“Really? Because we both know you like sleeping with blond lawyers.” I stick up two fingers to the phone in a silent curse. “I guess your talk about not seeing other women was time zone specific.”
“We obviously don’t know that since I finished with the last one the first chance I got with you.”
“Oh yeah,” I reply, dripping in sarcasm. “Because leggy blond lawyers aren’t your type.”
“No, I prefer hotheaded foul-mouthed brunettes who never run a brush through their hair, take mice to dinner parties and sleep in beds so damn uncomfortable and tiny, I’ve had to go to a physio.”
“You say I’m the moody one,” he continues. “but you jump to assumptions and don’t ask me. Then you act out.”
“Act out? I’m not a child.” I snap. “Stop patronising me.” “Then stop acting like one.” he grits out.
“Look, I’m giving you more than I’ve given anyone in years. I’m putting my closest friendship on the line here for you. What more do you want from me?”
“How am I supposed to feel?” I grumble. “You don’t show me any emotion. You never message kisses.”
“You want me to message a kiss to you?” he sighs impatiently. “That’s what you’re pissed at?”
“The bombshell from the article is really your lawyer?” “Yes, Charlie. My heavily married lawyer.” There’s a long pause.
“Are you going to be in the flat between 4 -5 today?” “Why?” I ask curiously.
“There’s a new bed arriving. I’m not lying on that heap of planks again.” “You bought me a new bed?” I splutter.
“Don’t get excited,” he shouts over some type of announcement like he’s in a train station. “It’s not as big as mine. I’d never get that into your flat” There’s more background noise.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Heathrow.”
He’s back? He’s in the UK?
“Why? Weren’t you supposed to fly home tomorrow?”
“I changed my flight” He chuckles. “There’s a new bed I need to try out.”
***
“Hey.” I tilt my chin up to meet his gaze.
There are bags under his eyes, and he has that disheveled plane hair and clothes thing going on. My grin widens. He looks like shit, and it’s because he flew home early for me.
“I was forced to fly standard class,” he mutters. “First class was all taken. So you better take care of me now.”
“Poor baby.”I roll my eyes unsympathetically as we walk up the stairs to my flat. “That new bed better fucking be here. Or I’m turning around and walking out that door.” “Am I not worth lying on broken planks of wood?” I pout.
“I’ve lost a full night’s sleep.” He hisses, “No Charlie, not even you are worth that tonight.”
I hit him. “It’s here. Come have a look.”
We walk into the bedroom where Suze, Cat, and Julie are sprawled across the new bed. Danny releases a soft groan beside me.
“Ladies.”
“This bed is amazzzzzzing.” Cat rolls around on it, and Danny curses a bit louder.
“I searched for this bed online.” Julie eyeballs him. “These beds cost two grand.”
“Two grand?” I shriek, turning to him. “You did not pay two grand for a new bed for me?”
“I thought I was buying it for you.” He eyes them. “Didn’t realise it was actually for the whole
flat.”
“Feel free to kit the whole house out if you want,” Julie says wryly.
“You better not let your mother into your bedroom again, Charlie,” Suze says. “Or Tristan. They’ll be at you like hawks wondering why you forked out on this luxury.”
“Damn,” Danny flinches. “I didn’t think that through.”
“Your dirty little secret will have to come out sometime,” Julie smirks, and I glare at her. “Can the three of you fuck of now?” I hiss at them, shooing them off the bed like geese.
Two hours later, we are sitting in my favourite Indian restaurant around the corner.
I love this place, but I’m usually in elasticated trousers ready for a food coma rather than a leather pants and bra number. As soon as we heard Danny was flying home early, Julie forced me to up the antics. I’m wearing a leather ensemble that Stevie forced Cat to buy.
She says she hasn’t worn it yet, and I really hope she’s not lying because the leather is chafing so high up my crack, I think it might slice me in two.
“It’s good, right?” I say, shoving more korma into my mouth. “I know it’s not your typical exclusive Mayfair restaurant where the food is telescopic portions at shameless prices. This place is inclusive. Sweatpants, PJs, anything is allowed.”
He chuckles. “I’m not a princess, Charlie. I go to expensive restaurants if the food deserves it, for no other reason. I grew up in a country that eats deep-fried pizzas, remember.” I roll my eyes.
“I don’t believe that for a second,” I say as I shuffle my backside on the chair in an attempt to move the leather. This stuff is really itchy. In hindsight, I could have put it on after the meal; it’s not like I was planning to strip down in the restaurant.
“You ok?” He asks as I cross and uncross my legs in an attempt to scratch the itch. Argh.
“Great,” I mutter, resisting all urge to take my fork and scratch my inner tight until all leather has disintegrated.
“Is deep-fried pizza actually nice?” I wrinkle my nose.
“Delicious. Although with mum being a vegan nut, it was a rarity when I was allowed it.” “I never hear you talk about your parents,” I say softly, reaching across the table to take his hand.
His breathing catches.
“When you stop making new memories, you find yourself talking about the person less.” “What was she like?” I ask tentatively.
His face sags, and I instantly regret pushing him out of his comfort zone.
“It’s ok,” I say quickly. “We can change the subject.”
He gazes out the window for a minute, then he turns to me fully.
“You two share some similar traits.” He gives a short sad laugh. “What does that say about me, hey? Mammy issues.”
He continues. “She was creative, fun, the life and soul of the party.”
“She loved to sing. She used to sing in a band around the pubs in Glasgow.” His tone darkens. “Until that prick stopped her.” “Your dad,” I whisper.
“I don’t call him that.” He replies gruffly, staring into his beer. “She would have liked you.”
“I’m pleased.” I smile. “Do you think that’s what made you so determined to become successful? The…. accident?”
“It was no accident.” He mutters darkly. “I became successful because I didn’t have anything else going for me. All I had left was my grandmother and Karl.”
I nod. “That’s why Tristan means so much to you.”
He lets out a small laugh. “Yes, for some reason, Tristan took a liking to me. I wasn’t like you in uni. I didn’t drink. I was reserved and sullen, I stayed away from people. But he stuck with me regardless. So yeah… I’m worried about how he’ll react if he finds out… about us.”
He closes his eyes with a dark exhale.