CHAPTER TWO
Tell Me I'm The Only One
Finding where to sleep was a bit more of a problem, since I knew that my parents would kill me shoudl I try to share a room with any of the Beatles, and the Beatles themselves didn't know how to call down and get another one without also getting the attention of hundreds of fans who were waiting downstairs in the lobby. Finally Ringo yelled down the hall,
"NELL! PENNY NEEDS A ROOM!" as loud as he possible could and I winced. Anyone sleeping would definitely be sleeping no longer.
Poor Neil came padding down the hall in his robe and picked up the phone to get me a room...that night, I was tucked in by four grinning Beatles, (some grinning kind grins, others perverse grins: I coulud tell John's even in the darkness and I kicked him lightly as he bent over me to give me a goodnight)...kiss? Wait a second! My eyes closed tightly; this couldn't be happening! John straightened up and looked at me smugly.
"If I kiss you are you going to collapse 'gain, 'cos I don't feel like reviving you." It was more of a statement than a question, and I shook my head in an 'I-don't-know-let's-see' reply. He bent down once more and I felt his lips brush my cheek. I caught my breath.
"Well, Sparkle girl, are you going to kiss me back or swoon?" Sparkle girl. I liked that. I lifted myself up and kissed him...yes, on the cheek. But I couldn't help but wonder what I might have done, had I known that he was not married....
Ringo leaned over next gave me a hug...I hugged him back. George followed happily; he got two kisses, one per cheek, as well as a gigantic hug and a whispered 'thank you' in his ear. He stepped back smiling. Paul was last in line, and I could already see his mind working devilishly to scheme up a plan.
"Don't even try it, McCartney..." I warned him, but he only smiled and bent down. He gave me the appropraite peck on the cheek, and as I felt his lips touch my skin, (sensory overload,) a burst of love and excitement hit me that I struggled to contain.
"Come 'ed, luv, don't be shy, you got one, I get one back!" Paul instructed me. I leaned forward to kiss him, his cheek was turned towards me...and at the last second, the last millisecond, he turned his cheek and my lips touched his at the same moment. Something inside that had been keeping me from him snapped, and I leaned forward to kiss him harder as he was kissing me. So close that I could feel a scar on his lower lip, so close that I scraped my cheek on the stubble on his chin. Gently but quickly, Paul slipped his tongue into my mouth. What could I do? I allowed it for a few seconds before pulling away in pretend indignation. Paul obviously had wanted to continue, (his sigh of disappointment and reluctance to let go proved it,) and I ran my hand through his silky hair as an apology before sitting back. I breathed in his scent of washed hair, tobacco, smoke, peppermint gum and aftershave as it mixed with the scent of the squeaky-clean hotel room. For a few moments, no one but Paul and I existed in the room.
When the realization did hit me, my eyes bulged wide in surprise, and I dove under the covers in a fit of laughter. John promptly dragged me out again, kicking feebly but still laughing giddily. The face that I saw as soon as I emerged from the blanket of white, was none other than Paul's. Typical.
He smiled condescendingly.
"Now, then, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"You ASS! What the hell did you think you were doing...?" I tried to at least make an impression that I was mad, but my laughter gave me away.
"Oh, so that wasn't good enough, then?" asked Paul slyly, and crawled on top of the bed. He crouched over me, pinning my arms down by my sides, and looking as if he were about to wrestle me to the ground. All of a sudden, fear struck me. What was I doing? Where was I? What was happening? Why was this man above me in bed?
"Paul, stop." I gasped. Paul looked at me in surprise, and got up slowly.
"Sorry, luv, just fooling." He looked so apologetic that I almost started laughing again...John and Ringo's faces were a sight to see as well, a mixture of amazement and shock combined with appreciative smiles for Paul's and my kiss. Wait a second...John, Paul and Ringo....where was George?
The others knew exactly what I was thinking, and, as a group, we walked out of the room, back to the Beatles' main suite. There was George, seated with one hand covering his eyes and his face, a cigarette smoking beside him. I tentatively walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. George jumped up, and then looked up, his eyes snapping sparks.
"Where did you come from?" he asked me harshly. "I thought you were busy with Paul." I was puzzled as to what he meant by this tone of voice, but then reality hit me.
"George!" I gasped, "you're not...jealous?!"
"No!" he replied loudly, and then I could see his mouth working with emotion. "Well...maybe."
"You silly boy, you!" I chided him. "Haven't you got enough? You're never happy! C'mere." I dragged him into the hall, and kicked the door shut behind me. I pushed George against the wall. He looked down at me, visibly amused, and was not protesting when I dragged him down to my level by his tie, even though I must have nearly choked him....I pressed my lips against his, and he kissed feverishly back, clutching me to his body. After a few heated moments I felt him getting hard against me. The sensation was new, exciting, and it felt good. But especially then, I knew it was time to stop and not give him the wrong idea. He was used to girls throwing themselves at him and could misinterpret my actions. So I pulled away, and George straightened up and once again looked down at me, cheeks flushed, eyes dancing now with happiness.
"Better." He said teasingly.
"Oh, for cryin' out loud," I sighed, and kissed him again. "There you go," I stated, once I had felt that the kiss had gone to the highest appropriate level, and George exhaled loudly.
"I don't know what I'm doing, Penny," he said to me slowly, in his wonderful voice filled with Liverpool scouse, "I've got a wife...but God, something about you..."
"Look who's talking!" I laughed, "I just kissed George Harrison, Beatle!"
"Is that all you see me as?" His face fell noticeably and I almost laughed but knew that he didn't think it was something to joke about.
"No." I answered, "I see you as a smart, kind, thoughtful, generous, handsome and talented person whom I love very much, even though I've only known you for a day. I feel like I've known you forever."
"Me too." He said to me, and smothered any further comment by me with another passionate kiss.
I slept in my hotel bed alone that night, confused and in love...*in love with Paul, in love with George...and not sure if either of them was at all right for me.