Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
James rolls his eyes at that, but Piper stiffens up beside me, and I can tell she’s attempting to kick Harrison under the table, as if I shouldn’t hear about this. I mean, I don’t care what James does, though I never gave much thought to who he was seeing when he went into the city. I guess the guy does date, he just doesn’t bring them home.
I shift in my seat and plaster on a smile to hide the strange prick of jealousy in my gut, just as the waitress returns with the much-needed drinks.
We all toast bon voyage to Piper and Harrison, and the rest of the dinner flows nicely. Between bites of cacio e pepe and the heavenly burrata salad, I feel my shoulders drop, a weight lifted. It feels like I actually have friends, and the more I dwell on that the more I grow warm inside. It makes me want to open up, to ask them silly questions, to relax and let my guard down a little.
But I manage to keep myself in check, and though I want to drink more than just the Aperol Spritz, I limit myself to one.
When the meal is done we walk Piper and Harrison to the tube (she was insistent on taking it one last time, who knows why) and say our goodbyes. They tell us they’ll be back soon, which I doubt, and if either James or I want a real vacation, we should come visit them in Canada, but I doubt that too, unless Eddie and Monica decide to go.
Then they’re gone and it’s just James and me outside the Knightsbridge station. The rain I smelled earlier feels close, an electric charge to the breeze, signaling change.
“I think it’s going to rain,” I tell him.
“We better go inside a pub,” he says with a grin.
I sigh. “I should really get back home. I promised Monica I’d be in bed early. Hell, you promised her that.”
“Yes, early. Early in the morning,” James corrects, his eyes glinting in the city lights.
I laugh. “I’m not dancing on any tables, remember?”
He takes a step closer to me just as a fat drop of rain bounces off my nose. “Ah, I knew you were a glutton for punishment, Laila.”
“What do you mean?”
“Accompanying me out to drink, when you said you were going to bed early.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything,” I tell him as the rain starts to come down steadily. I really need him to ring up Charles and get the car to come get us.
“Come on,” he says, his voice lower and more seductive than it was a second ago. “Let’s go have a pint.”
I look at him, his eyes on me, his expression enticing. Damn, he is a persistent one. “I really should go back. And you should too.”
“Why?” he asks, and as he does so, he takes his suit jacket off and holds it over me to shield me from the rain.
Okay. If that’s not the most chivalrous gesture, then I don’t know what is. Is he purposely trying to make me swoon, or is this really him?
“We,” I begin, trying to find the right words, “shouldn’t fraternize.”
“Fraternize?” he repeats, taking another step closer until his energy engulfs me and I’m pretty much pressed up against him. “What century are you from?”
“You know what I mean,” I say, staring up at him like I’m entranced, feeling my resolve start to weaken.
“Are you worried we’ll start sleeping together?” he says, his eyes alight as he jumps right into the awkward.
I’m not sure what expression I have on my face—probably shock—but he laughs. “I’m joking, Laila. You don’t have to look so serious. It’s just a friendly drink, nothing more.”
I’m relieved to hear that, but even so, I don’t trust myself around him, and with the rain coming down harder, I need to make a choice or we’ll get soaked.
“Come on,” he says, gesturing with his head down the street. “I know a quiet and cozy pub right there. I’ll call Charles now, and we can wait there until he comes. Deal?”
I take in a deep breath and nod. “Deal.”
Seven
LAILA
“Come on, boys, let’s go inside,” I say to Tor and Bjorn, holding my hands out for them. Usually Tor would cry at the thought of leaving his snowman-in-progress, and Bjorn would probably kick me in the shin or something in protest, but I can tell they’re getting cold and tired. The snow has been coming down steadily all day, and though it was a lot of fun playing in it at first, building igloos and snow castles and having a snowball fight, it hasn’t let up at all. If anything, I think it’s doubled down in the last hour, and my eyelashes have ice crystals on them.
The boys come over to me, Tor taking my hand while Bjorn burns past me through the snow like the Tasmanian Devil toward the front steps to the house, just as Ella is stepping out.