The Object of my Affection: My Brother's Band Mate

Between the Two of Us

"That's a ridiculous idea."

Liverpool was illuminated by golden pools dripping down from artificial lights that hovered above the concrete pavements. The golden hue contrasted sharply with the black, clear sky that engulfed the industrial city. The familiar sights of red bricked establishments and council estates blurred by as Paul navigated his car through the empty streets. Not a soul was on the pavements, unless a congregation of them loitering outside a pub.

"Just think about it," urged Paul.

Brona's forehead rested against the cool glass of the passenger seat window. The effects of the Baby Cham she had drunk started taking a toll on her when she had sat into the Austin Martin. Her thought process was noticeably slower and she could feel her brain turn to mush, as if it were a disintegrating soggy cake. But then again, thought the brunette, she could equally place the blame on Paul's droll conversation.

"I did," she admitted, straightening up in her seat. Her eyes darted towards the driver. "And it's silly."

Paul scoffed playfully. Even though she was disagreeing with him, he couldn't help but grin. His left hand released the steering wheel and found it's way to her knee. He kneaded her nylon covered skin, feeling texture graze his fingertips. His hand came to rest on her exposed thigh.

"I'm serious though," he said earnestly. "If we keep our relationship a secret between the two if us-"

"The two of us and Ringo..."

Paul bobbed his head in acknowledgement, his lips twisting at the predicament. "The two of us... and Ringo..." he repeated in a mumble of disdain. He had to admit that Ringo had been as good as gold from the moment he drove the pair, all cuddled up in the backseat, home from the train station. Voluntarily, he'd given his word that he'd let the couple get on with it themselves and he'd cause no interference. If anyone was the epitome of good old-fashioned Liverpool loyalty, it was Ringo.

However, Paul never considered Ringo's role in the grand schemes of his plan. The drummer's knowledge really did throw a spanner in the works. Of course Ringo wouldn't rat them out, Paul knew that, but now he was a liability. Paul pushed the temporary error to the back of his mind. His solution was simply. He'd just have to have a chat with his friend... after he convinced his passenger to go along with his idea.

"Listen," said Paul, beginning a new train of thought. He broke his view of the road, exchanging it for the view of his girlfriend. Brona was now resting her back against the car door, watching him attentively with raised brows. He flashed her a smile before resuming his focus on the road. "It'll only be for a few weeks, at most. If we tell everyone, we won't get a second alone... and I think, at the beginnin' of her relationship, some time alone would be ideal. When we tell them, it won't be just you and I anymore. It'll be you, me and everyone else."

Brona swayed her head in consideration. There was a method in his madness, that she could see. She already knew how hard it was to get their relationship up and running. She had been thinking about it a lot. Her thoughts were mainly occupied with their transition from friends to lovers. The mentality would be the same but the emotion and the physicality of their situation would intensify. Brona had to admit she felt very liberal next to Paul. The liberation of boundaries one only got in a relationship where you could touch, hold and love someone in ways no one else could. You were theirs. They were yours. Completely.

Yet, she wasn't entirely satisfied with Paul's plan. The holes were evident and she knew him well enough to know he'd try to cover them up with a plaster when they really needed cement.

"It's a lovely idea," Brona began, purposely positive. Her hand fell onto of his, squeezing it gently. "But let's face it," she frowned. "We're not goin' to 'ave a few weeks together. So why put so much pressure on us? Even if we had all the time in the world to sort this out, do you know how hard it'll be to keep this from everyone? The sneakin' off? Prayin' no one will catch us? All the deceit and the lies. It's all a bit much for real life, don't you think?"