I'm With The Band (Catfish & The Bottlemen/Sam Fender)

Part 3

The pub's small and dark and smells of stale beer. Some people might call it quaint. I wrinkle my nose up as we all stepped inside and I hear a quiet chuckle coming from beside me.

"Not your usual kind of establishment I'm guessing love?"

I turn to face Johnny who has a softly amused kind of smile on his lips but Larry cuts in before I get a chance to answer. "Don't think they serve Cristal in here, Bella, sorry!"

I narrow my eyes at him. "Whatever you think you know about me, you've got me all wrong..."

Larry laughs, nudging Johnny. "Eh, reckon she's slumming it tonight!"

Johnny laughs too and steps up to the bar, ordering three pints of lager. I take a seat, pleased when Johnny sits down right next to me. Larry mumbles something about going out for a fag leaving me and Johnny alone.

"Pint okay for you?" He grins, taking a huge swallow of his own drink.

"Uh-huh," I nod with a smile. "Perfect."

To be honest lager wouldn't be my first choice of drink... or my second, third or fourth for that matter, but Johnny's bought it for me so I don't want to offend him.

I reach for my glass, taking a sip, trying to be ladylike but not quite pulling it off. Johnny laughs, a low throaty sound, and he's looking at me funny.

"What?" I demand, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

"You just got it all..." he indicates his own face with his finger "... kinda everywhere..."

So much for trying to be seductive. I reach up to touch my mouth, dismayed that I now seem to have half of the head of my pint adorning my upper lip. I quickly wipe it away, but Johnny's still grinning.

"Come 'ere lass," he reaches over, running a finger just above my top lip when I lean forward.

I'm not sure what possesses me, but before he has a chance to pull away I grab his hand, running my tongue lightly over his finger and lightly sucking the tip, my gaze flicking up to meet his.

"Thanks Johnny," I purr.

His eyes go slightly wide and he snatches his hand quickly away, reaching for his own pint, shifting in his seat slightly. I cross and uncross my legs, my thigh rubbing against Johnny's. He clears his throat before looking back across at me.

"So... Arabella... I'm intrigued about what you said earlier... about your parents not trusting you to stay on your own. How old are you if you don't mind me asking?"

I give him a playful smile. "Old enough to know better... but young enough not to give a fuck! I'm 19."

"What did you do?" Johnny says, intrigued, but Larry's back and he wants to know what we're talking about. When Johnny tells him, Larry's eyes light up with the prospect of spilling some juicy gossip.

"Oh our Bells is a regular little party animal!" He says. "Trashed the house didn't you love?"

"They were overreacting," I complain. "It wasn't that bad!"

"That's not what I heard," Larry smirks, then he looks at Johnny, pretending he's talking conspiratorially but really loud enough for us all to hear. "You need to keep an eye on this one, I'm telling ya!"

Larry gets distracted by someone he's seen over the other side of the pub so he doesn't see Johnny turn and look at me.

"Oh, I intend to..." he says quietly, a subtle smirk staining his lips.

"Benji, Bob! Over here!"

Larry's on his feet now, waving, and I look over as two guys approach the table.

One is tall and thin with a wild mop of tangled curls... and a very nice smile I think to myself. He's wearing a black leather jacket and skinny black jeans and looks every inch the cool rockstar despite his seemingly quiet demeanour. The other has a cute face framed with dark-rimmed glasses. He's also got a head of curls but he's got his scraped back into a ponytail. He gives me an adorable bashful smile when I catch his eye.

Introductions are made all around and I smile sweetly at the guys, sizing them up, my disappointment at spending the summer with my cousin dissipating by the second. It's just a pity that they have band stuff to discuss and I find myself stifling a yawn as talk turns to practice venues and gigs they have lined up.

"Where's Van got to anyway?" Benji pipes up.

Even the mention of his name riles me. Hopefully he won't turn up. Larry starts grumbling and digs his phone out of his pocket but as if on cue Johnny's calling out. "There he is! Over here Van!"

Despite the sour memories I'm interested to see how my childhood nemesis has turned out after all these years, remembering the scrawny, scruffy haired lad who used to tease me mercilessly. I stretch up in my seat, straining to see, when a tall, lean figure strides over.

"Alright lads!"

Well, well... now this must be the glow-up of the century. The years have certainly been kind. Van runs a hand through his hair as he looks around the group and when his eyes alight on me he does a double-take.

"Fuck me! Arabella Turner is that you?"

His eyes are practically popping out of his head as they take me in, and he's certainly taking me in, brazenly so. Every inch.

"Long time no see, Van," I say back, trying to act aloof even though my interest is piqued in such a way that I'm finding it hard not to mirror Van's own reaction to seeing me.

I smile to myself at his slack-jawed expression and it doesn't go unnoticed by my cousin. "Fucking hell mate, why don't you take a photo? It'll last longer!"

Sniggers erupt from around the table and Van finally comes to. He steps forward, pint in hand, shunting Larry aside so that he can take the seat next to me.

"Shift up Larry, I want to sit next to Arabella. We've got some catching up to do."

Yep... this is certainly going to be an interesting summer...