That One Moment (Lost in London #2) (9 page)

BOOK: That One Moment (Lost in London #2)
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“I’m coming, I’m coming.” She looks at me. “You good?”

I glance over at Hayden who’s propped himself against the brick wall with his arms crossed in a moody stance. “I’m great,” I reply with a fake smile.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Leslie says, waving me off as she rushes to follow Theo back inside.

I turn to face away from Hayden with a bit of an attitude as we wait for his car to be pulled up. I don’t know what the hell his problem is with me, but I’m certain I did nothing to deserve it. When a black BMW comes around the bend, I hear Hayden push off the wall and walk over to Benji. I breathe a sigh of relief because I want nothing to do with that bin.

“In ya go,” he says, folding Benji into the backseat.

I get a cutting glare from Hayden when I walk around to the other backseat door. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to ride in the back with him.”

“What on earth for?”

“In case he gets sick! You don’t want him puking in your car. I won’t be much help to him from the front seat wearing a dress like this.”

“I’m not a fucking chauffer. Ride in the front.” Hayden stands back, holding the passenger door open for me like it’s the end of the discussion. I do my best to stomp the whole way over and then slide in. I reach down to grab the extra bit of my dress to tuck inside the car, but Hayden beats me to it.

“Bloody helpful, rude bastard,” I mumble as he walks around the car.

He slides into the driver’s seat. “Where am I going?” His voice is flat as he stares straight forward.

“Notting Hill. On Portobello Road.”

We sit in silence as he turns through the streets to the area where Benji lives with his aunt. I hear some faint groans from Benji and look back nervously for fear of another rupture.

“Did I do something to offend you?” I ask after a bit of heavy silent tension.

“‘Course not,” he replies dismissively.

“It’s just that this is the first time you’ve spoken more than one word to me and you haven’t been super matey.”

“You didn’t do anything,” he mumbles and offers nothing more on the subject. We soon arrive at Benji’s aunt’s building, and Hayden pulls up to the curb behind a black cab.

“Benji, we’re here,” I say, unbuckling and getting out to open the back door nearest him.

Hayden beats me to it as he opens his side first. He grips Benji’s arm that’s now completely limp. Benji moans out, “Can’t walk. Two whole floors. Too far. I’ll die.”

Hayden rolls his eyes and grabs Benji by the arm and throws him over his shoulder.

“You don’t honestly mean to carry him up two flights of stairs,” I scoff as Benji groans in weak protest.

“Just point the way to your boyfriend’s flat, would ya?” he snaps, rolling his eyes.

His impertinence angers me like crazy, so I storm off, not even looking back to see if he’s struggling. I wrench open the entry door and the doorman gawks at me in confusion. “Benji Abernathy.” I point to the doorway as Hayden emerges.

“Second floor. Second door on the right,” he replies, looking rather taken aback. “There’s no lift.”

Ignoring the doorman’s warning, I storm up the steps and take the flights as quickly as possible. I’ve been to Benji’s flat one other time to pick him up for a work do, but I’ve never been inside. He lives with his Aunt Agitha, whom Benji is always telling stories about in the office. Apparently, she’s a psychic or a clairvoyant or something. But because of that, she doesn’t get on with a lot of the family who are heavily religious. Leave it to Benji to connect with a fellow outsider.

I knock on the door. When it swings open, I am met by a heavyset woman wearing a giant floral print moo moo and hair rollers, who’s looking at me in shock. “Aunt Agitha, I presume?”

“Yes.” She eyes my dress briefly. “Are you Benji’s mate?”

Just then, Hayden catches up. I can feel him looming over my shoulder from behind, his breathing a bit heavier than before. Ignoring the prickling sensation his hot breath on my neck causes, I silently point backward with my thumb.

Agitha’s eyes grow wide in acknowledgement and she tsks, “Foolish child.”

Hayden drops Benji to his feet and he wavers, holding onto Hayden’s shoulders for support. Benji then wraps both hands around Hayden’s back and gives him a mighty bear hug. “Thanks for the lift,” he mumbles against his chest.

Then, Benji stuns us all when he steps back and drops a mighty kiss right on Hayden’s mouth!

It wasn’t a proper snog. Just a quick peck on the lips. But Hayden’s shocked expression is priceless. I bite my lip to conceal the growing urge I have to laugh. Benji turns around and his eyes are completely closed still. His aunt steps past me and grabs him by the arm. “C’mon Benj. Off to beddy-bye you go.”

“Top night!” Benji shouts and then stumbles into me. Hayden reaches forward, grabbing me firmly around my waist to prevent me from falling.

Agitha’s eyes fly wide as if she’s been stung. Standing only a foot away from my face now as she clasps Benji’s arm, she looks back and forth between Hayden and me. I swear her pupils dilate, so I look down briefly to ensure she isn’t hurt anywhere.

“You two,” she gasps, her voice tight and high-pitched. “Are you together?”

“No,” I jeer, a bit overly defensive as she continues looking back and forth between Hayden and me. Perhaps Hayden’s charms are affecting her as well.

“I just thought. No, no. Never you mind.” She shakes her head as if trying to snap herself out of a daze. Then Benji moans loudly that he thinks he’s going to be sick. She scurries him into the flat and shuts the door, offering us a quick thank you.

“You sure your boyfriend is into girls?” Hayden grumbles, wiping his lips as we make our way back toward the stairs.

I snicker, “I couldn’t care less who he’s into.” Benji kissing Hayden was the perfect end to an already weird evening. Serves Hayden right for being a brooding, cranky wanker.

He glances over at me, allowing me to pass him on the steps. “I just assumed.”

I pause and look up at him. “He’s just a coworker I thought could do with a night out.”

Hayden’s brow furrows at this. “I think he’ll need a morning in after this.”

I laugh softly and continue our descent. Hayden opens the car door for me again, and his crabby expression from before seems slightly lifted.

“Benji’s snog soften you up a bit?” I ask as he starts the car and pulls away.

“What do you mean?”

“You seemed rather moody earlier. It seems Benji’s affection warmed you up.”

As if compliments crush him, his eyes turn back into slits. “Where do you live?”

“Oh, you don’t have to take me home. Just take me back to the ballroom. I’ll grab a cab there.”

“Where…do…you…live,” he repeats slower and with more force.

“You are awfully bossy for someone who’s only spoken one word to me before tonight.”

“You’re awfully sassy for someone whose dog has licked my balls.”

“What?” I exclaim and start laughing. “Is that what all this fuss is about? Are you mad at Bruce?”

“‘Course not.” Hayden scowls, looking out the side window. “But I really need to know where I’m going.”

Sighing heavily, I tell him I live by Brick Lane Market and he gives me a shocked look.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

He’s back to the silent treatment for several more miles. This man’s temperature changes are making me feel like I have the flu. Finally desperate to break the silence, I say the first thing that pops in my head.

“You…did well up there tonight.” I fidget awkwardly with the outer layer of fabric on my dress, pinching it and rolling the smooth material between my fingers. “It was a very moving speech.”

I’m desperate to look at his face right now to gauge his reaction, but I’m too scared. So instead, I do something really smart…I continue babbling. “I was always crap at speeches. I’d clam up and lose my words. Then I’d look down at my notes and everything would suddenly look backwards. One time I belched right in the middle of the speech. I think the class thought I was going to puke like poor Benji.” I laugh awkwardly and look out the widow, slamming my eyes shut tight.
Shut up, Vi. Shut up!

Thankfully, he chuckles and says, “Thanks. It wasn’t easy.” I can’t help but glance back at him. His hands are gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. “Just trying to bring awareness and help create funds to support others in need. It’s more common than you’d think.”

His demeanour transforms from an agitated, cagey alpha to a cool, suave business man. It feels like an act.

“I know. I mean, I can imagine…I mean…Bugger,” my voice trails off and I look away, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment. Clearing my throat, I decide to pry further, “Have you done a speech like that before?”

He shakes his head slowly.

“So this was kind of a big night then.” He continues to squint against the London city lights, appearing deep in thought. Feeling brazen, I add, “I erm…actually have questions…if you ever want to answer them. I mean…of course you don’t have to. But if you do…I’d be interested to learn more.”

Questions? Christ, Vi, why didn’t you just tell him you’re a morbid freak who sleeps with porcelain dolls!

Silence stretches out between us and he looks confused.

“Do you mean questions about the charity?” he asks, his voice low.

“That and other things,” I answer. I’m curious about many things in regards to Hayden. I’m not sure I’ve been this intrigued by a male my entire life. His speech did nothing to deter that curiosity.

“Are you a suicide survivor?” he asks.

“No,” I reply, frowning.

“Do you know someone who is?”

“No.”

“Then what on earth would you care to know more about?”

“You,” I blurt out, honestly.

He doesn’t seem to like that answer. His jaw clenches as we drive around the familiar streets to my neighbourhood. I exhale and look out the window feeling like an absolute prat. I went from loathing him to wanting to pick his brain. Now I just want out of this tense car of emotion.

“This is me,” I say, pointing to the curb in front of my alley.

He pulls up in front of the Hookah Lounge that’s illuminating the entire sidewalk with its glowing neon purple and green sign. The doors are drizzling with people wafting in and out with big puffs of smoke billowing out each time it opens.

Just as I begin to thank him, he hops out of the car and walks around to open my door. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, clambering out.

“Which is yours?”

“I’m just down this alley. I’ll be fine. Thanks again.” I say, waving and attempting to scurry away from him with my tail tucked between my legs.

He ignores my dismissal and begins walking toward the dimly lit alley. I remain still on the sidewalk and say, “Mr. Bossy is back again, I see.”

He stops and turns on his heel to glare at me. The purple light is glowing through his disheveled spiky hair and gives him a tasty glow. I glance down to see the green light is shooting down over my dress. I try crossing my arms over my chest to look more intimidating now that I’m the colour of the Hulk.

“I’m not about to let a beautiful woman in a white evening gown walk down an alley at night by herself.” His voice has an edge of annoyance to it. “Some people would call it gentlemanly.”

Beautiful. He said beautiful. My nerves sizzle beneath my skin as just one word uttered from his perfectly shaped mouth made him instantly hot to me again. Okay, fine, he never stopped being hot. But with the way he was behaving, I was trying my hardest to be put off by him.

“I’m not some people.”

With a huff of a laugh, he replies, “I’ve gathered.”

He unbuttons his suit coat and opens it just enough to slide his hands into his trouser pockets. My eyes follow the action and land right on his crotch. I look up and the cheeky bugger is smirking at me. I look away, back to feeling mortified once again. So much for a Hulk smash.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not quite going home yet.”

His scowl is back as his jaw shifts back and forth in obvious annoyance. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean, I have an errand to run.”

“An errand. At nearly,” he looks at his watch, “eleven o’clock at night. What on earth—”

“It was my birthday yesterday and I still have to have my cake. There’s a bakery around the corner that closes in five minutes, and if you don’t shut up and leave, I’m not going to get my birthday cake and I bloody well love cake.” I think I stamp my foot, but I’m too busy thinking about cake to notice.

“Cake. You want cake?”

I nod earnestly.

“Well then, let’s get some cake.”

BOOK: That One Moment (Lost in London #2)
4.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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