THE SIMPLE NEED
SIX
~ * ~ * ~
It was a fairly chilly Thursday afternoon in Manhattan, a strong wind blowing outside, and Troy was in the mood for a nice hot drink. It was around 2pm, so it was in between the lunch and after work rushes, and there was no one waiting at the counter when he approached. He ordered a caramel macchiato and handed over his debit card to be swiped through the machine, punching in his PIN when requested. He was eyeing off the delicious treats in the display cabinet but realistically knew how much he had in his bank account and told himself to ignore them, and he might treat himself to a candy bar from the grocery store.
"I'm sorry sir, but your card has declined," the cashier informed him apologetically, breaking him from his reverie.
Troy blinked. He was broke, and therefore he was meticulous about knowing just how broke he was – to avoid this very scenario. "I'm sorry, that isn't possible. Can you try again?"
He ignored the casher's roll of the eyes, and waited as she humoured him nonetheless, swiping his card through once more and allowing him to enter in his PIN.
"It's coming up as declined again," she informed him in a bored 'I knew it would be' tone.
Troy swallowed. He knew his credit card was maxed out – it was a bad time of month, having just paid a bunch of bills. He dug into his pockets in search of some cash. He found a dollar bill and an assortment of change which he proceeded to count out onto the counter.
"I don't suppose I could owe you tomorrow?" he requested hopefully, knowing what her response was going to be. She raised her eyebrows, giving him a 'you cannot be serious' look. "Didn't think so," he muttered.
He was glancing up at the menu; trying to find something he could switch his order to for under two dollars. He was already feeling ridiculous and to go through all this drama and not leave with a beverage would be even more ridiculous. He was just about to switch his order to a tall freshly brewed coffee when he was beaten to the chase.
"I'll get that, and could you add a white chocolate mocha to the order?" a sweet feminine voice requested from behind.
Troy whirled around, eyes widening. "Gabriella!"
She smiled what she hoped was a cool smile. "Hi Troy." She turned back to the cashier. "Actually, and could I also get one of those chocolate muffins?"
"Sure thing," she cashier responded, and tallied up the total figure for Gabriella. Troy watched in slight jealousy as the petite brunette pulled a fifty dollar note from her purple wallet.
"You don't have to do that," he protested.
"Oh, I owe you one anyway, from when you bought me my coffee that morning," she said with a casual smile.
Troy rolled his eyes – he knew that she was just saying it to help him save face in front of the cashier. He wasn't going to make a big deal about it, one of his pet hates from his earlier years of working in restaurants and grocery stores was when people would argue over who was paying the bill, leaving the cashier feeling awkward. However he internally vowed that he would pay her back somehow.
"Are these dine in or to go?" the next question was asked.
"Um, I was going to have mine here..." Gabriella said, glancing at Troy.
Troy spotted that Gabriella had some papers tucked under her arm so he assumed she'd been planning to come and do some work while she drank her coffee. He bit his lip. He didn't want to intrude, but he didn't want to be rude, accept a drink she'd bought for him and dash away. He'd been brought up better than that. And so, he smoothly responded with a simple, "Dine in, thanks," and decided that if she wanted to work, he could pick up a newspaper and entertain himself.
He stood back silently while the payment was finalised and went to wait over where the drinks would be put up. Gabriella joined him a moment later, a brief moment of awkward silence falling before Troy decided to speak.
"Um... I guess I had some problem with my money transferring," Troy said, biting his lip.
She glanced sideways at him. Although she didn't know him that well, she'd already gotten the impression that he was a making ends meet kind of guy. She smiled sympathetically.
"I remember when I was in college and I went to the grocery store and my card was declining and I had no cash. I was mortified."
"Except I'm not in college so it shouldn't happen," Troy said bitterly.
He had thought he'd been really on top of his finances lately and so he literally couldn't work out where he'd miscalculated. He was grateful that she'd been there to bail him out – although he was wondering if he'd rather be embarrassed in front of the cashier or indebted to the gorgeous woman before him.
She shrugged. "It could've happened to anyone. It's no big deal."
"So, I'm guessing you were planning to get some work done?" Troy asked, gesturing toward the books she was clutching onto.
"Oh... not really," she said with a slight blush. "Truthfully I just really love it here, I love the ambiance, I love to just sit and people watch. But I feel a bit embarrassed coming alone and just sitting doing nothing so I bring a book or some marking or something so I can at least appear to be busy."
"Isn't people watching the best?" he asked with a grin. "Once I just went to Grand Central and sat on a bench for like, an hour. It's kind of fascinating."
Their drinks were put up on the counter a moment later, and Troy hesitated. "So... if you're not planning to work... think you want a people watching buddy?"
She smiled shyly, ducking her head. "I think that would be nice."
"After you," he said, holding his hand out and gesturing for her to lead the way. She took them over to the vacant duo of cushy chairs by the window – Troy picking up a pile of raw sugar along the way – and they sat down across from one another.
"This is the best place because you can watch out the window but also see people inside the store," she commented.
"You really are the expert at this."
"You seem pretty skilled at the art yourself – Grand Central?"
"It's an awesome place, seriously. You should go there sometime if you've got free time. It's like a mob mentality, everyone so immersed in their world, rushing about madly."
"You sure there isn't a psych major in you somewhere?" she enquired teasingly.
He grinned. "Pretty sure, though I did think about it. To think how different my life could've been."
She shook her head. "You're following your passion. Your life is centralised around something you love. Everything you do has something to do with music."
"Yeah, and barely getting by," he pointed out.
"You're still figuring out things. We're young, you've got plenty of time to get it together."
"So you're agreeing that I'm a mess?" he asked teasingly. "I didn't realise you knew me well enough to have the knowledge to make such an observation."
Her eyes widened and she blushed furiously. "I wasn't... I didn't mean it like... You're the one who said it!"
He held up a hand, silencing her. "Gabriella. Chill. I was teasing."
Even with his assurance, she felt bad at even the suggestion that he could've construed her words in that way. "Um so... how have you been, anyway?" she asked, deciding to step back to basics. "Since I haven't seen you in a while."
Troy grinned, thinking to himself that the last time she saw him he would've been a blur, or perhaps she would've been seeing two of him. "Yeah, I've been okay. I trust you recovered okay from your girls' night with Taylor?"
Gabriella's expression filled with confusion, and touch of worry. "I'm sorry?"
"Last Thursday," Troy further explained, reminding her with a small grin. "You were that drunk that you don't even remember it? Wow."
"No no, I remember the girls' night, of course I do, but how did you know about it?"
It was Troy's turn to look slightly bewildered. "Um... you... don't remember anything?"
"Taylor invited me to her place, we pigged out on pizza and junk food and drank a lot of wine and from there it gets a bit blurry and the next thing I remember I was waking up feeling putrid. I assume Taylor made sure I got downstairs okay. Why, was she talking about me?"
Gabriella's eyes widened – she remembered enough of the evening to recall blubbering to Taylor all about her continuing attraction to Troy and the constant recollections of her evening with him. She felt an inherent trust in Taylor, the girls had bonded quickly – but in reality, she couldn't know where Taylor's loyalties fell and whether she might've said something to Troy about Gabriella's continuing feelings.
"Uh you... you seriously don't remember the middle part of that story?" he asked, swallowing.
"Um, no, I don't. And I'm sort of demanding that you tell me now!"
He hesitated. He didn't want to deliberately embarrass her, but he sensed that she was the kind of woman who would prefer the truth.
"It's not a big deal," Troy said carefully, not wanting to alarm her. "Me and Chad went out for a few beers that night and I came back to his place to grab something he had for me and we came in while you girls were a bit silly."
She groaned. "Oh great. You saw me while I was drunk. Even better."
"Um yes... and then I helped you back to your place and made sure you got to bed okay," he additionally volunteered.
She blinked. "How can I not remember this?"
He grinned. "It wasn't like we had epic conversation. I got you to bed, made sure you had your things, left you a note and left."
"You left me a note?" Gabriella asked, eyebrows furrowed.
She thought back to the note she'd received, the one she'd assumed was from Taylor.
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
"That was from you?" she asked incredulously.
Troy was bewildered – her shock was genuine, and he was genuinely shocked by her shock.
"I thought that was obvious. I called you beautiful."
"Well Taylor uses terms like honey and sweetie so I just thought it was her. You signed it T!"
"I referred to the show..."
"Taylor and Chad ask me to come with them to the bar nearly every week."
"I talked about the shirt looking cute..."
"I just thought Taylor was making a joke, teasing me because I was wearing it!" she groaned. "Oh my God! You saw me completely smashed – you must think I'm the biggest drunk in the world! I've met you three times and two of them I was drunk!"
He smirked, recalling her remarks about having met him twice and that she was drinking both times a week earlier.
"Bet you're wishing your coffee had some Baileys or Brandy in it now, huh?" he teased. Seeing the mortified expression on her face though, he questioned whether she was in the frame of mind to handle a gentle teasing. "Gabriella, seriously, it's not a big deal."
She was processing the information and despite his words of comfort hearing alarm bells go off. "So uh, you um, you saw me using your shirt, did you?" she asked hesitantly, before adding quickly, 'Because, you know, I literally wore it when I had nothing else clean. I had washed it and was going to give it to Taylor and Chad to get back to you."
"So you told me last Thursday. It's all good – it looks better on you, anyway," he teased. "Rather than being embarrassed about being smashed or wearing my shirt, you know what I think you should be embarrassed about?"
She groaned. "What?" she asked sombrely.
"The fact that I saw your pathetic mattress on the floor."
She giggled and blushed. "It's still there, by the way."
He shook his head at her, mockingly disappointed. "Seriously, Gabriella, you've lived there for two months! Obviously you're relatively financially stable, I don't know why you don't just hire someone to come put it together for you. They have people who do that, there are lots of people like you who cannot stand putting flat pack furniture together."
She sighed. "I don't know either. I just keep putting it off. God, you're right though, that is embarrassing. I'm mature enough to have my own mortgage but not to have my furniture put together?"
Troy laughed. "The way I see it is that you have to have some kind of flaw. You've got everything else going for you, after all."
She blushed, ducking her head. "My my, that sounded like flirtation..."
"You wish it was flirtation," he shot back with a teasing grin.
The blush on her cheeks remained but her smile widened. She wasn't about to confirm nor deny that statement – she really didn't know what she wished was between them. What they both knew was that there was something about their communication that was refreshing – it was comfortable, it was real, and it was exciting.
"So, not working tonight?" she enquired.
They fell into a simple small talk oriented conversation, discussing the simplicities of life and their jobs that they seemed to have skipped over during their last (somewhat) sober conversation – instead choosing to participate in an exchange of innuendo filled remarks.
A half hour flew and both coffee cups had long since emptied. Gabriella was picking at her half eaten muffin as they talked, and when the conversation hit a lull, she moved the plate toward Troy and declared, "Ugh I'm so full. I don't know why I added this muffin; it was like, an impulse thing. It looked so good! Do you want it?"
"Is this a pity muffin for the broke guy?" he asked, eyeing it off.
"No, I'm genuinely full. I will throw it in the trash if you don't want it."
That was all the encouragement that Troy needed to seize the remaining half of the muffin and in two swift bites, he'd devoured the chocolatey goodness.
"Wow that was amazing. At the price they charge for them, I guess they'd better be freaking amazing."
Gabriella smiled. She wasn't going to comment, but she couldn't help but find it of interest how the cost of the muffin was something of relevance to Troy. She was in a fairly solid financial position for someone of her age and if she felt like buying a muffin, she'd buy a muffin. She'd be more worried about counting the calories than the pennies. One would think living in New York City and walking past homeless people begging for loose change on a daily basis would force one to maintain perspective of just how blessed they are – and yet somehow it was this comment from Troy that allowed Gabriella that momentary reflection and realisation that she took her good fortune for granted.
She cleared her throat, glancing around at where the tables were beginning to fill in the coffee shop. "I guess we should..." she began to say, and gestured toward the door.
He nodded, feeling slightly disappointed, but smiled through his disappointment. "Oh right, of course."
They both gathered the jackets they'd slung onto the backs of their chairs, Gabriella also picking up her black purse which was on the floor. He stood back, politely allowing her to lead the way and they walked over to the exit, moving through to the reasonably moderate early New York evening. There was a brief moment of awkwardness as they stood outside the Starbucks on the sidewalk.
"Are you headed home now?" Troy enquired. She nodded and he gestured in the direction of their apartment buildings. "Shall we?"
In silent agreement they fell into step, walking at a moderate pace through the neighbourhood. Conversation continued and before they knew it, they were halted out the front of Gabriella's apartment building on the corner of Bedford and Grove.
"So um... this is me," Gabriella said.
"Gabriella?"
"Yeah?"
"I had a really, really awesome time," Troy said honestly. It had been truly refreshing for him, having coffee with a woman who wasn't Taylor or Sharpay without the blatant goal of winning her over with his charisma and getting her into bed. Despite the sexual attraction and chemistry, the nature of the afternoon had been purely platonic.
"So did I," Gabriella agreed, returning his smile. "As terrible as your financial problems are, I'm kinda glad your card declined."
He grinned. "What, you wouldn't have said anything if my card had gone through fine."
She shrugged. "I guess I would have said hello, but would you have stayed or gotten your drink to go?"
"Probably to go," he confessed – and suddenly was extremely appreciative of his monetary woes himself.
"So um..."
He knew what was coming, and in that split second he didn't want her to bid him farewell and say 'I'll see you around.' And so he blurted out the very first thing that came into his head.
"Your bed!"
A wide eyed and startled Gabriella was taken aback. "I beg your pardon?" She was a fraction away from being indignant and offended and about to launch into a tirade that just because they'd slept together once didn't give him the right to demand sex on a whim.
Troy's eyes widened, realising how she'd taken his outburst. "No!" he exclaimed. "I mean... if you're not doing anything tonight. Would you like me to help you to get that bed of yours put together?" Her expression softened, realising the meaning and that she'd misinterpreted. But then she hesitated, not agreeing immediately, and so Troy added, "I'd consider it my way of repaying you for the drink."
"I thought I was repaying you for the drinks you bought me a couple of months ago?" she said with a small smile.
He shook his head. "Seriously... I wouldn't mind at all." He wasn't going to say it aloud but at that moment he was thinking he'd do whatever handy work she needed if it meant more time within her presence.
She bit her lip. "I really hate asking people to do stuff like this for me, why do you think I haven't asked Chad already?"
"You're not asking, I'm offering," Troy pointed out.
Gabrielle would've said no to anyone else. But having Troy around was sounding like an appealing option, and she was willing to take the hit to her pride. "Oh... okay, what the hell," she agreed. "Do you need to go home to get anything?"
He shook his head. "It's a flat pack, right? It should have everything I need."
She nodded and went over to unlock the entry, standing back to allow Troy to step through. He led the way, almost as though he was afraid she'd back out or make an excuse to turn him away if he didn't hurry and get to work. She paused momentarily when Troy went straight to her floor and waited at her apartment door without any instruction from her, shaking her head slightly and reminding herself of the new information that this wouldn't be Troy's first time in her apartment.
"Since I'm not sure what my hostess skills were like when I was inebriated," she remarked dryly. "Kitchen – help yourself to anything -, dining area, lounge area, bathroom through there, and my room over there."
She quickly pointed out the different areas of her apartment. Troy smiled, not feeling the need to point out that she hadn't been much of a hostess but he'd found his way around pretty well anyway.
"Okay, let's get to work then," he said, rubbing his hands together. He headed toward her bedroom, smirking at the mattress on the floor that greeted her. Gabriella's eyes darted around, pleased that the room was in a relatively neat state with no dirty lingerie lying around.
"Firstly, we're gonna have to move the mattress to the side so we can set up the frame here, rather than setting it up and then having to move it," Troy instructed.
Gabriella blinked. She could triangulate in her head but such a principle hadn't occurred to her – so she knew immediately that it was a good thing that Troy was present.
~ * ~
They worked through for the next hour or so – or more accurately, Troy worked and Gabriella observed. She attempted to work with him but it became evident that it was far more efficient with Troy doing it and asking her if he needed anything. Slowly but surely, the large, long box of wooden slats and bits of metal came to form. Troy had been working slowly, the pair engaging in comfortable small talk as he'd worked. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't taking his time to purposely drag out the afternoon.
"Would you like a drink?" Gabriella offered.
"What do you have?" Troy asked.
She contemplated, visualising inside of her fridge. "Not a lot," she confessed. "Orange juice, ginger ale, chardonnay... water of course... oh and tea and coffee."
"Actually... I wouldn't mind a cup of tea," Troy requested.
Gabriella's eyebrows quirked. "You actually want a cup of tea?"
Troy nodded. "Why, is that a problem?"
"No I just... I don't think I've ever met a man who will voluntarily drink tea if it isn't with breakfast or later at night."
He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm not your average guy."
"That you most certainly aren't," Gabriella agreed.
"Plus, my great great grandfather was British," Troy added in explanation.
"That must be it," she laughed. "I'll just go make the drinks."
"You're just trying to get out of doing work," he teased.
"It's not like I'm doing anything anyway," she pointed out with a roll of the eyes. "I'm just handing you items."
"Which you're doing an awesome job with," he complimented teasingly with a wink.
She busied herself in the kitchen, surprising herself when she glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost 6pm, time to think about dinner for that night. While she waited for the kettle to boil she stole a quick glance through her pantry, fridge and freezer, gathering ideas.
"Do you want milk or sweetener?" she called toward the bedroom.
"A splash of milk and one teaspoon of sugar," Troy's voice wafted back.
She set about preparing his tea and her own half strength coffee – not wanting to be kept up all night – and then precariously picked up the small coffee mug and tea cup to carry through into her room.
"So, it looks to me like it's nearly finished and we could probably argue all night about who currently owes who but I was wondering if you'd be interested if I threw together a quick carbon-" Gabriella rounded the corner into her room – and promptly ran straight into Troy. Somehow she managed to avoid dropping either of the drinks, but half of the cup of tea rammed straight into him, spilling all down his front. "-Oh shit! Oh my God!"
"I so totally wasn't watching where I was-"
"I couldn't hear you and so I came to the door so I could-"
"But I should've warned you I was carrying-"
"I'm just having one of those days where everything goes wrong and-"
"I'm so sorry!" they both exclaimed simultaneously.
Troy took the mug of coffee which had remained intact and the empty teacup, setting them down upon the closest flat surface – a small ornamental table in the corner.
"Did it scald? Oh my God I hurt you!"
"No it didn't," Troy insisted, glancing down at his sopping shirt. "I'm just a bit wet, that's all. And... your carpet got a bit on it too."
She waved her hand away dismissively. "I don't care about my carpet. It's dark and I'm planning to get it recarpeted anyway. Your shirt is going to stain!" she said, pouting slightly. "Here, give it to me now and I can put something on it."
Troy wasn't shy and she was adamant so he wasn't about to object, quickly pulling the white t-shirt up and over his torso, handing the wet material to her. She couldn't help but take a moment to observe the surreally defined definition of his abdominals, pectorals and arms, even while in a relaxed state. He caught her momentary stare, smirking but not calling her on it.
"Right so I'll just go get this set with something. You can go into the bathroom and you'll find a hand towel under the sink so you can clean up."
She scurried into the kitchen, locating her laundry supplies that were in their own section under the kitchen sink and found the stain remover, quickly squirting it onto the affected areas and hoping she could salvage the shirt. She then went to the bathroom to check on Troy. If she'd been affected by the sight of his bare chest, somehow the sight of him holding onto a pink fuzzy hand towel dabbing at his abs was affecting her even more. She watched him for a moment in the mirror, his attention cast downward, and she cleared her throat. "Um... I guess you can take back that blue shirt," she said with a sheepish grin.
He laughed. "Maybe I'll just borrow it and make sure it gets returned to you."
She rolled her eyes. "Come on, I'll just grab it."
Troy followed her out of the bathroom and back into her bedroom where she went over to her bedside drawer. He caught a brief glimpse of an item of lacy lingerie before she reached back and grabbed the shirt, handing it over to him.
"I even washed it the other day," Gabriella offered with a smile. "Haven't worn it since."
"I bet you use some girly washing powder or softener," he remarked with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes. "Deal with it, or walk home shirtless."
"I do have my jacket, I could just do it up all the way," he pointed out.
The sound of knocking came from Gabriella's front door and she glanced around. "You get changed, I'll see who that is," she instructed.
A week earlier a knock at her door had her feeling wary, but the half naked deliciously attractive man in her apartment had her slightly frazzled and she didn't even look through the peek hole before undoing her door, glancing through the crack and spotting Chad and Taylor.
"Hey guys!" she exclaimed, undoing the chain and opening the door. "What brings you here?"
"Well we were just coming home and thought we'd..." Taylor was interrupted by a voice calling out from behind Gabriella.
"Hey Gabriella..." Gabriella spun around and a shirtless Troy was exiting from her bedroom, holding onto the blue shirt. "I think you... oh hey guys," he said casually, greeting a somewhat shocked looking Taylor and a smirking Chad. "I think you shrunk my shirt."
"Uh Troy... you're... here... and not wearing a shirt," Taylor observed, blinking.
Gabriella's eyes widened, realising how it looked. "This isn't how it looks! Oh my God! No!"
"I'm glad to know that what it looks like is an offensive idea to you," he commented.
"It isn't offensive!" she protested.
"It's not?" he asked teasingly.
Gabriella was now blushing furiously, three sets of bemused eyes on her. She decided to ignore his teasing and set the record straight. "I spilled tea on Troy and he was cleaning up. See!" she marched over to her sink and held up the shirt.
"And the shirt she gave me to wear has been shrunk in the dryer. And although I sometimes wear my shirts a bit tight, I don't like them to have a Lycra look."
"Oh great. So I have ruined two of your shirts after you've so graciously done manual labour for me for like two hours," Gabriella said bitterly. "Fantastic."
"Okay, the labour was in return for you buying my drink..."
"No, the drink was in return for you buying me a drink last time," Gabriella pointed out, rolling her eyes.
"That was just common courtesy."
Gabriella sighed. "Even if I accept that, the manual labour that you've been doing is far more valuable than a cup of coffee, and so too is the value of your shirts and..."
"You guys are so cute," Chad said with a smirk.
Gabriella and Troy both looked at him sharply. "Dude, why are you here?" Troy asked pointedly.
"Taylor and I were heading down the street to grab some dinner at one of the cafes and Taylor wanted to come and see if Gabriella was interested. I guess you can tag along too if you want," Chad said with a smirk.
Troy hesitated, the evidently empty bank account flashing in his brain. He was all for the idea of hanging with his friends and extending the time with Gabriella. But he didn't have some secret stash of savings somewhere.
"Um, you guys go without me," he said, unable to hide the disappointment in his tone. "I think I might have to find some two minute noodles in my pantry or something."
"Actually," Gabriella interjected. "Before I spilled your drink all over you, I was about to ask if you had other plans and if you wanted to stay for dinner?" she said, glancing at Troy. Suddenly she felt nervous about the suggestion and added in a hurry, "I got this carbonara sauce recipe that I wanted to try out and I never can be bothered to cook properly for just myself. So I'd love if you all stayed." She emphasised the all, glancing at Chad and Taylor. "If you want to of course. You don't have to."
"That sounds great! Way better than my two minute noodle plan," Troy said with a grin. "Except you do realise that if you cook dinner then you'll be back ahead again..."
"No, I'll only be barely making up for all of the destruction of your property," she reminded him.
He rolled his eyes. "That's bull shit and you know it, you're just trying to make me feel better about that fact that you totally saved me from embarrassment today."
Taylor leaned over and murmured in her husband's ear, "So carbonara sounds great but do you think they'll even notice that we're here?"
~ * ~
All three of the ex-Albuquerque residents wound up staying at Gabriella's apartment for dinner, her first dinner party being thrown, albeit impromptu. They were amused by her enthusiasm, as she'd brought out a table cloth and her 'good china' for the occasion. The pasta dish was fairly simple but cooking wasn't exactly Gabriella's forte and she was very proud when the recipe turned out well and was enjoyed by all. They shared a bottle of wine which Taylor had brought down from her apartment – along with a clean shirt of Chad's for Troy to change into.
The foursome had stood around chatting while Gabriella had cooked, and then sat around at the table for a while after finishing eating. They'd fallen into such easy conversation and camaraderie; it was hard to believe that Gabriella was new to the group or that she had only known them for a little while. There didn't even seem to be any sort of residual awkwardness between Troy and Gabriella, which was surprising to Chad and Taylor. In fact unbeknown to Troy and Gabriella, the married couple had shared with one another the conversations they'd had with their respective gendered friend. Chad had been insistent that Troy seemed to have interest in Gabriella but Taylor had been sceptical as to whether his interest was genuine or sexually driven. However being around the pair together had given her a new perspective on the matter, a brand new perspective. She'd practically dragged her husband out the door, bidding Troy and Gabriella farewell and leaving them alone once again.
"Um... I guess I should get going," Troy said awkwardly.
He didn't want to leave, but it was inevitable. She nodded and walked him out, not only to her front door but all the way downstairs to the front of the building. They stood in the lobby, looking at the other one.
"So um... if you're not doing anything tomorrow night... it'd be cool if you came to watch the show," Troy said casually. "I'm gonna hang out for a bit after we play."
Gabriella nodded. "Um... maybe. I might have some marking to do," she said, her tone equally casual.
"Like I said, if you're not doing anything. It's not like we're that good, we haven't even come up with a new name," he said, rolling his eyes.
"You guys are amazing," she said sincerely, giving him an encouraging smile. "Don't ever doubt that. I mean, I only have seen you once but... that was enough to know that your band, and especially you, are truly talented."
He ducked his head bashfully, lips curving into a smile. "Thanks."
"And I will try to make it," Gabriella added. "We managed to get through today without it being weird so..."
"I'd say it was the opposite of weird myself," Troy put forward, smiling genuinely. "Possibly even fun."
"Um... so if I don't make it tomorrow night..." she said hesitantly. "Until we meet again."
He paused. When she'd left his apartment two months ago, he'd sent her away, insisting they didn't do the phone number exchange. Somehow a cup of coffee and a casual dinner had changed everything. He wasn't ready to take her number, he wasn't ready to promise he'd call. But the idea of her not coming the following night and it being left up to fate when and where they met again... that terrified him.
"I'm on Facebook," he blurted out.
"Pardon?"
"If you don't make it... I'm on Facebook. I go online daily, I'm sort of in charge of maintaining our bands MySpace... so... I'm around the internet. If you don't make it, that's cool... but uh... you can drop me a line. If you want."
Please do.
~ * ~
"How about we just make our name Presently Untitled?" Drew suggested, as the band were gathered back of house, about fifteen minutes before show time.
"That's dumb," Troy said, rolling his eyes.
"Let's just leave it as Little Black Book. Who cares that there's some other random band out there with the same name?" Andy put forth.
"I care! We need our own unique image if we're taking this seriously," Troy said adamantly.
"Are we though?" Drew asked, eyebrows raised. "Like... we're kinda at different places when it comes to that."
It was the unspoken element that threatened the very being of their band. Andy and Troy were a whole lot more serious about the band than Steve and Drew.
"Let's leave it for now, since we're about to go on," Steve said.
Drew's cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to check a text message. He grinned and went over to the door way, disappearing out into the bar for a moment. It was routine for him – he'd receive a preshow text from his girlfriend who wanted to wish him luck in the form of a sloppy public kiss, making it known that the lead singer of the band was hers and the other women should back off. He returned a couple of minutes later, wiping pink lipstick from his lips.
"Hey Troy, I'm not sure if my memory is playing tricks on me but you might wanna come check this out," Drew said.
Troy's eyebrows furrowed and he set down his guitar before making his way to the back of house door. Drew gestured through and said lowly, "With your buddy Chad and the others. Red sweater, black jeans, hot ass..."
Troy felt his throat tighten, a smile filling his lips. She'd actually come to the show. He knew that she was being sociable and had become friends with Taylor and Chad and likely was there because it was a decent bar with a good vibe. But he couldn't help but feel smug at the prospect that even just a little bit of her reason for being there was for him – because he'd asked her to come.
"Why don't you go say hi?" Andy suggested. "We've got a few minutes."
Troy hesitated. "Oh um... I... I don't know."
Drew picked up his water bottle and 'accidentally' tossed it into the trash. "Troy, do me a favour and go out and grab me another bottle of water from the bar?"
Troy rolled his eyes, but now that the eyes of all his band mates were on him, if he didn't go they'd label him as a pussy and a wimp; and so he was left with little choice. And so wordlessly, he pushed open the door, headed to the bar where he requested a couple of bottles of water, and then took a detour on his way back via the table toward the back. It was a little quieter than usual that night and his friends had actually succeeded in obtaining a few stools which each of the girls were perched upon, leaving Zeke and Chad standing at the tall table.
"Hey guys, just thought I'd say hi," Troy greeted them casually.
"Hey man, you never come out before the show," Chad commented, clapping his friend on his back in greeting.
Troy gestured to the water bottles he had, one tucked under his left arm and the other clutched in his left hand. "I was grabbing these. Literally just saying hi." His right hand grazed on Gabriella's back, smiling down at her. "You came."
His statement was calm and somewhat aloof, but the up curving of his lips betrayed his cool exterior.
She inhaled at the sensation of his warm palm resting momentarily over her thin red sweater. She took a small breath, nodded, and responded with a teasing, "Yeah well, there was nothing good on TV tonight so I figured why not."
He grinned and leaned in a little closer, "Well I hope we can live up to that seemingly low standard."
She giggled. "I have faith in you."
With one final squeeze of her arm, Troy waved farewell to his friends and made his way back to the band, politely nodding at the girls who waved and greeted him as he navigated through the crowd. He tossed one of the water bottles to Drew, and pulled off the cap of the other one for himself. He took a long swig of the cool, refreshing liquid and turned to his band mates.
"Let's do this."
* * *
Gabriella was clutching onto her glass of lemonade, staring at the stage, willing the band to come on.
"So, Gabriella," Sharpay said.
"Mmm?" a distracted Gabriella replied.
"Are you going to stay after the show to flirt with Troy?"
This got Gabriella's attention, and she turned abruptly to face Sharpay. The other three were hiding smiles at the blonde's candidness.
"I may stay to socialise," Gabriella said emphatically. "In a general sense. Not to flirt with anyone."
"Well I hate to burst your bubble, but that was exactly what you were doing a few minutes ago when Troy was out here."
"I did no such thing! What did I say that you deem as flirtatious?" Gabriella demanded.
"It's not what you say so much as how you say it – plus the flirty giggle as well."
Gabriella was about to respond when a shriek from one of the girls up the front indicated that the band was coming out and was about to begin performing. Her attention snapped forward, physically turning her chair so that she was directly facing the stage. She and Troy had talked about the bands repertoire the day before, he'd even asked her opinion about some combinations of songs for their set list. She was more than happy when the highly recognisable opening chords of Santana's Smooth were played – it was one of her favourite songs. However they'd avoided mentioning the song which was played second in the set list. It was a song also with a distinguishing guitar riff, a song which had caused Gabriella's pulse to race a little each time it had come onto her iPod or iTunes over the last two months.
"Back by popular demand... for the first time in almost two months..." Drew announced, speaking over the top of the opening chords.
"You know there's a dirty word, never gonna say it first, no it's just a thought that never crosses my mind..."
It didn't matter that they'd slept together, it didn't matter that she'd had sex with him on the floor of his apartment, it didn't matter that he'd evidently seen her so drunk that she couldn't even remember his presence. None of it mattered.
All that was relevant in that moment was the way that he was staring at her, his cerulean gaze penetrating straight into her chocolate eyes. There was no doubt that she was fixation of his stare. There was a part of her which knew it was a stage presence; that the intensity of the song required such a concentrated presence; that perhaps he preferred to direct it toward her, someone who should be aware of his intentions – or perhaps, lack of intentions. But then, there was the red-blooded woman, the woman who had experienced earth shattering sex with this man and had been craving a repeat performance ever since. The woman who had then had coffee with him, and spent a whole day in his presence, laughing and joking and taking in a way that only people with some sort of a connection and chemistry can communicate. Whether she liked it or not, her libido was reacting to him – and it was pulling at her heart strings, too.
* * *
To Gabriella's dismay, he didn't appear during the interval. He did have some drinks brought over on the house by the bartender. Gabriella raised her eyebrows at the red fizzy looking drink with cherries and was about to tell the waiter to take it back when he said, "It's a Shirley Temple. No alcohol. Troy said that he'd noticed you were drinking lemonade."
Gabriella blushed slightly. He'd noticed. They'd spoken for less than two minutes and he'd noticed.
She wished this didn't matter to her.
But it did.
* * *
Two months ago Troy had been like an Energiser Bunny on speed, practically throwing items of expensive music equipment into the back of the van. That night was a repeat performance. From song number 2 in the set, ideas had been brewing in his head. Maybe it hadn't been such a bright idea to do a repeat performance of that song, a song which in the past he'd practiced and simply enjoyed the raw energy but now it translated into feelings on a whole different level. He was feeling rather conflicted, because twenty four hours earlier he'd been contemplating actually taking her phone number and arranging some sort of 'official' date and now he wanted to throw her against the closest flat surface and bury his cock within her wet chamber.
He could have sat and questioned the conflicting thoughts, but that wasn't Troy's style. He wasn't going to question, or overanalyse, or contemplate. He felt a pull toward her, a simple need to be in her presence, and he decided to act upon that pull. The moment that his band mates told him that he was being useless and would break their shit and he should just 'go get her' – he bolted. He stopped via a mirror, quickly checking his appearance – partially out of vanity and partially insecurity – and then paused by the wooden door that separated the peace and serenity of back stage from the throngs of bar patrons. He took a deep breath, and then opened the door.
He spotted her straight away. She was sitting cross legged on the stool, holding onto the stem of one of the maraschino cherries which had garnished the Shirley Temple, and had the delicate fruit in her lips, nibbling at it and sucking at it as she listened intently to whatever story it appeared that Zeke was telling. Simultaneously the group broke into laughter – when Gabriella laughed, she lit up the room, her eyes and lips brightening, her nose scrunching, her shiny ebony tresses swinging backwards and forwards. His eyes were devouring every morsel of her body from afar, her tight form fitting red sweater clung to her curves; the way her skinny black jeans showed off the shapeliness of her backside and legs.
The simple need was stronger than ever.
He didn't acknowledge his fans as he took the most direct route to reach her. He barely acknowledged his other friends, giving them the slightest of nods. They weren't oblivious to the chemistry and they were more than familiar with the look of intent on Troy's face. He slid in beside her, an arm snaking around her waist as he leaned over. She froze as his warm breath began to tickle beside her ear.
"Dance with me?" he requested.
She looked at him momentarily, face expressionless. She then nodded, agreeing mutely. She picked up her drink, took a final sip and then took Troy's outstretched hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. He found an available nook of space in the back corner of the room. Like any dance, they started out a safe distance apart, the chemistry being communicated through lustful gazes and momentary grazes of the hand.
You captivate me something 'bout you has got me
I was lonely now you make me feel alive.
The distance dissipated, their previous encounter serving to break down the barriers of shyness. Normally it would take Gabriella at least a few drinks to feel this comfortable with a man, this comfortable to less loose in public and to allow the rhythm of the music to pulsate so freely through her limbs. He had an ability to set her at ease, to make her body feel as though it didn't need to hold back from doing as it pleased. Her body sought a lack of distance, it sought the sensation of his hard body pressed up firmly against hers.
My heart is racing as you move in closer
You take me higher with every breath I take
The bottom hem of her sweater was riding up as she turned to face away from him, her backside performing a tantalisingly erotic dance against his hardness. His hands rested upon the silky smooth skin of her taut waist, fingers dancing over her bare skin, desperate to inch higher but possessing enough common sense to hold back.
I want you, I want you, I want you to show me love...
The song came to a close and the DJ moved onto a slightly slower track, couplings in the dance floor altering as groups of girls took the song as a chance to grab a drink or use the bathroom, and girlfriends dragged their lovers out for a slow dance. Somehow the change in the pace of the music triggered something in Gabriella – a change in mood, a change in perspective, being shaken and brought back to reality. She shot Troy a dazzling smile, squeezed him by the arm, and headed back to their friends.
Burgeoning erection throbbing in his pants, his eyes widened, watching as she moved away with a saunter to her step. He stood motionless among the throng of dancers, staring as she went back over to Taylor and the others. He shook his head slightly before darting after her, grabbing onto her arm just as she'd slipped on her coat and shrugged the strap of her purse over her right shoulder.
"Gabriella!" he blurted out, eyes a little wild.
She calmly turned around to face him. Her expression was at first still, but it softened a little at the confusion on his face.
"Thank you for the drink earlier, and for the dance. It was fun."
"It was fun?" Troy repeated questioningly, shaking his head slightly. "After what you and I have been through, that's what you have to say to me? That it was fun?"
"After what we've been through?" she said, eyebrows quirked. "Troy... we've met each other three times – well, four supposedly, not that I have any recollection of that fourth time. You are the one who was insistent about 'this'," she made quotation marks with her right hand and gestured backwards and forwards between them, "being a one night thing. You are the one who didn't want my phone number."
"What happened to 'it's always yes?'" he asked a little numbly.
She shook her head, smiling sadly. "The girl who said that was living in the moment. Today... today I care more about going with my head and protecting my heart."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, not understanding her logic.
"It means..." she paused, let out a sigh, and then stood on her tiptoes and leaned forward, her lips grazing softly against his cheek before murmuring into his ear, "It means good night."
And with that, she left.
~ * ~
It's just a thought that never crosses my mind
Nickelback – S.E.X.
~ * ~ * ~
Disclaimer: Take Me On The Floor attributed to the Veronicas; the inspiration to use the song credited to Jill-Renay.