No, you're not seeing things, its really me. I wanted to update this story a few weeks back but I decided to write solidly instead and get a few chapters under my belt so there won't be huge gaps between updates anymore. The crazy thing is, I have the middle and ending for this already written because that was what came to me first. I just have to get there haha!
As always, a colossal thank you to anyone still reading my work. They're apparently making Green Street 2.0 so hopefully these boards will get busier in the coming months with people rediscovering the world of Pete Dunham because...I've been reading/writing it since 2005 and I'm STILL hooked. If you have the time to leave a review, it's appreciated more than you know.
Love always, El x
Three months later
"Perfect,"
Pete Dunham glanced up from where he was doing his best to navigate the boxes strewn about his living room, his jaw going slack along with his entire body, almost causing him to drop the arm full of beers he was balancing.
"Fuck off," he laughed. "Mate, you've got two minutes before the boys get here and if you want to keep your kneecaps, you'll take that down and burn it."
"You don't like it?" Benjamin Ellis grinned, gesturing to the Chelsea scarf he'd draped over the West Ham crest painting on Pete's wall. "I think it's lovely. Y'know, brings a bit of character to the place,"
"Not a second goes by that I don't regret offering you to move in," Pete shook his head. "I hope you know that,"
"Ah, fuck off," the Scotsman puckered his lips in the blonde's direction, earning himself another laugh. "You love me,"
Pat had moved out at the beginning of the summer, a few weeks after Michael had been sent down for Nancy's murder. Pete had felt a sickening guilt when his uncle sat him down and informed him but, as Pat had emphatically pointed out, love his nephew as he did, there was no way he was going to spend the next three years living with a university student. Not if he wanted to keep what little sanity he had left, he'd told him with an honest grin.
Pat had to move on, or at least start trying to. He'd moved in with Moira and Steve, his reasoning being that Moira needed the support with the house but truth be told, Pete knew it had more to do with keeping Steve in check when it came to the GSE.
Subconsciously glancing down at the faint bruising on his knuckles from last weeks' match, he snorted. No one had a hope in hell of keeping Steve Dunham in check – not even Pat. Since their father had gone down, Steve had been adamant that the reputation of the GSE needed restoring. Every firm in London knew about Michael Dunham losing his marbles and trying to kill his brother. And so, the battle to get back on top had begun, taking no prisoners.
Pete had never uttered a word about what had happened with Tommy Hatcher all those weeks before at the river, content to bury and ignore it as the ramblings of a madman. But his words had stayed in the back of his mind, the torture made worse by the fact Tommy had gone radio silent ever since. Maybe his threats had been empty. Maybe this whole mess really would go away on its own, allowing Pete to live a normal student life and have the firm running alongside.
Maybe.
"Aye, aye!"
Pete shook his head, trying to physically snap himself out of his rapidly darkening thoughts as Swill's voice boomed through the flat, the lads filing into the living room behind him, all of them falling silent as they looked at Benjamin, still grinning like an idiot as he gestured grandly to his creation.
"Ladies," he winked.
"Can I kill him?" Swill stared at Pete wide eyed.
"Too easy," Dave shook his head. "My vote's for castration,"
"Any excuse to get your hands down my pants, eh?" Benjamin grinned, dutifully pulling the scarf down and gesturing towards Pete. "It was his idea anyway. Something about switching sides,"
"I meant sexual preferences," the blonde deadpanned. "The Mrs is getting a bit boring,"
"Oh, fuckin' hell," Bovver grimaced while the others simply laughed heartily.
"Come on, you tarts," Pete dropped the beers he was holding onto the coffee table and pulled an opener from his pocket. "It's 3pm and I don't know about you lot, but I'm far too sober."
"Now you're talking," Dave breathed, reaching for a beer and flopping down onto one of the huge armchairs as he took a long sip. "Mate, count your lucky fuckin' stars you've got this place. Halls are a nightmare."
"I thought you were with Swill and Ike?" Pete frowned.
"Exactly," Dave nodded, his eyes wide. "Fuckin' nightmare,"
Laughing as Swill tried to sit down on his lap, Dave sent him stumbling forward with a swift kick and catching Pete's eye, subtly jerked his head towards Bovver who was sat on the arm of the sofa, staring intently at his phone.
They had known this weekend would be a difficult one; everyone was moving onto campus, Benjamin had moved into the flat with Pete and Bovver was uncharacteristically quiet. Truth be told, Pete had offered the spot in the flat to Bovver before he'd asked Benjamin. But the answer had been the same as Pat's, just with a little more venom to it.
"I ain't livin' with a fucking student for the next three years,"
Nodding in understanding, Pete sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat, catching his friends' attention whilst the others argued over take out menus.
"'ere, Bov," Pete cleared his throat. "Given you're the adult of the group with an actual job, I make that shots on you for the night."
"The bloke who's bagged a Sloaner with a Porsche wants me to buy him drinks to celebrate his first day at big boy school?" Bovver snorted. "Fuck off."
Pete winced; he'd meant it as a joke but there was a distinct lack of humour in the response. Swallowing hard, he fought to keep his temper in check. He knew how hard Bovver was finding this and that he hadn't meant it but it was getting harder and harder to avoid the constant jabs.
"Anyway, I ain't the only one with a job," Bovver smirked. "Your brothers on his way, you can ask him,"
Pete choked on the sip of beer he'd just taken and shook his head, staring at his friend as though he were mad.
"You've invited Steve to Fresher's night?" he wheezed.
"And Terry," Bovver nodded.
Pete sent him a hard stare, knowing full well what he was doing. Love his brother as he did, Pete knew with Steve and Terry here, there'd be trouble. Gone were the days of just getting pissed down the pub and stumbling home with a dirty burger. No, now every time Steve Dunham set foot in the outside world, it meant chaos.
"You might wanna run that by me next time," Pete met his eyes dead on and he saw a flicker of what looked nervousness.
"Run it by you or run it by Allie?" he countered, knowing full well he was pushing Pete's buttons. "Wouldn't want to make the wrong impression on her new mates and upset the upper crust, would we?"
"What the fuck is your pro-" Pete stood up from his seat a little too quickly and was interrupted by Benjamin suddenly appearing in front of him, smiling manically.
"Aye, aye, Petey Pie," he kept his voice low enough for only Pete to hear. "I know he's being a cunt but this is our night. Our rite of passage. If he's got too much of a stick up his arse, leave him to it."
Pete's eyes flickered between him and Bovver, the anger coursing through his veins easing slightly when Benjamin wrapped the Chelsea scarf around his neck and winked at him.
"He did have a point about your lady though," he grinned. "Snakebite my arse, I'm ordering nothing but Bollinger,"
"Fuck off, you twat," Pete laughed, lightly slapping his face and grimacing at his glanced down at the scarf on his chest. "And get this off me before my skin starts burning,"
Turning to face Swill, Ike and Dave, he grinned, determined to take Benjamin's advice and ignore his best friend completely.
"Right lads, I reckon we take these beers on the road and go get ourselves two Chelsea birds," he winked.
"'ere, Allie was mentioning she's in all-girls hall," Dave rubbed his hands together. "You reckon that means she can get us in there with some of 'er roommates?"
"Or at the very least, let us 'ave a ganders through the window when they're having pillow fights in their underwear?" Swill grinned stupidly.
"You know she's at UCL and not working on the set of an 80's porno, right?" Pete laughed, seeing the distress in his friends' face.
"Oh, as if you weren't thinking it!" Swill shot back.
"Thinking it?" Pete raised an eyebrow. "Mate, I'd be fuckin' recording it in HD. Now come on,"
He shoved him gently towards the door, clinking his beer bottle against Dave's and giving him a wink as he did so. They made their way towards the door, stopping only when they noted Bovver was still sat on the sofa.
"You comin' or what?" Pete asked him, frowning when for the first time in 16 years of friendship, he found himself hoping Bovver would say no.
"I'll stay and wait for Steve." Bovver replied bluntly.
Pete shook his head lightly, trying to work out what exactly his angle was here. Steve and Bovver had butted heads more often than not when they were growing up. In fact, Pete could remember his brother telling him more than once that Stuart Boverington was dead weight.
"Fuck me, you gonna run him a bath and give him some hot milk n'all?" Pete looked at him as though he was mad. "He's a big boy, Bov. Drop him a text and tell him to meet us at the bar."
Bovver gritted his teeth, determined to keep his temper in check. He'd known Allie was full of shit when she'd told him nothing would change. Christ, Pete hadn't even taken a class yet and he was already acting like a different person.
"I'll wait," he reiterated with a shrug, leaning forward and snatching the TV remote.
"Fine," Pete snorted, turning back to the lads and slinging his arm around Dave's shoulders as they bundled out into the hall, making the divide between them and their friend that little bit more real.
"OH MY GOD, I LOVE YOUR HAIR!"
Pete winced at the high-pitched squealing as he meandered his way through the oak corridor, his eyes scanning the ramble of girls desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of Allie or Lara.
Glancing into one of the rooms on his left, he cringed when a girl in her underwear shrieked at him, running over and slamming her door shut.
"Perv!" her muffled shout echoed through the door.
"Sorry!" he called back, picking up his pace and feeling a blush creep up his neck. This was the seventh circle of hell; he was sure of it.
"I'd heard there was a peeping Tom on this floor,"
He grinned, turning and seeing Allie's head poking out from behind her door, a full-blown grin on her face as she took in the sight of her boyfriend standing awkwardly in the fray of women.
"My money was on Swill,"
Pete laughed making his way over to her and winking, the same surge of adrenaline he always got from seeing her coursing through his veins.
"He doesn't have the stealth," he grinned back.
"Hmmm, well if you came here for a show," Allie smirked wickedly. "You're in luck,"
With that, she pulled the door open a little farther so that only Pete could see in. Her stomach clenched, a smugness sweeping through her when she saw his jaw go slack and his fists clench by his sides.
"Holy fuck," Pete whispered, his eyes unable to settle on one stop as he took in the dark blue lingerie she was wearing. His heart pounded almost painfully in his chest and he let out a long breath, his hand coming up to rest on the doorframe.
"What do you think?" she raised an eyebrow at him.
"I think…." Pete shook his head. "I think you should let me in before I get us both done for public indecency."
"Oh really?" Allie grinned, wondering if she'd ever get tired of teasing him like this. "What exactly did you have in mind?"
Pete licked his lips and smirked at her, knowing full well what her game was. But fuck, if he wasn't happy to play along.
"I'm tryna be a gentleman here," he laughed. "But you are making it fuc-"
He stopped mid-sentence, wincing when a sharp whistling sounded through the hall and a hand tapped him on the shoulder.
Turning, he met the eyes of a tall, skinny, brunette, her face creased with fury as she glared at him.
"This is an all-female dormitory," she told him, her voice clipped and cold.
"Right," Pete nodded, feeling oddly intimidated by her. "Well, lucky for you, I'm not moving in. I'm just visiting my girlfr-"
"You're a man," the brunette waved her hand dismissively. "Your presence here is inappropriate, not to mention a violation that carries a fine,"
"A fine?" Pete laughed, scratching the back of his head and wondering if he could move quick enough to dive into Allie's room before Miss Trunchbull had time to blow her whistle again. "For visiting my girlfriend?"
"That's right," the girl grinned smugly. "Every night you spend here carries a £25 fine."
"£25 per night?" Pete cringed, looking at Allie who was trying her best not to giggle. He could still see her body at this angle, the smooth, soft looking skin calling to him. The lace clinging tightly to her hips and breasts. She met his eyes and licked her lips. That was all he needed.
"If that's the case," he bit his lip in concentration, digging in his pocket and producing his bank card with a grin, dropping it into the confused brunette's hand. "Better run a tab."
She opened her mouth to shout at him as he pushed through into Allie's room and slammed the door behind them, silencing her giggle as he picked her up and crashed his mouth down onto hers.
"Are you crazy?" she laughed against his lips as he walked her towards the wall and pinned her there, his blue eyes turning almost jet black as he drank her in.
"As a fuckin' loon," Pete smirked, pulling on her hair gently so he could run his tongue up her throat.
"I thought we were meeting the boys," Allie moaned quietly as his hands swept up her back, deftly locating the clasp of her bra.
"For £25, they can fuckin' wait," he mumbled as she began giggling again, silenced only when he kissed her deeply, flinging her bra over his shoulder and dropping to his knees, pulling her underwear down achingly slowly and causing her chest to tighten. He kissed her thighs, his hands moving over her at a maddening pace until his mouth reached the spot that caused her to lose any and all control.
"Oh, fuck!" Allie cried, her body rapidly turning to jelly as he continued to torture her with his tongue.
"Let's just hope they don't have a policy on noise complaints, too," Pete smirked against her thigh. "I might have to get a second job,"
Pulling away from her, he stood and laughed when she immediately yanked him back to her body, practically ripping his shirt off and making quick work of his jeans. Their lips met again and again and Pete picked her up once more, falling onto her bed and not caring when the boxes she had piled on it spilled onto the floor.
This was the life he wanted. The life he never thought he could have. So, he was going to make the most of every second. And if that meant leaving Bovver behind…then maybe…maybe that was a choice he'd have to make.
So, there's a war brewing. A big one. Don't say I didn't warn you...