-3-
The entrance to Spook’s apartment lay tucked away down a side street.Discreet.Easily miss-able.Alle wondered how many Black Halo fans walked by it every day and failed to realise they were outside his front door.A private staircase led up to the first floor.Spook opened the door and motioned her inside ahead of him.
Alle wasn’t certain what she’d been expecting.The reality was him, but also slightly impersonal, in a show-home sort of way.The walls were white throughout, and all the floors were rich, dark-stained oak.The kitchen and lounge were combined in one free-flowing, open plan area, with the main bedroom tucked off to one side, and a smaller guest room full of amps and guitars on the opposite side of the entrance hall to where they came in.
Spook had pulled an assortment of ingredients out of the fridge by the time she’d shed her jacket and poked her nose around.He looked quietly confident at the chopping board with his hair tied back in a ponytail, and a deal more relaxed then when they’d first met that morning.Curiously, her stomach remained full of butterflies.There was so much she still didn’t know, about him, about his history, and the incident with Marshall.
Spook opened the fridge and pulled out a wine bottle, which he waggled at her, enticing her forward.This was their opportunity to cover that ground, she supposed.It was the first time they’d been properly alone, no band mates just a room away, no reporters or road crew lurking, no random passers-by.Only her and him.
There were no chairs or stools close by, so Alle leaned against the far side of the island.
“Can we talk about what you were arrested for in the past?”she asked.It had been chewing at her thoughts since that morning.
Spook set a wine glass in front of her and poured.“I thought you wanted to eat.”
“I do.Is it so gruesome it’s going to upset my stomach?”
He huffed at her attempt at humour.“More like it’ll upset mine.It’s a story reserved only for when I’m very, very drunk.”
Right, and how often was that?Probably not very.He wasn’t exactly good at cutting loose.Also, he hadn’t even poured himself a glass of wine, though he’d given her what looked like half the bottle.Alle rectified that, finding him a glass and pouring him some.
“Save some for the sauce,” he insisted, reclaiming the bottle by the neck.Their hands brushed as he did so, and a spark zapped between them.
“Spook—I-I don’t know where we’re at.”
“The same place we were before.”
“Truly?”
He leaned over the countertop and kissed her.His soft lips brushing firm against hers.Alle groaned, because this man knew exactly how to unravel her.He left her straining forwards, still balanced on her toes eager for more, as he returned to his cooking.
“Exactly the same place.”
But they weren’t.Not really.Some of the trust and closeness they’d found had disappeared.She said nothing to that effect, but instead watched as he tossed various ingredients into the sizzling pan.
“If that didn’t already look and smell so good, I swear I’d be up for skipping dinner.”
“Would you now?”He waggled a spatula at her.“Did nobody ever tell you that you only get dessert if you eat up all of your main?”He gave her a sly glance.Was that an insinuation that he might be dessert?
Alle circled around the island, so that she was right beside him.Spook turned down the heat, then faced her.“What?”
“What, yourself.”
He lifted her and set her down upon the granite countertop, so that he was standing between her knees.
Alle stroked the stray hairs surrounding his face.“I’m afraid the bruises have all faded.I’m sorry you didn’t get to appreciate them.”
A flash of blue magic streaked his irises, while a gasp parted his lips.“Alle.”
She was about to say something, but he silenced her with the press of his fingertips.
“That was…” He blinked.“We shouldn’t have.”
“Don’t be absurd, Spook.I’ve been getting off to that memory for the last week.”Heat filled her cheeks at the admission, but she held his gaze.The last week had been a minefield of emotions.She’d swung back and forth over so many possibilities, and her feelings had gone through so many permutations she’d been reeling most of the time.“That is, when I wasn’t worrying that it’d be our last time together.I didn’t know how you’d respond to the whole Marshall debacle.Whether you’d still want me around, knowing that he probably won’t stop.That I’ve a brother who’s an absolute knob-end.”
“I worried you wouldn’t want me having lashed out.”Spook rubbed the tip of his nose against hers.“Anyway, I told you before.You’re not your brother.I don’t hold his actions against you, and I daresay he’s going to dig regardless of whether we’re dating.He seems the type.”
“He is.He won’t give a fig about the cost.He obviously doesn’t give a fig about me.Who the hell writes a column about their sister?”
