with you..."
Taylor was the first to spot the men, immediately dropping her microphone and ceasing her singing, her cheeks heating as she felt embarrassed at being caught red handed. However Gabriella was so caught up within her own world that she was oblivious to them watching her, even as Taylor's hand clamped over her mouth and giggled she hadn't realised. It was only when Taylor grabbed her arm and gestured that Gabriella spun around – causing momentary dizziness.
"Well, well, well. Looks like I cannot leave my wife alone without her getting into mischief," Chad remarked.
Gabriella squinted, confirming that she had, indeed, laid her eyes upon Troy watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. She was quiet, the alcohol blurring her capability to decide what she was supposed to say. 'How have you been; had any good fucks lately?' didn't seem appropriate.
"It was her idea," Taylor said quickly.
"I knew you played with my gaming consoles when I wasn't here," Chad teased his wife.
Troy stepped forward, observing the scene of two empty red wine bottles which gave a lot of context to why the women were playing SingStar on a Thursday night.
"Why hello beautiful," his silky tone came, lips curving into a grin.
Three words and she melted. Gabriella took a couple of careful, staggering steps toward him. "Hi handsome," she said flirtatiously in return.
"Being a bad influence on Taylor, are you?"
"I think she's the bad influence. I was happily looking forward to a night of preparing lesson plans and my Sudoku book."
"Sudoku? You really do walk on the wild side," Troy teased.
She giggled, blushing slightly. "You so were not supposed to hear me singing. I never sing in front of people. I may not talk to Taylor ever again for making me get drunk and be caught dancing and singing by a really hot guy who has seen me naked."
Troy held back a laugh at her slightly slurred remark. "Well beautiful, I've heard you sing, and I've danced with you in more than one way already."
"This is true," she said, her cheeks flushing.
As he had conversed with her, Troy had kept a close eye on Chad and Taylor who were engaging in a whispered conversation just across the room. They weren't exactly being subtle about the content of their conversation – not very discreet glances and hand gestures.
"So beautiful, tell me why a girl like you is drinking a whole lot of red wine on a Thursday evening?" Troy asked.
Gabriella shrugged dismissively. "The mood felt right."
"Is everything okay?" he asked, feeling a wave of worry that something had happened to cause her to feel the need to wallow in sorrow.
"Oh Troy. There's no need to pretend like you particularly care," she said with a slight smile.
He cocked his head to the side. "I am human, Gabriella. I don't like when bad things happen to good people. You're a good person."
"Well you can rest easy stud, everything is fine and dandy."
Her tone was a tad forced and she was avoiding looking him directly in the eye. Before he could press her further, Taylor came across the room.
"Hey guys, I'm not feeling well so Chad is just going to help me settle into bed. Troy, do you think you could make sure Gabriella gets home okay?"
Troy was too busy glaring at Chad to notice the wide eyed stare between Gabriella and Taylor. "Um, sure, that's fine Taylor," Troy said a little distantly.
"You don't have to, I'll be fine. I might be drunk but I'm not a moron, I think I can walk down a flight of stairs," Gabriella said – and punctuated the point by swaying backwards and forwards and almost tripping over her own feet just by standing on the spot.
"Nonetheless, I think I'll feel better if I help you," Troy said with a small smirk, holding back a blatant laugh of amusement.
Gabriella didn't have it within herself to argue. If she hadn't been drinking, she would have been mortified about what to say to him during this coincidental encounter. Instead, she was simply feeling a twang of excitement just by having him within her presence. She gathered her things and Troy waited by the door as she had a few brief words with Taylor in the kitchen. He held the door open for her and his hand then rested gently on her back as they walked up the hallway toward the stairs.
"I hope Taylor feels okay," Gabriella commented conversationally.
"I think it's you that I'm more worried about and how you're going to feel in the morning."
"No pain no gain," she responded dismissively. "And right now, I feel fabulous.
One step down and she was clutching to the banister. "Woah..."
He gripped his arm around her slender waist. "Easy."
"I didn't realise I drank this much," she murmured. "You must think I'm an alcoholic. We've met twice and both times I've drank a lot. I haven't drank since last time I saw you, I swear."
"Let's just label it as coincidence. When I see you next time, if you're drunk, then I may point you toward AA."
"Next time?" she enquired.
"Well, you know, it'll happen at some point," he said loosely. "I didn't expect to run into tonight and yet here we are."
"You just wanted to get into my apartment, you must have planned all of this," Gabriella quipped with a slightly flirtatious grin.
Troy chuckled. "That's exactly right, beautiful. That's how much I wanted to see you again."
They reached her front door and Gabriella blinked, reaching out with her hand to prop herself up against the door frame.
"Gabriella?" Troy asked gently.
"Sorry, I just felt dizzy for a moment," she murmured.
"Here, give me your keys," he said urgently, prying them out of her free hand.
He took about a half a second to smile at the little soft teddy bear on her key chain before quickly unlocking the door and stepping back to allow her through.
"Are you going to be sick?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No. I don't think so."
He didn't even think twice, just followed her in, wanting to make sure that she got to bed okay.
"Why don't you go get ready for bed and I'll bring you in a glass of water?" Troy suggested.
He set down her keys on the counter beside where she'd put down her cell phone and then entered the kitchen area. After opening four different cabinets he succeeded in locating a glass, and found a pitcher of water in the fridge to pour her a beverage. He heard the toilet flush and saw her come out of the bathroom and disappear into the room next door. He waited a few minutes, just glancing around in her apartment. It had a contemporary feel to it, but it was homey, with lots of decorative pieces, photo frames, comfy cushions on the couch, art pieces on the walls. It was reasonably tidy but lived in – some paperwork on the dining table, magazines on the coffee table with a stray empty glass.
He headed toward her bedroom, deciding he must have given her enough time. He knocked on the door and she didn't respond so he pushed the door open. Two things registered to him – that her bed was a mattress on the floor; and that she was almost naked. The mattress floated away, and instead his eyes widened as the sight of her standing facing toward him, only wearing a pair of panties, clutching at a shirt and scratching at the surface of the material. The way she was holding it blocked any complete visual, but nonetheless Troy immediately whipped around.
"Shit, I'm sorry," he apologised.
"You've seen me naked and I'm drunk. I don't care," she responded.
"What are you doing?" he asked, still facing out into the apartment, ignoring her claimed lack of concern. Troy had been brought up well, he wasn't going to use her drunkenness as a means to perve on her.
"I spilled pizza sauce on my tank top," she said with a pout.
"Oh," he said, smiling slightly at the concern in her tone. "Just fix it up tomorrow, there's nothing you can do now." He heard some rustling around. "You getting dressed?"
"This seems out of character for you," she remarked.
"Sorry?"
"Demanding that an almost naked girl put on more clothes. Is my body that off putting that you need me to cover up?"
He swallowed. "Uh no, kinda the opposite actually. I need you to cover up because your body is actually rather appealing."
"It's not taking advantage when the other person would be willing," she said lightly. "You can turn around now, by the way."
Troy internally groaned. He was a man, she was hot, and despite his morals, the brief sight of her almost nude body had stirred a reaction within him. His mind was experiencing momentarily flashbacks, images of her smooth, supple skin. "I think you've drank too much wine to judge whether you'd be willing," he said, warily turning around.
She was dressed in a blue t-shirt – a t-shirt that was awfully familiar. Troy's eyebrow quirked, his eyes roaming over her body.
"Oh... I'm wearing your shirt," she said, eyes widening. She'd just grabbed the shirt from under her pillow without really thinking.
"Um... that's fine," he said, swallowing. It was interesting how her wearing his shirt was even hotter than her not wearing it.
"I uh... I had it washed and was gonna give it to Taylor to give to Chad to give back to you. But then one week I hadn't done my laundry in ages and it was there and I needed something to wear to bed so I did... and the material is really soft and it was really nice to sleep in."
"Um... it's fine. You can keep it," he managed to say. He wasn't sure what else to say. Maybe he wasn't sure about how to put a label to any feelings he was experiencing beyond attraction – but the attraction was raging, that was for sure.
"I can't believe you still haven't put your bed together," he commented, needing something to focus on other than the way that the shirt was riding up and another half an inch and he'd have a view of the bottom of her panties.
"I need a strong, virile man around to help me out with it," she commented. "You volunteering?"
"You should ask Chad."
"Mmm maybe." Her eyes were fluttering wearily.
"Okay, time to... I'd say get into bed, but lie down on your mattress might be the correct phrase," Troy commented. "Here's your glass of water, I'll just put it on the nightstand, okay?" He crouched down as she slid under her comforter, the alcohol combined with lying down making her head swirl. "And I've left your keys and cell phone on the counter, okay?"
"Mmm hmm..."
"Do I need to set you an alarm for tomorrow?"
"No. No teaching on Friday," she murmured, snuggling into her pillow.
"Okay."
Her eyes fluttered open. "Troy? Thanks for looking after me," she said, and sat up to give him a sweet peck on the lips.
His eyes widened, lips tingling slightly at the after sensation of feeling her lips touching his. Such a sweet, chaste kiss, and it was touching him in a place that he wasn't really aware that a kiss could touch him. Somewhere deeper than lust – somewhere that altogether frightened him, but he was beginning to become more familiar with that fear.
"You're welcome," he murmured, and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.
He rose to his feet, flicked the bedroom light off and closed the door behind her. Troy then went back out into the main living area to make sure that her cell phone and keys were in a prominent location on the counter as he had said they would be.
He spotted a notepad and pen sitting beside the telephone – no doubt, Gabriella was the epitome of organisation and she ensured the notebook was within easy reach should she ever need to jot something down quickly whilst on the phone. In a sudden whim, he found himself tearing out a sheet of paper, picking up the pen, and scrawling a note to her.
The shirt looks cute on you. Hope you feel okay in the morning, beautiful. I'd love to see you at the show tomorrow night – well, tonight when you read this.
-T xx
He placed the note on the bench beside her cell phone. He couldn't allow himself to give it a second thought, to contemplate the meaning to his note and the suggestion. It was the closest he'd come to giving an intended one night stand his phone number in the last eighteen months. Instead he strode back across the apartment and creaked open her bedroom door. The dim light from the living area filtered in to prove that she was still okay – she'd shifted and was now sprawled flat on her back, mouth open slightly, the occasional light snore escaping her nasal passage. He stepped forward and pulled the comforter up a little higher, making sure that she was properly covered and that she wouldn't wake up from a chill.
"Night beautiful," he murmured in a whisper, and stepped back, taking one final glance at her before moving out of the room, closing the door behind him, and exiting the apartment.
~ * ~
He went back upstairs, finding Chad and Taylor's apartment unlocked – evidently they were expecting his return. Despite Chad's lame comment that Taylor hadn't been feeling well, he found them still sitting on the couch.
"Not cool guys, not cool at all," he announced with a roll of the eyes.
"I swear to God man, I had no idea that she was gonna be here," Chad said truthfully.
"He's telling the truth, I decided really spontaneously to invite her over tonight. I had no idea that Chad was going to ask you to come back here after you'd left the bar," Taylor added in his defence.
Troy had known both of them for many years, and he'd developed a fairly strong radar to detect dishonesty. They both seemed fairly genuine.
"Let's say I'm inclined to believe you – what was with the whole pretending to be sick crap?" he asked, eyebrows quirked. "You cannot possibly deny that."
"Just thought I'd give you the chance to talk to her, that's all," Chad said with a shrug.
Troy gave a sideways glance to Taylor, wanting to ask exactly what Chad revealed from their conversation. "Yes well, she's drunk, I took her home, she passed out. She possibly won't even remember that I was there."
"Do you want her phone number? You could call her and ask if she's okay?" Taylor suggested.
Troy rolled his eyes. "No thanks. Chad, give me the tickets so I can get the fuck out of here."
Chad sighed and grabbed an envelope from the counter to hand over. "There you go."
"Thank you. Now I'm leaving, unless you two have any further matchmaking commentary?"
"I think we're good... for tonight, anyway," Chad said with a teasing grin.
Troy rolled his eyes and turned to head out the door. "Good night," he called behind him, and made the journey back down the flight of stairs. He paused at the landing, glancing at the hallway where her apartment was just a few feet away, and kept going.
~ * ~
Less than twenty four hours later, Troy was pacing backwards and forwards in the back of house area of their bar. For the fourth time, Troy creaked open the door which separated their area from the main bar area, and peered out into the crowded in search of a familiar face. He spotted Chad, Zeke, Taylor and Sharpay at their usual table, with no additional companion. He felt the pang of disappointment within – disappointment that he was finally beginning to understand why he was feeling such a way. He'd truly hoped she was going to make an appearance. He had no expectations beyond that – but he just desperately wanted to see her out there. Writing that note in some ways had been hard – but in other ways, it felt right.
"Troy, dude, come on," Andy's voice said from behind. "Time to make a final decision for the set list."
With one final scan of the bar, Troy sighed and moved over to where the guys were scribbling out the set list. They'd added a cover of a song from Red Jumpsuit Apparatus' latest album, and also a track from an old Hoobastank album.
"Dude, the MySpace page says it all. They want us to do S.E.X. again," Drew said.
"Look, man, I said no," Troy said, sighing huffily.
"The song went off, aren't you the one that is all about giving the ladies what they want?" Steve remarked with a teasing grin.
"There is more to me than being a man whore," Troy said defensively.
"Could've fooled me."
"Look, I don't wanna do the song. What about Manhattan, or Crawl? Our set is so Nickelback heavy, let's branch out," he argued, deflecting the real rationale behind his opinion.
His band members, however, were not oblivious to the reason – and not prepared to let him get away without a little good natured ribbing.
"Yeah right. You're just obsessed with her and now have a hang up with your eye sex song. Did her snatch taste like beer or something?" Steve asked with a smirk.
"Shut the fuck up," Troy snapped.
"Boys, Bolton might finally be growing up," Drew said. "Don't even try to pretend that you're not looking for her in that crowd every week. We're not dumb."
Troy ignored the comment. "I'm not doing S.E.X. If you want to do it, you're doing it without me." His determination and stubbornness was evident.
"So Manhattan it is," Andy declared.
It was just like any other week, the guys making their way out on stage, a round of applause and a smattering of shrieks greeting them. Drew began to speak into the microphone, welcoming the crowd and doing a quick band intro as the guys settled into their instruments.
Troy stared out into the crowd, lazily playing the notes to the opening bars of a song he knew as well as he knew the back of his hand.
There were girls staring up lovingly at him, women throughout the room who he was confident would throw themselves at him if he gave them the slightest indication that he was interested.
But it wasn't any of them whose presence he desired.
There was only one.
~*~*~
The one you really want
'S. E. X' - Nickelback