AN INTRODUCTION TO STARSTRUCK

  Some people will tell you they have fairies at the bottom of their garden…

Mia and Becca have little aliens at the bottom of theirs!

 Once upon a time in London…

Ok, maybe not. Once upon a right here, right now might be more appropriate. Our fairytale is very much of the technological age, but still contains all the elements from the tales of a bygone time.

We’ve written the Starstruck series as a contemporary fairytale with a kick... and strictly for adults only! Those of you who read me will know I like the unexpected. Starstruck sure fits that description!

Mia and Becca’s fraught and emotional love story is blended with a big dose of adventure and fast-paced action, most of it brought about by six little people who come from a place far, far away…

What we now call fairytales were originally written a very long time ago, in dark ages when things we now look upon as shocking were considered perfectly acceptable. In more recent times, the tales were sanitized and watered down to make them suitable for children, the original scripts far too gruesome and horrific to be told to youngsters.

But full of blood and gore and sexual depravity as they were, they were penned to send a message. The innocent girl treated badly, the beautiful queen banished from her lands, evil ogres who never thought twice about committing heinous acts, wolves in sheep’s clothing, handsome princes who expected nothing less than to own the fairest in the land...

Sound familiar? Of course, many of our favourite stories are modern versions of very old tales. But with Starstruck, We’ve tried to do something a little more outside the box, and bring these traditional elements into a modern, urban setting. We’ve avoided the blood and gore, but most of the other fairytale elements are there.

‘Somewhere to Call Home’ is the first episode of the Starstruck series.

Each episode can be read as a stand-alone book, but they are chronological, telling the story of Mia, Becca, and the six little people who changed their lives forever. So to get the full ‘Starstruck’ experience, it’s perhaps best to read them in order!

The Prequel is available too. ‘Time to Say Goodbye’ is a shorter novella, and goes back to tell the tragic story of why the Voyagers had to leave their home, and how they only just escaped with their lives.

Chapter 1

Five Years Ago

 She almost didn’t go. The red dress that showed every tiny contour, and possessed a side-split exposing far too much upper thigh, had been shoehorned on five minutes ago. And shoehorned off four minutes ago.

Wearing anything underneath it was a no-no. She might as well have grabbed a marker pen and sketched the outline of her panties onto the dress. So three minutes ago they came off too, and two minutes ago the dress was cling-filming her skin for the second time.

One minute ago she threw the red horror onto the bed in disgust, and slumped down next to it, shaking her head in faux dismay. The dress that mocked underwear and had a much-too-risky design had just given her the perfect excuse.

Mia had nothing to wear.

Still trying to decide if she should feel frustration at forking out an extortionate amount for a dress she’d never wear, or manic relief that she now had a get-out-of-jail-free card, a gentle tap on the door wrenched her back to the there-and-then.

‘Who is it?’

‘Who the heck do you think?’

‘Jamie? What happened to texting thirty minutes before you got here?’

He didn’t seem to want to reply to that. She threw the offending panties back on and opened the door. He looked her almost-nakedness up and down, and then let out the stupid but infectious grin she’d come to love so much.

‘All ready then, I see,’ he said, stepping into the dorm room and closing the door.

‘What?’

‘Will confess sweetie, I never thought the minimalist look would be your thing.’

‘Funny guy. Unlike you, I see.’

The grin never faded. He gave her a twirl, followed by a curtsey. ‘You like?’

‘Let me find my sunglasses, and I’ll let you know.’

His long jacket was sparkly pink. Very sparkly. It seemed to give off its own light, blinding everything around it. Underneath the glow Mia could just about make out electric-blue pants, set low on the hip and quite possibly sprayed on. Pink boot-style trainers matched the jacket perfectly, just without the glow. The white t-shirt was Lady Gaga. His already-blonde hair had been dyed a couple of shades blonder, and spiked upwards like golden stalagmites.

He was the gayest man she’d ever known. And the best friend a girl could possibly have.

‘I can’t go. I’ve nothing to wear.’

Still his grin didn’t fade, even when he somehow managed to let out a tut-tut sound. He walked over to the bed. ‘And now you have the answer to your question.’

‘What question?’

‘Why I didn’t text. If I had you’d have had time to wimp out.’

‘Crafty bitch. But your plan didn’t work. I’m not going.’

‘Darling...’ He lifted up the devil-dress. ‘So we spent six hours choosing this, and all for nothing. I can feel tears welling up...’

‘It wasn’t six hours, so quit with the drama queen crap. More like six minutes... it was the first one we saw.’

‘It would have been six hours if I’d had my way. Better put it on quick though, hun... taxi won’t wait forever.’

‘Are you listening to me?’

‘Not really. I’m too upset. All the blood, sweat and tears for nothing...’

‘Jamie! Your non-existent blood sweat and tears ended up choosing a dress that even shows up the pimple on my left butt cheek. And I can’t exactly go commando with that insane side-split.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’

‘Huh?’

‘Well, not the butt pimple bit... which I doubt exists... but when you tried it on I could see every little contour, if you get my drift.’

‘So why did you let me buy it then?’

‘Because unlike you, I cover every eventuality. Literally, if I may say,’

‘Now you’ve lost me.’

‘Darl...’ He reached into his jacket pocket. ‘I’ve not been your best friend... well, your only friend... for two years without discovering the manic paranoia you have for social interaction, which would lead you to desperately seek the slightest excuse to avoid tonight. So here, put this on.’

He handed her the tiniest g-string she’d ever seen. ‘Seriously? It... it doesn’t even exist.’

He grinned. ‘It’s designed for dresses like yours. See... just enough to cover your lady-bits, and the strap is super-thin and has no seams, so it’s invisible.’

‘It’ll snap when I bend over.’

‘Oh please... just put it on. For me?’

‘You are a bitch.’

‘Sure I am. A bitch who knows you too well. Two minutes, Cinders, and you shall go to the ball.’

Chapter 2

Mia groaned to herself as the taxi drew up outside the biggest, loudest nightclub in Cambridge. Of all the places they could have chosen for the end-of-year bash, Sparks represented everything she perceived as hell on Earth.

The thousand or so people milling around outside weren’t helping. In reality it was only thirty, but as her panic levels flew off the scale it might as well have been a million.

Every one of them was more beautiful, confident and sexy than she was.

She groaned to herself, so she thought. Maybe a tiny petrified sound had inadvertently slipped out, or perhaps Jamie really did know her too well, but he looked at her in a sympathetic kind of way and wrapped a hand around hers.

‘You ready for this, Cinders?’

‘No.’

‘Course you are. Look at you... Cinderella in the killer dress, ready for the kiss from the prince to bring you back to life.’

‘You’re mixing your fairy tales, Jamie.’

‘Sweetie, I am a fairy tale. And right now so are you. Kinda wishing I swung both ways.’

‘No you’re not.’

He grinned. ‘Maybe not. But if I did...’

The grin worked its magic. Mia let out a giggle, and slapped his electric-blue thigh. ‘Sometimes I think you’re my prince charming anyway.’

He puckered his lips. ‘Fair enough, if you insist. But no tongues, ok?’

She giggled again, and reached for the clutch bag on the seat next to her. ‘Guess I’d better step through the gates of hell while I’ve got a smile on my face.’

‘Bout time. Chomping at the bit here, sweetie. Let’s go find you a sexy hunk... and maybe me too.’

‘Jamie? What about Tom?’

He let out a Hollywood-style sigh. ‘He’s so... annoyingly boring.’

‘But he’s lovely.’

‘Darl... lovely can only tickle your fancy for so long. Imagine being me two days ago... he took me to Nando’s wearing white socks and a dark grey jacket!’

‘Horror.’

‘I know.’ His eyes glazed over, staring into nothing as he recalled the incredibly painful experience. Until his brain tuned into the sarcasm. ‘Guess I’m whinging to the wrong person about that particular tragedy.’

‘Guess you are. But clothes don’t maketh the man, Jamie.’

‘Seriously? Oh my dear, have you got a lot to learn. But you see, the grey jacket was a sign from above. A sign of a grey man. A very grey man... in every way, if you understand me.’

‘Ok, enough information. We going to hell or what?’

He leapt out of the cab like his electric pants were giving him electric shocks. ‘And there’s me thinking I’d have to wrench you out of that cab kicking and screaming.’

 She slipped an arm into his as they crossed the road. ‘That I’d like to see. Jamie the dominatrix.’

He paused, raised his eyes to the clear starry sky of a July evening. ‘Hmm... maybe corporate finance isn’t the best career choice after all. Got me thinking now.’

‘You’re terrible. And talking of thinking, don’t even think about sneaky matchmaking schemes tonight, ok? I’m here under duress, so if some nerdy creep asks me for a dance and I see your stupid grinning face in the background, I will have my retribution. Do you understand me?’

‘Oh dear,’ he sighed as they joined the back of the queue. ‘Poor Cinders, twenty years old and never been kissed. Someone’s got to take charge of your non-existent libido, darling.’

‘You have been warned. Third strike and it’s the ball clamps.’

Hell was every bit as hellish as Mia envisaged. The huge space was a pounding mess of strobe lights and thumping sound that seemed to jangle every synapse to pulp. This time it really felt like a thousand people were filling every bit of available space.

Every one of them seemed happy to be there.

Standing as close as she could get to the far wall, a Malibu cocktail in one hand and the white knuckles of the other gripping the clutch bag like her life depended on it, she almost felt overdressed. The long cling-film dress consisted of far more fabric than most girls were wearing, but then again, displaying most of the gorgeous bits they owned didn’t seem to bother them too much.

A wave of unexpected sadness wafted through her. Jamie truly did care, making sure she’d chosen something that covered up most of her, knowing if he’d tried to get her into something more revealing she’d never have gone at all.

And he was making the hell just about bearable. Watching him performing made her smile, most of the time. He was in Jamie heaven, and wringing every drop out of it. In fairness he was hard to miss, the strobes bouncing off the pink jacket as he gyrated around the dance floor, doing a very good impression of a disco ball.

Twice he grabbed her, and dragged her out into the open like the dominatrix he was becoming, forcing her to dance with him, and now and again pointing and shouting in her ear, ‘What about him?’

Thankfully the threat of ball clamps seemed to have worked. They’d been there two hours, it was just gone midnight, and he’d actually asked what she thought each time he’d spotted a potential suitor.

He didn’t really need to work so hard. The dress was having the undesired effect. She’d lost count of the number of times a guy had asked her to dance. And each time she’d searched for Jamie’s grinning face, but it was nowhere to be seen.

If the guys who’d approached her had been persuaded to do it by her best friend, she couldn’t tell. Even so, she said no to every one of them.

It didn’t help that she couldn’t quite work out why anyone would want to dance with her.

A few of the girls she’d come to know on her course came and said hi. They all seemed to be with someone, looked a little surprised she was actually there, and soon drifted away. She spent much of the time people-watching, when she wasn’t Jamie-watching. Almost everyone she recognised from uni was there, making the most of finally being able to let out the pent-up stress at the end of the academic year.

Becca was there too. Of course she was. The girl everyone wanted to be seen with, she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to make sure through the long summer recess they didn’t forget who was the queen of Cambridge.

She looked stunning, without even appearing to try. She always looked stunning. They’d never spoken a single word to each other in the two years on campus, and yet somehow Mia knew exactly who she was.

Some girls just seem to have that effect.

She watched her on the dance floor. A tiny black dress that couldn’t have been any tinier, or any simpler, hugged her perfect shape. Her black hair, cut into a shoulder bob, looked even shinier than it did in the days she’d spotted her on campus. She’d done nothing different to it for the night. She didn’t need to.

Dark brown eyes smouldered sexiness and confidence to anyone brave enough to look into them. Simple, elegant silver rings adorned three of the fingers on each hand. Everything about her was understated, and yet somehow combined to make the most powerful statement in the room.

Mia watched, mesmerized, as she danced in the centre of the floor, surrounded by her girlfriends like the lead singer in a world-famous girl band. She was beautiful, elegant, moving with an easy grace as understated as the rest of her, drawing in the gazes of those who watched, unable to look away.

Like a dark angel she flowed in perfect sync with the music, always unhurried, one step blending with the next in seamless perfection, her slender arms drifting through the pulsing air like raven’s wings, tracing circles and spirals like she was creating a priceless work of art.

Finally Mia looked away, a stab of envy piercing through her heart. She didn’t want to be the girl everyone adored, but for a reason she couldn’t explain, right then she wished she was.

She fought her way to the bar, and bought another Malibu. The fourth. Hardly a big drinker, she sank it quickly, and then grabbed the fifth. The incessant beat, the constantly flashing lights and the alcohol were having an effect, and as she headed back to the far wall things got a little spinny.

Thankfully there was a bit of vacant wall to lean against, so she went back to people-watching, sipping the drink a little slower this time. She caught herself smiling, and tried to wipe it away but it didn’t seem to want to go.

Maybe hell wasn’t so bad after all.

Ten minutes later Jamie bounced up, still looking as fresh as a daisy. He wasn’t alone. She’d noticed him dancing with the guy a little earlier, and it was looking like he’d found his replacement for grey Tom.

‘Hey, hun,’ he grinned. ‘Been looking for you. Say hello to the sexiest man in the place... next to me of course.’

The guy held out a slender hand. ‘Hi, I’m Toby.’ She took it, and looked him over. Tall and very slender, his long honey-blonde hair was tied back in a simple ponytail. A white jacket covered a plain black t-shirt, hanging loose over black shorts. His trainers were pink. Just not as pink as Jamie’s.

‘You guys running in the Race for Life?’ she grinned.

‘Funny girl.’ Jamie stuck his face close to hers, grinned the cheeky grin as he looked her over. ‘You’re actually pissed!’ he exclaimed, like it was the shock of the century.

‘Maybe a little.’

‘Wow... go you. Hell not so bad after all then, sweetie?’

‘When in Rome...’

‘Good girl. Listen...’ he glanced to Toby, looking like he was reluctant to say what Mia knew he was about to. She cut short his awkwardness.

‘Go on... I’m a big girl now.’

‘You sure?’

‘What, that I’m a big girl, or that you can fuck off and leave me on my own?’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Ooh, such language from one so young.’

‘You’re walking a thin line, buddy. I still have those ball clamps remember.’

The grin got even broader. ‘Don’t suppose I could...’

‘No. Just get lost and enjoy yourself. I’m going soon anyway.’

He looked eternally grateful. ‘You’re a star, darl. Just don’t stay until chucking-out time, or you’ll wait hours for a taxi, ok?’

‘Yes, mum. Now get lost.’

He kissed her on the cheek, slipped a hand into Toby’s, and they were gone.

She leant back against the wall again. The smile was still there, kept in place by the fact Jamie looked so happy. She made a mental note to read him the riot act tomorrow, and make sure he didn’t keep Tom hanging if Toby turned into something more permanent.

Grey Tom might be grey on Jamie’s colour chart, but he was still a nice guy.

She glanced at her watch. Just gone two. She should make a move, take Jamie’s advice and find a taxi while there were still some to find. But then she saw Becca back on the dance floor, and decided to watch her moves for a few minutes before calling time.

Mia Haines twenty safe, organised years hadn’t exactly been full of life-changing decisions. But although she didn’t know it right then, she’d just made one.

And her well-organised life had been equally devoid of life-changing moments too. But that was about to end. The carefully-planned teenage years had so far passed exactly as predicted, exactly as she’d planned. But on the day she was waving goodbye to university life, she was about to say hello to the unpredictability of destiny.

From now on, the life-changing moments she’d tried so hard to avoid would come thick and fast.

And the first of them was just about to happen.

Chapter 3

Through slightly-blurry eyes she watched Becca as she danced again. Something was different. The perfectly-blended steps were gone, the expressive arms stabbing the air like the angry spears of a Zulu army. Maybe the drink was taking its toll on her.

Her friends were there, but somehow they didn’t look so happy, keeping more of a distance. Then two of them left the floor, and disappeared into the crowd. Becca watched them go, thrusting angry fingers into the air as they left.

The DJ switched it down, the thumping beat replaced with softer, slower tunes as the night drew closer to its end. Becca took her cue, marched up to one of her remaining friends, and pulled their bodies tight. Wrapping a hand around the back of her head, she thrust their lips together.

It didn’t go down too well. The girl struggled away, screamed something angrily, stabbed an accusing finger at Becca, and left the floor in tears. For a moment Becca stood there, her mouth hanging open as she sucked in deep breaths, looking shocked that she’d actually been rejected.

And then a stupidly-brave guy made the worst possible move.

He came up behind her, taking her by surprise. His hands slid around her hips, tightening around the tops of her thighs, his fingers dangerously close to her triangle as he forced her back into him and tried to kiss her neck.

His bravado fuelled by too much alcohol, his judgement was just as impaired. It was the worst ever moment to get up close and personal to Becca.

She spun round, and blazed streaks of angry fire into his hopeful eyes. And then she slapped him. Really, really hard. So hard he staggered back, rubbing a hand against his crimson cheek.

And then he retaliated. The full force of a vicious hand he couldn’t control smacked into the side of Becca’s head, knocking her to the floor. For a minute no one moved. Becca tried to sit up, but the blow had dazed her. The guy just stood there, shaken by the violence the drink had made ten times worse.

Until two big bouncers arrived, and dragged him away. Someone knelt down next to Becca, and helped her sit up. It wasn’t one of her friends, they were nowhere  to be seen.

Mia watched it all unfold, her heart thumping louder than the bass speakers surrounding her. Part of her wanted to turn away, head for the safety of home before anything else unpleasant happened.

Part of her wouldn’t let her move.

Becca was helped to her feet. One of her helpers seemed to want her to go with him, most likely to make sure she was ok, but she shrugged them both off, rubbed tearful eyes with her fists, and glanced around. The crowd had thinned out a little with closing time approaching, but there were still plenty of people in the room.

No one was within ten feet of her.

She shook her head, stumbled hesitantly off the dance floor, and headed for the restroom. She passed within a few feet of Mia. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, a mess of mascara-stained streaks contrasting sharply with her flawless skin.

No one went with her.

Mia closed her eyes, and leant her head back against the wall. In the space of a single minute the unexpected envy had been replaced with an even more unexpected compassion. Something had happened before the incident with the guy with incredibly-bad timing, something that had clearly upset a few of Becca’s friends.

And now the queen of Cambridge was all alone. But whatever she’d done, right then she needed a friend.

Mia headed for the restroom door. Something in her gut was telling her it was a really bad idea, but somehow she just couldn’t help herself.

The sound of violent throwing-up greeted her as she walked in. No one else was there. At first she couldn’t see Becca, but then she followed the disgusting sounds and found her on her knees, hanging over the toilet pan in one of the cubicles.

She backed away a little, unwilling to witness the less-than-pretty sight, and wanting to give Becca a little privacy. Thirty seconds later the noise abated, and then was replaced with a couple of coughs and splutters, and the sound of the toilet flushing.

For a second Mia thought about pretending to refresh her makeup so Becca didn’t think she’d followed her in, but decided against it. She had followed her in, but for all the right reasons. There was nothing to pretend about. Hopefully Becca would see it that way too.

‘What the fuck are you staring at?’ The words were slurred, rasped out.

‘Well, there’s no one else in the room, so work it out.’

‘Piss off. I don’t need you.’

‘Looked in the mirror lately?’

She didn’t answer, but glanced at her reflection anyway. The tears began to fall again. Mia turned her away from the all-too-revealing mirror. ‘We need to get you cleaned up. Where’s your bag?’

‘Dunno. Back in there somewhere.’

‘Good job I came prepared then.’ Mia opened her bag, pulled out a pack of travel tissues, and began to work on the tear and mascara stained face.

‘Oww!’ An ugly-looking and obviously painful bruise was beginning to form. ‘Sorry. I’ll be as gentle as I can.’

Their faces were a foot apart. Becca’s beautiful but sad eyes fixed on her as she worked away. ‘Why are you being so nice?’

‘No one else is.’

‘Doesn’t mean you have to be.’

‘I know. I saw what happened out there.’

‘Yeah, I saw you watching me.’

Mia froze, struggling to get the words out. ‘You... you saw me... in that sardine tin?’

She nodded. ‘Seen you around campus too. Mya, isn’t it?’

How the hell? They were on completely different courses, and had never spoken a single word. The sentences were getting even harder to put together. ‘It’s... M... Mia. But... how could you..?’

‘Guess it was the hair. Love the sexy pixie cut. And drop-dead gorgeous chestnut too. You dye it?’

‘It... it’s not really a pixie cut. Just short. And... um, no. It’s natural.’

‘Wow. Impressive. And it is a pixie cut.’

‘I... I didn’t think you even knew I existed, Becca.’

‘You obviously know I do, seeing as you know my name too.’

‘Everyone knows you exist.’

‘Oh yeah, I’ve got a million friends.’

The door creaked open, and three laughing girls shattered the relative peace and tranquillity. Mia dumped the used tissues into the bin. ‘Let’s get out of here, yeah?’

Becca nodded. ‘I need a drink anyway, after that fucking crap.’

‘Sure that’s a good idea?’

‘What, you my friggin’ mother now?’

‘Maybe I should be.’ Mia linked an arm into Becca’s to keep them both walking in something resembling a straight line, and they headed for the bar.

Chapter 4 

‘Who the fuck drinks Malibu anymore?’

‘Well I like it.’

‘You sure you’re not my mother?’

Becca’s muffled and slightly-slurred words somehow managed to escape from a face buried in arms draped across the bar top. They’d found a couple of stools now that people were heading home, and ordered the Malibu and double brandy just as the bar closed.

The strobes had died away, leaving just a few gently-flashing lights that matched the mood of the soft music, as the DJ skilfully lowered the ambience. Cambridge was a traditional and respectable city, and taking things down at the end of the night helped keep it that way.

A few couples shuffled around the dance floor, the die-hard clubbers and those who didn’t want to say goodnight to each other, but most people had gone. In a few minutes time, they’d all have to.

‘I hate my life.’ Another mumbled sentence somehow made its way through the shroud of Becca’s black hair.

‘No you don’t. It’s the drink talking.’ She had downed the brandy in one swig.

Finally a face appeared, as Becca turned her head slowly so the side of it was resting on her arms. It didn’t look like she had the strength to actually lift it. ‘How would you know? You my mother and my shrink now?’

‘Have you got a shrink?’

‘No. But maybe I should have. You wanna be my shrink? I’d like you to be my shrink… please?’

Mia smiled, reached out and brushed the strands of hair from Becca’s face. Big sad eyes seemed to be pleading with her. ‘I’m studying communications technology, not psychology. But I’m here now.’

The big eyes narrowed. ‘I’d like to communicate with a few people right now.’

‘You want to tell me what happened… earlier I mean?’

‘No.’ The face buried itself in the arms again. ‘They wouldn’t do what I wanted, that’s all.’

‘Guess you’re used to people obeying your every wish.’

She let out a very unfeminine snort. ‘They’re pathetic. Mindless morons who care about nothing but getting a shelfie with me.’

‘Shelfie?’ Mia laughed.

‘Sh… selfie… stop taking the piss.’

Mia lifted the hair from the side of Becca’s head, leant over and whispered in her ear. ‘I think we should get you home, although Christ knows how long we’ll have to wait for a taxi now.’

‘You smell nice.’

‘I smell better than you.’

The face appeared again, still horizontally. ‘Thanks.’

‘You want another mindless moron, or someone who tells it like it is?’

That seemed to stir something. Becca sat upright, if a little wobbly, and grinned inanely. ‘You don’t want a shelfie then?’

‘Hell no.’

For a few seconds she said nothing, her big blurry eyes trying to focus on the girl standing a foot away with her hand in hers. Then the tears began to form again. ‘I love you…’ she sobbed.

‘No you don’t. More drink talk. Come on, let’s go join the eternal queue.’

She eased Becca off the stool, and held her for a moment as she struggled to find the use of her legs. She never took her eyes off Mia, or the silly smile off her face. She lifted a finger, and prodded it into Mia’s nose. ‘But you see mother, you don’t know everything. We don’t need a taxshi.’

‘Why?’

‘I only live across the road. Daddy got me an apartment for my course.’

‘Good old daddy. Sure you can make it that far?’

 Slumped against the corner of the elevator, Becca looked like she needed more than one wall to keep her upright. But at least they’d made it, with just the last leg to negotiate to her apartment door.

The doors pinged aside. Mia wrapped an arm around Becca’s waist, and felt her body lean against hers. The foggy brown eyes pierce an inebriated stare into her. ‘I do love you… my beautiful pixie…’

‘Will you be quiet? It’s four in the morning.’

They staggered along the empty walkway. Fortunately it wasn’t so far to the apartment door. ‘Don’t want to be quiet.’ A silly giggle. ‘I want to shout it from the rooftopsh.’

‘You haven’t got a shout in you right now.’

‘Wanna bet?’

 It maybe wasn’t the best thing Mia could have said. She watched in horror as Becca’s mouth opened to suck in a deep breath. About to slap a hand across her mouth, she didn’t need to. The sudden influx of air did nothing but end up in a spluttery kind of coughing fit.

It wasn’t quite as loud as the potential rooftop shout, but even so Mia glanced around expecting a few doors to open and disgruntled residents to appear, staring and tut-tutting at them. It didn’t happen, but something else did.

‘I want to hooey now.’

‘Oh for fuck’s… give me the key.’

Somehow the apartment door got unlocked, and a retching Becca was wrenched through the living room and into the bathroom. Just in time.

Mia left her to it, slumping onto the couch wondering what the hell she’d got herself into. Hardly rock-steady herself, she wasn’t in the best of conditions to be the stake to Becca’s orchid. But at least they’d made it in one piece. She decided to make sure the fallen queen of Cambridge was settled, and then call herself a cab.

She cast her eyes around the space. Part living room, part kitchen, it was small but nicely furnished. A one-bedroom apartment in a block of sixty others, its location must have commanded a price tag close to those in London.

Daddy had probably rented it. He’d probably had no choice. His demanding daughter wasn’t going to put up with campus accommodation. She knew Becca was studying law... the chances were daddy had a career somewhere in the legal system, and wanted his daughter to do the same.

A private apartment was almost certainly the price he’d had to pay.

Through the half-open bathroom door she heard the toilet flush. And then seconds later, the buzz of an electric toothbrush. Two minutes later that died away. She reached for her phone to call a cab, but then heard the sound of running water. Becca had turned on the shower.

Mia frowned. Was that really a good idea? She’d noticed the shower when she’d bundled her into the bathroom, a big double-sized enclosure with plenty of room to fall over. Becca could hardly stand on her own, let alone take a shower.

She stood next to the door, and called out. ‘Becca?’

‘Yeah. I’m ok.’ Her voice still sounded shaky, faltering.

‘Are you taking a shower?’

‘Just about to. You said I smell.’

‘Actually I said I smelled better than you.’

‘So that’s different how? You can come in, for fuck’s sake.’

Mia pushed open the door, stepped into the room, and caught her breath. Becca stood next to the wash basin, stark naked, one hand holding onto it for support. Mia tried to swallow, but her mouth seemed to have dried up. ‘I… I’m not sure a shower is the best idea. You can hardly stand.’

‘You’d better come too then, and hold me up.’

Chapter 5 

Her olive skin seemed to glow, the spotlights set in the ceiling casting a mellow light over her, emphasizing every gentle contour of her beauty. Slim but never thin, every part of her seemed exquisitely matched to the next, flowing together in effortless harmony, She was a perfect blend of perfect pieces, forged into a perfect whole.

Mia stood like a statue, drinking her in, feeling the blood coursing through her veins, and thumping in her ears. Becca’s eyes never left hers, silently allowing her to take in her nakedness, watching closely for a reaction.

‘I… you want me to join you?’ Mia whispered.

‘I need a shower. You said it wasn’t safe on my own. Work it out, Mia.’

‘But…’ The words dried up along with her mouth. It might have had something to do with Becca taking three hesitant steps so she was right in front of her, emphasising the fact she really wasn’t safe on her own.

Instinctively Mia reached out to steady her, and caught her breath as her hands closed around the silky-smooth skin of her waist. Becca ran shaky hands up her arms, across her shoulders, and then lifted the clasp of the zip on her back, and slowly lowered it as far as it would go.

Mia sucked in a hitched breath, the loosening of the cling film dress a sudden realisation she was losing the last piece of her armour. Somehow her hands refused to do anything to stop it happening, the words to keep the wall intact unable to form on her lips. And as the dress finally fell to the floor at her feet, and warm moist air caressed her naked skin, she closed her eyes, knowing she’d lost the battle.

‘Are you going to stand there all night, or come and do what you said?’

Becca’s softly-spoken words wrenched her back to harsh reality. ‘I… I think it was you who said, actually.’

‘Playing with words again, Mia. Help me please, I don’t trust my legs anymore.’

Mia watched herself, like a hidden voyeur, one hand holding Becca’s, the other around her waist as they stepped under the warm water. Somehow it wasn’t her who gasped as the water cascaded beautifully over their naked skin. It was someone else’s hands slipping around Becca’s slim waist as she stood facing away, and rested her head back against her shoulder.

Lips that belonged to a person Mia didn’t know kissed Becca’s shoulder, and then her neck, over and over. Hands she didn’t own tightened around the girl who cried out at her touch, slipped hands over hers and guided them to her breasts, and then lower down.

Lightning bolts Mia had never known speared into her, sizzling inside her like a firecracker sending sparks right to where it mattered, lighting the fuse that made her whole body shake with fear and with ecstasy.

‘Wash me…’ Becca whispered. The gel bottle was in her hand, squirting into Mia’s upturned palm, giving her no choice. She wanted no choice, hands with a mind of their own caressing Becca’s shoulders and her upper arms, curling around the firmness of her breasts, and teasing light brown nipples to peaks of rock.

Becca cried out, turned around slowly, inch by inch, filling her own palms with gel, and finally facing Mia. A beautiful, desperate smile creased her face, and a look of pure desire sparkled in her eyes. And then warm, wet lips pressed into Mia’s, taking her breath away, and dispelling everything except the joyous kiss and the hands that caressed her back, cupped around her butt, and pressed their bodies together like they were one.

The kiss lasted forever...  sometimes gentle, occasionally ferocious, and then gentle again. Lips and tongues explored each other’s as water they hardly noticed cascaded over them. Then Becca broke away, easing Mia back against the shower wall, grasping her hands, and pressing them back above her head. She kissed her neck, allowing her lips to drift across her shoulders.

Then she sank downwards, constant delicate kisses finding the curve of Mia’s breasts, wrapping around erect nipples, and lingering to tease them harder than they’d ever known. Still downwards, she kissed the tightness of stomach muscles flexing with ecstasy and anticipation, drifting into the tiny valley at the top of each thigh, and then slowly lower still, until they reached the place they really needed to be.

She paused, heard Mia moan, looked up and whispered, ‘I’m going to make you come like you’ve never come before…’

Finally the hands let go of Mia’s, drifted down her body, feeling every contour, pressing every button. And as they caressed her thighs and curved round to ease her butt away from the wall a little, she heard her cry out, and felt her quiver of anticipation.

Her tongue took no prisoners, ferociously showing no mercy. Mia screamed, forcing hands that weren’t hers to wrap around Becca’s head, and press her even deeper into her.

Mia cried out for relief, her whole body shaking as the warm water pounded her skin, and Becca’s lips and tongue pounded her where it mattered. So high… so close to a release she didn’t yet want but couldn’t deny.

Tears of joy fell from her eyes, mingling with the shower water falling onto Becca as she glanced up, realising the moment had come. She smiled beautifully, dropped her head a little, and kissed the spot just above where Mia wanted her to.

‘You fucking tease…’

Then it was nothing but the tip of her tongue, making the tiniest of movements, teasing Mia’s climax to an impossible high, waiting until the moment she exploded and then sinking deep inside her, forcing her to scream again and again, and finally rip Becca’s head away because she just couldn’t take any more.

Mia’s legs turned to jelly, unable to hold her up any longer. As she sank slowly down the shower wall, and Becca’s hands guided so she straddled her thighs, Mia’s world went black. For a few seconds there was nothing, and then consciousness slowly returned.

Becca’s arms were around her, holding her so tight she could hardly breathe. Mia eased her head from her shoulder, saw the tears tumbling from Becca’s eyes. ‘You ok?’ she managed to whisper.

She nodded slowly. ‘Sure. That was just… so beautiful.’

‘Wow… how do you think I feel?’

They held each other close, unmoving, for what seemed like an age. Not another word was spoken, even when Mia finally rediscovered the use of her legs and eased herself away from Becca. They dried each other with thick white towels, and suddenly exhaustion came to call.

Becca led them through to the bedroom, and smiled beautifully. ‘I can’t stay awake any longer. Will you spoon me to sleep, please?’

Mia nodded, slipped under the duvet beside her, and allowed her hand to be guided around Becca’s waist. Sleep had already waited around for too long. In two minutes they’d both drifted off, their spent bodies so close together it felt like they were welded to each other.

 Sleep may have come in minutes, but for Mia it only lasted a few hours. She woke with a start, and for a second or two a wave of panic wafted over her. She was in a strange bed, in a room she didn’t recognise. Then her eyes fell onto Becca, fast asleep beside her.

Then she knew. It did nothing to dispel the panic welling up inside her. As the memories flooded back, her gut tightened into a knot that didn’t seem to want to undo. She glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty. She eased back the duvet, rolled gently over and slipped out of bed as quietly as she could.

Waking Becca then would be a disaster.

She retrieved the cling film dress, still in a crumpled heap on the bathroom floor, and slipped it back on. It was hardly daytime wear, but it would have to do. She was booked on the two-thirty train, travelling back to her mother’s home in north London for the summer. Most of the stuff was packed, but there were still things to do.

She told herself.

A dousing of cold water to the face brought her back to life, but looking at her reflection in the mirror rebooted the panic. What had she done? Something totally out of character, something totally unplanned, unforeseen. Something that was scaring the hell out of her.

She pulled the red shoes back over her aching feet, and picked up the clutch bag ready to head for the door. Then she hesitated. She couldn’t just leave, not without… not without what?

She looked around the living room, and spotted a notepad. Quickly she scribbled a few words, a brief note to explain. But what ended up on the paper didn’t come from the heart. She ignored everything of that nature, and instead wrote the ones her head told her to say…

 Sorry I had to leave early. Have to catch a train later. Didn’t want to wake you. Thank you so much for last night, it was wonderful. Please take care, Mia x

 Legs she couldn’t seem to control took her back into the bedroom. Eyes that couldn’t seem to drag themselves away gazed down on the girl who she couldn’t accept had awakened something in her.

She looked so peaceful, an arm draped over the top of the duvet, her silky black hair fallen across her face. She longed to reach out, and ease it away so she could see her flawless beauty one last time, but resisted the urge. It might wake her.

She placed the note on the coffee table where it would be easily seen, and slipped away.

Hurrying along the main street towards the taxi rank half a mile away, Mia’s head was a jumble of messed-up emotions. Tears were trying to come, but she couldn’t understand why. Last night was a mistake, brought on by six Malibu’s. Four more than she could comfortably handle.

And if it hadn’t been for alcohol and friends deserting her, a girl like Becca wouldn’t even have given her a second glance. Two people came together in freak circumstances, did something they now regret, and… and it was time to stop thinking about it.

It was just a mistake. A very nice mistake. But a mistake none the less.

Mia slumped into the back seat of the cab, and forced her head to think of easier things.

Forcing her heart to do the same would prove more of a challenge.

It would be a full five years until Mia saw Becca again. It would be a very different Becca, and a very different kind of heartbreak they’d both have to deal with.