6.

FLEUR.

I'm in two cla.s.ses with Nate. Before today, I was aware but not interested. Weirdly, he spends a lot of time avoiding looking at me. Sure, Nate has an interested girl next to him who he focuses his attention on; but I swear when our eyes meet, he looks away.

Arrogant idiot.

Until the night at the party, Jax had the reputation for being the ego of the band. Rumour has it a girl pulled him into line. Have the other free agents of the band now stepped up to his mark?

I head across campus to grab some lunch before my next cla.s.s and catch up on missed texts as I walk. I'm not a social b.u.t.terfly, but I have a close circle of friends. At high school, I was invisible amongst my fashionable peers. Here, I fit. I have a social life and people I can have a meaningful conversation with. Does that make me sound pretentious? Maybe, but following years of feeling out of place because I'm academic, I finally fit. These days, I walk the line between smart, nerdy girl in the background, and a friendly person who is as happy at parties as she is with her books. I'm comfortable in my own skin.

My one issue: I don't want anybody getting under that skin. Unless the guy matches my intellect, I have no interest. I'm looking for a guy who sees past s.e.xual attraction and understands I'm as likely to be turned on by smart conversation as a set of hard abs. Not that I'd complain if both came along.

So far, my only viable candidate is Ethan.

"Fleur!"

I stop, recognising the voice, and wait as the guy opposite to the man I just pictured appears by my side. Nate gives me a half-smile and I absentmindedly wonder what kissing a guy with a lip piercing is like. Unpleasant, probably. "Yes?"

"Can I ask you a favour?"

"What?"

Nate pulls a crumpled A4 sheet of paper from his rucksack. "I need help."

I'm about to retort I can't, but the tall guy's face holds a childish confusion, which warms me to him. "With what?"

"I want to pa.s.s. My parents think I'm gonna fail. They think I'm a joke."

His random sharing of a vulnerability arrests me and I stare back. "Why would they think that?"

He shrugs. "I want to prove to them the band can make it big. We will. But I need to prove to them I can do this too."

"You're serious about your degree?"

"If I fail at this, they'll expect me to fail at everything."

"Does your brother feel the same?"

Nate rubs his face. "He's better at this s.h.i.t. You'd think identical twins would share identical brains too."

"Maybe they developed differently."

I continue walking and Nate joins my pace. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not clued up on the nature/nurture thing, but Will plays a different instrument. Maybe studies more. The brain isn't a static thing that grows the same as your legs."

"Right." He chews on the side of his mouth. "Yeah."

I sigh. "What do you need help with, Nate? Won't it wait until the group on Thursday?"

"Could do, but I want to catch up with some of this first. Can you give me some pointers on what I missed last semester? The s.h.i.t I really need to know? I'm behind from sc.r.a.ping through because I slacked off last year. I can't go through the whole f.u.c.king lot again and it would help if somebody highlights the important parts."

Jesus, the guy is giving me puppy dog eyes. Is he serious? "Let's grab a coffee and we'll talk about this."

The student union has a different vibe in the daytime. I avoid the bar and head to the cafe area with brightly painted blue and red walls beneath a Perspex roof. The place is half-filled with groups chatting and laughing, or ignoring each other to focus on their phones. I don't miss the curious looks because a member of Ruby Riot is with me. I order and Nate pays for the coffee before we place ourselves at a table in a darker corner.

His concerned frown continues as he smooths the paper on the metal table, catching the corners in spilt coffee. I sip from my cup, and enjoy my daily indulgence of decent coffee instead of the instant I drink at home.

"Is that your timetable?" I ask. Who carries timetables on paper? Mine's on my phone.

"Yeah."

I study the smudged print. "You have European History 2. That's tough unless you pa.s.sed 1. Did you?"

He runs a hand through his short, dark hair and I'm momentarily dragged into an attraction coming from the hint of vulnerability blurring his rough edges. "Yeah. Just. Fifty-one percent."

I pull a face. "I take it you didn't work too hard on that one?"

"Nope."

"You need to recap it all." I push the sheet back to him.

Nate groans. "s.h.i.t. I knew you'd say that." The pleading eyes turn to mine again. "Can you help? You could show me exactly what I need to do. The study group isn't enough to get on top of this."

"The library and internet are your friends."

"And you're not?"

I blink as he fixes his gaze on me. "Not really."

"Because of Will?"

"No, because we don't know each other."

"We can fix that." The smile he gives confuses me, to the same degree, as Nate appears confused by European history. There's nothing flirtatious here, no slow sardonic smile like the one he gave the other day. Does he genuinely want to be my friend, or is he clever at manipulating girls into doing what he wants?

I'm betting it's the latter.

"Okay, come to the study room at 5.30 on Thursday. You can have half hour of my time before the rest of the group arrives." The smile grows. "But you have to bring me an outline of what you need to recap. And a coffee."

The smile pulls into lopsided amus.e.m.e.nt. "Yes, miss."

"Are you taking the p.i.s.s?"

"No. I'm honoured you want to help me."

Now, I'm convinced he's taking the p.i.s.s.

7.

WILL.

Fleur helps me out. In fact, I've managed to persuade her to meet me one on one, once a week in addition to the study session. She's funny, naturally bossy, and sets me tasks and pulls me into line if I slack off. The lack of teachers breathing down my neck led to my dismal academic career once I hit uni. I was pushed to study during my A levels and without that guidance, I gravitated away from lecture theatres and towards the Student Union.

The decision to come to London and choosing UCL was based more on being in the right place for pushing the band, but we didn't tell our parents that.

Over the next couple of weeks, the late nights and partying continue and I grumble when I have to take Nate's 8.30 a.m. cla.s.s while he lazes in bed.

Due to meet Fleur, and as I've not completed some of the tasks she's set me, I head to the library and pull out a textbook. I broke the day up with a visit to a local pub for a couple of beers with Nate, before begrudgingly heading to the library to spend an hour studying before meeting Fleur at six. The words blur as my tired brain attempts to process the information and I give up. Resting my head on the book, I close my eyes and drift into my Fleur fantasies.

Following two years of increasingly p.o.r.nographic daydreams, of obsessing about her naked, and what I could do with her naked, beautiful body, facing her as a real person is weird. Closer to her than ever, the obsession grows. The more time I spend with her, the more I like the real Fleur, not only the one in my perverted imagination. And the more I kick myself that she thinks I'm Nate.

Not like Will has a chance.

Fleur's out of reach; and I'm wasting my time, if I think I can win her over with my rock star wiles. So, I sink into recent images of the time she leaned over me, t.i.ts way to close to my face for my d.i.c.k's comfort.

"You won't learn by osmosis, Nate."

I turn my head and look up, the voice joining my fantasy. Fleur's lips are pursed and she shakes her head at me. Is she wearing make-up? She doesn't often. Maybe I'm wrong; Fleur likes me, and she is making some kind of effort before our one-on-one. Her lips shine with the pink, making them more inviting than ever. The t.i.ts I was fantasising about swell against her white shirt and I look away before I'm caught paying too much attention. The last thing I need is her p.i.s.sed off with me.

"I'm tired," I say.

"Late night?"

"Yeah. Rehearsing." I sit up and run a hand through my hair. "Are you ready to start early? Were you looking for me?"

Her mouth twitches. "No. You'll have to wait."

"Cool, I'll go back to sleep then." Annoyed at her rejection, I put my head back down, using my arms as a pillow.

"See you at six."

"Uh huh."

Fleur's footsteps retreat and I debate whether to leave for another drink before meeting her. If I stay here and fall asleep, I'm unlikely to wake up again in a hurry and might miss our session.

Stuffing my book into my bag, I prepare to leave and catch sight of Fleur close by, talking to a guy. Tall, good-looking guy with no piercings, or tattoos on his bare arms. A guy she's giving a huge smile to, using body language girls have used around me hundreds of times.

Jealousy spikes for a moment then I firmly push it away. Dude, you need to remember you're a rock star not a teen boy with a crush.

FLEUR.

Nate's guarded tonight, preoccupied by something, arms crossed firmly over his chest. By the time he picks his phone up to answer a message for the third time, I slam the laptop lid closed.

"Do you want to do this or not?" I ask.

"Waiting for an important message." Nate doesn't look up.

"What about?"

He sets his phone down. "Stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah."

I frown at him. "What's wrong with you tonight?"

"Frustrated."

"About?"

Nate scrutinises my face, and something in his eyes triggers my alert system. He's looking at me in an intense way that raises the hairs on the back of my neck. Nate knows not to bother with his smoulder around me, but is it unintentionally there?

"Lots of things." He pauses and I'm unable to respond shocked by the possibility this guy could be interested in me. "Uni, mostly."

"I don't understand why Ruby Riot isn't your job now. I know you said you have to choose uni or work, but didn't you tour with Blue Phoenix? Record an alb.u.m?"

"Yeah, all quiet for now. When the alb.u.m releases, things'll change. That's partly what's frustrating. We've some promo organised, and a few gigs and I feel like I'm in limbo."

"Doesn't seem much point you being at uni if half the time you won't be."

"Nah. Band stuff is mostly weekends. I can still spend time with my favourite study buddy."

"And pa.s.s an a.s.signment for a change?"

He grins. "That too. Thanks for the help with the last one."