I pale. “I don’t need to hear this from you. And I’m not sleeping with her, alright?”
“Then be patient with her. Stacey will be ready when she’s ready.”
I stop. “She’s the one being patient with me.”
Mum stares at me for a second, and then her lips part. “Oh.”
Yeah. Oh.
Everyone’s assumption that I sleep around is starting to piss me off. As if I’m not getting annoyed at myself for being a skittish prick when around her, I need to deal with my friends, and now my mother, thinking I’m fucking Stacey.
Wait.
“How do you know? Dad told you?”
She starts to walk away. “Your dad tells me everything. Now go. I’ll see you when you get home.”
Torrential rain pours as I drive away from the manor and out the gates, picking up speed when I reach the motorway. She hasn’t replied to my message yet, so I send another while I drive, asking if she’s home.
“Hi, you’re through to Stacey. Leave a message.”
I hang up and drive faster.
I head straight to the studio and get there within half an hour. The doors are locked, and I contemplate kicking them in to see if she’s inside.
I call again. No answer.
She might be asleep inside.
I knock on the door – three hard thumps. “Stacey? Are you in there?”
Nothing.
I go back to the car and light a cigarette, debating whether to ask Luciella for Stacey’s address so I can make sure she isn’t still walking home.
My heart feels weird. It’s the reaction I used to get as a kid, thinking one of my parents would catch me out on a lie or give me into trouble when I did something wrong. That uncertainty that something bad is coming.
I know what butterflies feel like, but this is different. I feel sick, as if I could throw open the car door and bring up my guts.
I’m dizzy, and I realise I’m breathing fast and hard.
What’s wrong with me?
I get out of the car again, the rain drenching me as I stand staring at the studio building. The coldness helps whatever’s ripping me to shreds inside, but I still have the twisting feeling in my stomach.
I walk down the side of the building, checking the other doors and windows, sighing in relief when one opens. I slip in. It closes behind me, and I’m surrounded by darkness. The LEDs are always on, so when I see a pink glow under one of the doors in the corridor, I head for it.
Stacey isn’t here. The place is empty and smells of pine – as it always does when she’s cleaned up after herself. Poles and hoops crowd me, crash mats piled on the right, a full wall of mirrors to the left.
I find the folder full of everyone’s details and scan for Stacey’s name .
Five minutes later and nothing. How many students do they have?
I open the file of employee details. Jackpot.
Stacey Rhodes. Teaching qualifications and training in pole fitness, pole dance, erotic dance, aerial hoop, disco dance, kids dance, contemporary dance, silks and fire dance.
Damn. My girl is talented.
I leave the studio as soon as I find her address.
Stacey lives on a fancy estate. Her house is big, with three floors, white bricks and security gates. All the lights are out except for one at the top right. The curtains are closed, but I can see the shadow of someone moving around.
I finish my smoke and flick it out the window, debating what to say. An apology obviously. An explanation. And, hopefully, she forgives me and tells me to come in.
I’ll kiss her and go back to sleep in her bed. Then we’ll be good.
So why are my hands shaking so badly?
I buzz the gate, wait a few minutes, and when no one grants me access, I climb the wall. I’m not giving a shit if I set off alarms. I need to see her.
Nothing happens though, so her family definitely needs to sack their security team.
I walk around the small fountain at the front steps and knock on the door. Once. Twice. A third time for good measure.
My heart races to an unbearable pace, and I shove my hands in my pockets to stop them from trembling when I hear the door unlocking.
A man with a grey beard pulls it open. “Can I help you?”
Rain drips down my face. “Is Stacey here? ”
“Who are you?” he asks, wary. He looks as if I just broke into his house and asked to kidnap his daughter. “How did you get in?”
I shrug. “I climbed the wall. Is Stacey here?”
“You…” He chokes, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Who the hell are you?”
Before I can glare and tell him to watch his fucking tone, a soft voice stops me.
“Dad, it’s okay.”
A small hand rests on his shoulder, and the door opens wider. My lungs fill when Stacey comes into view in her PJs.
“He’s a friend.”
I think the fuck not. Instead of showing any hint of how that one word burns me, I keep my hands in my pockets and wait for her dad to fuck off.
Stacey waits until he’s out of earshot then turns to me. “Why are—”
“I fell asleep,” I cut in, taking a careful step towards her. “I didn’t mean to. Are you alright? Did you have to walk? Did you get an Uber?”
“My dad came for me. You didn’t need to come all the way over here.” Then she frowns. “How did you know where I lived?”
I broke into the studio and violated your privacy, then climbed the wall when the gate wouldn’t open.
“I’m resourceful.”
“Oh…” She taps the door, chewing her lip. “You need to go.”
My insides drop. “Why? I’m sorry. I wanted to come and see you. I really did.”
She looks behind her, then her eyes are on me again. “I’ll see you later, okay? Thanks for bringing my phone.”
I frown. “Eh? ”
She gives me a tight smile as she closes the door, and I momentarily freeze.
I knew I’d fuck this up.
I rub my hand through my hair then grab my phone and type another apology out as I leave. The gate opens for me, and I slip into my car.
My heart is beating so hard.
Before I can drive off, the door swings open, and green eyes look at me. “Hi.”
I stare at her as she sits. “Hi.”
“My phone died – that’s why I couldn’t text back. You really didn’t need to drive away over here. My dad is kind of on edge all the time and isn’t a fan of boys near the house.” She clips her belt in. “Not that I have boys over. He’s just… overbearing sometimes.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I thought you might have walked home. I wanted to catch you.”
“At eight in the morning?”
I shrug. “Are you… good with me?”
“Of course.”
I’m confused. I blink at her.
She sighs. “You scared my dad. He was caught off guard. He’s usually really nice.”
“So you aren’t mad at me?”
“Of course not. I thought I overstepped. Can you drive somewhere?”
I start the engine. “You didn’t overstep. You could ask me to drive you to fucking Australia and I’d find a way to do it. Where do you want to go? Luciella is still in Stranraer.”
“Anywhere. I can’t stay out for long. ”