Trace of Innocence (No Control Book 3)

Chapter 52 - part i

(No Control - 52. Spaces, first part)

I spend most of the following week mooching around the house feeling miserable. I text Jess several times a day, and ring her every couple of hours, but she doesn't even acknowledge me. She only seems to be opening my messages every couple of days, and when I see my texts have been read (usually while I am asleep, which I suspect is on purpose) I feel a flutter of excitement, which quickly dissolves as soon as she ignores my next call.   

Her Twitter and Facebook profile are silent, and I even resort to looking through the people she follows on Twitter, and her Facebook friends, just to see if I can see anything about what she may be doing, but I draw a blank. It's like she's dropped off the face of the earth.

I'm distracted on Friday morning by an online article about Louis disappearing to his hotel room with a girl for six hours after partying at Cirque Le Soir in London. I smirk as I read the story, before deciding to give him a call.

"Harold," he greets me when he answers.

"Just been reading about you," I respond. "Been shagging any girls in your hotel room recently?"

"Plenty," he says and I can hear the grin in his voice. "Are you referring to anyone in particular, or...?"

"You fucking man whore," I chide him.

"Just enjoying life. Which is more than can be said for you lately. Has Jess given in to your dimples yet?"

"She still won't answer my calls," I mutter, and Louis gives a low whistle.

"Wow, she must be pissed off with a capital P," he says.

"You think?" I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What are you gonna do?" 

"I don't know," I sigh. "I wish I'd just got straight on a plane and followed her home, but it's too late now. I'll just look like a tosser if I turn up now, a week later. And anyway, we're in the studio in a few days."

"Use this as your inspiration," he advises.

"I have," I confess. "I've got loads of ideas, I just need someone to bounce them off, but I need to get the lyrics clear in my head first."

"Siiick," he says appreciatively.

"Yeah, there's one that I think might be sort of up your street," I tell him. "I can't wait for you to hear it."

"How does it go?" he asks.

"I haven't got the tune down properly yet," I say, shaking my head at the wall.

"Lyrics then? Just to the vague tune."

"If you like having secret little rendezvous, and if you like doing things you know that we shouldn't do, then baby you're perfect, and baby I'm perfect for you..."

"I like it," he says immediately. "Verse or chorus?"

"I'm thinking that for the chorus. It needs another line in there, though, something about the paps always being around. And I'm not happy with the overall wording yet. It needs work. I've got a couple of lines for a verse, though."

"Go on."

"When I first saw you, from across the room, I could tell that you were curious. Girl, I hope you're sure what you're looking for, I just wanna be the one tonight."

"That last line doesn't really go," he muses. 

"I know," I agree. 

"You could use that section for the bridge, and lead into the chorus with it. Is she perfect or are you perfect?"