"Of course! Who wouldn't? If he wants to. He complemented me on my um... skills so I reckon I'm in with a chance."

Ugh.

The first girl laughs. "Sure. Nate Campbell doesn't see the same girl twice."

The ground lurches. Nate. Last night. The girls continue their conversation, but I don't want to hear anymore. Ten minutes ago, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d looked me in the eyes and told me I was special. That he'd sworn off other girls. Nate Campbell, the man known for s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g everything in a skirt, who claimed he doesn't want to f.u.c.k me.

The day after doing exactly that with the girl in front of me.

Why? What the h.e.l.l is his motive? I can guess. I'm one big, uptight challenge.

I spend the next few minutes fighting heart-pounding fury. I fell for his smooth, sweet behaviour, exactly like I did Shaun's.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

When I finish in the bathroom, I step back into the throng of people and work my way along the hallway, rehearsing my words.

Nate stands alone at the doorway to the lounge bar, resting against the wall, arms crossed. One of the girls from the bathrooms is talking to him, but he's not paying attention. As I march over his eyes widen and he shifts his gaze to one side, away from my face.

Yeah, well good luck in avoiding this, d.i.c.khead. "Nate."

He mutters 'f.u.c.k' under his breath then looks up warily. "I can't talk to you."

"Well, I have plenty to say to you!"

He holds his hands up. "Seriously, um... Fleur. I can't talk to you. Not now."

"Busy are we?" I snap and incline my head to the girls.

"Yes. No. s.h.i.t. Please. I'll call you later."

"I wouldn't answer, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

The girls pull amused faces at each other and step to one side. Nate attempts to follow and I grab his jacket sleeve.

"What the f.u.c.k are you playing at?" I snarl.

He doesn't reply, continuing to look around the hallway. I push him in the chest. "Don't you dare ignore me!"

"Jesus," he mutters. "Where the f.u.c.k are you?"

"Who?"

"Nothing. Listen. Please. I'll talk to you later."

Pulling myself full height, I fix him with an icy glare. "Don't bother. All that bulls.h.i.t about not touching other girls and then kissing me and "

"What the f.u.c.k?" he interrupts. "I thought you didn't like me? What's he doing kissing you?"

I blink at his slip into third person, and a sense of relief comes over Nate's face as he spots somebody behind.

"Thank f.u.c.k for that. Will! Get your a.r.s.e over here!"

Will stands several feet away, jostled by pa.s.sers-by, spilling the beer and orange juice he's holding. Shock smacks his face and he clearly mouths "f.u.c.k" before approaching.

"Oh, man. You're a f.u.c.king idiot," says Nate.

"What have you said?" asks Will, also refusing to look at me.

"Exactly what you told me to. Nothing. But I think your time's up."

Will? How? I stare at him, at the drinks he's holding and the t-shirt he's wearing. Beer. Orange juice. Ruby Riot. Then I look back at the other guy, whose identical jacket is open over a loose black shirt.

No. f.u.c.king. Way.

"OhmiG.o.d..." I manage to breathe out and point at the twin with the drinks. "Are you...? Have you...?"

He closes his eyes and the other twin looks at him fighting a despairing smile.

"Have you...? Are you...?" I blink. "Which one of you kissed me?"

"Will," says the guy in the black shirt.

"He's Nate," I reply.

"No, I'm Nate. He's in trouble." Nate smirks then claps his brother on the back. "Later, man."

The drinks spill at the action; Will sets them on a nearby table and rubs his damp hands on his t-shirt.

The anger from before pales in comparison to the red crossing my vision now. "How long?"

"How long what?" he says in a low voice.

"How long have you been pretending you're Nate?"

"I can explain. That's why I asked "

"Oh my f.u.c.king G.o.d!" I shriek, and several bystanders tune into what's happening.

"Fleur, I'm sorry. Listen."

"I'm not doing this!" I throw my hands up in despair. "I'm not having you or him humiliate me in public for a third time!" I glance at the gla.s.ses. I've no idea what grips me but I pick up Will's gla.s.s of beer and chuck the contents in his face. "Your turn to be laughed at!"

Shaking, I slam the gla.s.s back on the table and stride to the entrance, tears blurring my eyes. The building leads out to a paved area where groups congregate, meeting up before they go inside, and I push my way outside.

My head spins with realisation over the sick joke I've been pulled into. Part of me wants to sit on the low wall and break down in tears; but the stronger part pushes anger into my system, swarming wasp-like and ready to unleash on Nate if he follows me. Or Will. Or whoever the h.e.l.l he is.

"Fleur." He doesn't shout my name, but approaches quietly from behind, catching up the way he tried the last time he p.i.s.sed me off. Hands in jacket pockets and head dipped, the twin walks alongside me while I pretend he isn't there. "Fleur."

"Leave me alone."

"I need to talk to you. Explain."

Ignored.

"Please. I don't want you to hate me."

I stop and whoever he is almost b.u.mps into me as I do. "Why would I hate you? You only humiliated me for a third time," I spit the words, curling my mouth. "What did I ever do to you both to deserve this?"

We've reached the edge of the union square, heading into the dimmer part of campus, but I can make out the upset in his face. "I understand you'd be p.i.s.sed off with me but "

"p.i.s.sed off doesn't even begin to cut it," I say through clenched teeth. "Go away, Nate."

"Will," he says and squeezes his eyes closed. "s.h.i.t. I'm so f.u.c.king sorry."

I cross my arms. "Which was the funniest part for you? Swapping from person to person to see if I'd notice? Challenging each other to see who could f.u.c.k the prissy Fleur Roberts first?"

Will recoils. "No! I was always me. I mean, I was always the same person. Nate was never involved. Apart from the one time in the Union. And backstage. Nate was the one who p.i.s.sed you off that time by saying s.h.i.t about wanting to f.u.c.k you."

"And that makes things better, does it?" I snap. When Will attempts to take my hand, I s.n.a.t.c.h it away. "What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?"

"I should've told you before. I've tried to for weeks, but..." He drags a hand through his hair. "I'm a coward. And we were becoming close; I didn't know what to do to stop myself ruining this."

"Ruining it?" I lower my voice as a nearby group looks over. "Ruining what? The game?"

"No! s.h.i.t, Fleur. Let me explain."

"Nothing you could say would make a difference." I bury my shaking hands into my pockets. "I was b.l.o.o.d.y stupid to ever trust you."

I storm away, and he wisely doesn't follow. My stomach churns each time an image of the amused faces of the crowd in the Union crosses my mind. Will drew me into liking him to the point of kissing him and I'm left with a hole as more of my self-respect is torn away by yet another guy's betrayal.

Why does every man I come across treat me like this? What's wrong with me that I attract this kind of guy? Where's the sticker on my head that says 'naive and desperate for attention'. Am I? I'm not.

By the time I reach home and walk into the empty house, I give in to the hurt. My bedroom is my safe place, my solace against the world. This latest betrayal is too much. Of the three men recently in my life, I'd thought he was the most sincere.

I trusted him.

More than that, when Nate kissed me, I believed his words how, even though we're different, parts of us underneath are the same. I thought he'd reached across and shown me I was special, but I was one big f.u.c.king joke to Nate.

Nate?

Will.

22.

FLEUR.

n.o.body knows about Will and me. About how I kissed the rock star who'd wormed his way into my life with his gentleness and humour.

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d who lied.

I want to confide in Anne what happened with Will; but when the incident misses public scrutiny, and n.o.body who was around mentions what's happened, there's no need. This sickens me further, as if the twins play this game regularly so n.o.body cares. Fortunately, the band disappears off campus as the alb.u.m launches and I don't have a daily, stomach-lurching reminder of my stupidity. With no twins in seminars and lecture theatres, this helps ease the pain and embarra.s.sment.

The last two academic years have been straightforward. Predictable. Study hard, good grades, and plan the future. A couple of romantic entanglements, but like most things in my life, I was holding out for best, not second best. This year, less than two months into term, I've dated and been screwed around by three guys. I've almost failed papers. My head and heart are a mess thanks to a guy who would never have been on my radar.

Time to pull back.

Anne soon learns not to mention Nate's name around me.

Head down and sworn off men for the foreseeable future, I concentrate on what should be taking my energy: achieving the best grades.

23.

WILL.

Two days after Fleur discovers the truth, Ruby Riot's debut alb.u.m, Magnetic, launches with the amount of hype and excitement we hoped for and life shifts gear. A couple of London magazine interviews, a spot playing on The Monday Show, and plans to head to Europe next month are scheduled for the band. No more studying for a few weeks. I question the point in returning to study at all, if we're back on this path, but I'm still determined to do both. We don't have a tour booked until next summer anyway.

I'm stressed about the s.h.i.t that happened with Fleur. The band is where my focus needs shifting, but I can't pull the Fleur situation under control in my mind. At first, I think the issue is guilt, which isn't a usual emotion. I've lost count of the number of girls I screwed earlier this year, but since I started l.u.s.ting after Fleur, n.o.body. No, this guilt is the replay in my mind of the hurt and tears on the face of the girl who meant more to me than she realises. More than I realised, until now.

That kiss. I fought against myself but self-control isn't my thing either. Kissing Fleur before I told her who I really was has inflamed the situation. I gave fuel to Fleur's accusation I've played a game with her. No way. When we kissed and the hidden need pa.s.sed between us, something else did too. I walked away on a dizzy high, aching for Fleur to look at me in the same way again as if I mattered and she wanted me. I held onto Fleur's hand, and held onto the delusion that when I told Fleur the truth she'd forgive me. I counted on Fleur sharing the longing that swept us close, how the kiss united us, and that this connection would be enough for her to give me a chance.

Sure. f.u.c.kwit.

I left the confession too late. If we'd arrived before Nate, or chosen to go somewhere different to the Union, the s.h.i.tstorm would never have happened. If Fleur was as high on our kiss as I was, she might've somehow found a way to forgive me. My planned explanation may've been enough.

Not now.

But I'm not giving up on her. Not yet.

The band meet at Jem and Ruby's place for a band meeting before we head out onto the press junket. Their house lies in the Hampshire countryside, behind security gates. The converted farmhouse is a far cry from the London house Jem lived in when we first met him, but so is his life.

On the drive over Jax is quiet, while me and Nate chat excitedly about the next few weeks. We're launching our new single on The Monday Show, BBC prime time. If that's not making it big, I don't know what is. Then we have a couple of gigs local to London, before a break and more promo in Europe. Discussions over heading to the States too are ongoing. This is undecided due to Ruby's baby situation, and a bone of contention to Jax. Jax's taciturn att.i.tude reflects this; f.u.c.k knows what mood he'll be in if Ruby says no again today. At least the occasion switches me off the s.h.i.t happening with Fleur.