I can do this. I repeat to myself as the cab pulls up to the large, Victorian house I’ve seen in the photos my best friend has sent me. The house is amazingly beautiful, with grey, stone walls and big, arched windows. It looks like something out of a damn fairy tale and not a house just outside a small, English village. I forgot how cold England is compared to France, I think as I pull my coat closer around myself and wish the cab driver had put the heating on in the car.

"Here you go, love," the cab driver says as I snap out of my daze, and I hand him the money for the ride. The driver helps me get my one suitcase full of clothes out of the boot before driving off. I hope Izzy is home. I think of my best friend who lives here, sometimes, when she isn't with her boyfriend, and I can’t wait to see her. I remind myself that it doesn't matter if she isn't in because undoubtedly one of her brothers could point me in her direction. 

I straighten my back, as I raise my hand to knock on the massive, wooden door, but it's suddenly pushed open by a handsome man. The man is wearing nearly all black-leather and has slightly long, messy, black hair covering his stern-looking face. He is struggling to hold two boxes under one arm, and my hand just misses his face as he dodges to the side, but, unfortunately, one of the boxes drops to the ground, with a sound like glass smashing. 

"Shit," the man says in a deep voice.

"I'm so sorry," I mutter quickly putting my hand down. Great first impression, almost hitting one of the King brothers in the face.

"Who are you?" the man asks bluntly, making me feel a little defensive. It's not like I meant to nearly hit him in the face and make him drop his box. 

"I'm looking for Izzy," I say, matching his tone, and the man looks amused for a second. I'm confident that he isn't going to tell me as he stares me down, holding onto the last box for dear life when I hear Izzy shout behind him. 

"Who's that?" 

The man moves out of the way, and I see the welcome sight of Izzy running to me. She pushes the man out of the way, causing the last box to hit the floor with a bigger bang. 

Izzy wraps herself around me in a big hug that I return, barely holding in my tears at finally being able to see my best friend after so many years. Izzy is like the sister I never had, and damn, I’ve missed her.

"Tilly, what the hell are you doing here?" Izzy asks pulling back to look at me. I look at her, too, noticing the changes. Not enough that I don’t recognise her, but enough that I have to pause a second. Her hair is just as long and blonde as before, but she has it up in a high ponytail with highlights running through it. The jumper and jeans she has on look made for her, she looks fantastic and happy. I know she is happy from her messages and phone calls, but seeing it is something else. 

"Long story," I mutter not wanting to ruin this moment by thinking about the reason I’m here unannounced and with only one bag. Even thinking of France leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

"I knew you would drop one," a deep, sexy-sounding voice says with a laugh as a man comes into the now-crammed hallway. Luckily, the house is big. Damn, I can't take my eyes off this guy. He is tall, way over six foot, with long, brown hair pulled together loosely at the back of his head. His startling green eyes, much like Izzy’s, latch onto mine, and neither of us look away. He must be the oldest brother. Harley, if I remember right. I wish I had looked at those photos Izzy sent me of them.

Harley looks a little confused as he asks, "Who is this?" 

I don’t say anything as I stare, and I swear I’m actually speechless as I check out his tight suit and the fantastic body that fills it. Izzy clears her throat, making me look back at her after a long silence between us all. When I see her small smile, I grin because I’m so happy to see her again. Izzy pulls me into the hallway, out of the cold.

"I kind of need a place to stay. It's just for a few weeks till I find somewhere to rent. My family isn't moving here for two months, and it’s a long story," I say to Izzy who smiles as her green eyes widen. I’m happy she doesn’t ask why, but I know she will the moment we are alone. As much as I trust her, I have no idea if I can even talk about everything yet. Even to Izzy.

"You can stay with me," she says, practically jumping up and down as she pulls me into a hug.

"Sorry, beauty, she can't. Allie’s room is already rented out, and I signed the contract. I forgot to tell you," a tall, blonde man, who I recognise from Izzy’s photos, says coming to stand next to Izzy, while I look him up and down. Damn, Izzy is a smart girl. He is hot with a muscular build and a small waist. He has this whole surfer look going on. Standing next to Izzy, they look like the perfect, California, blonde couple. Like they should be advertising surfboards or something.

"Good choice," I whisper to Izzy, making her laugh.

"She can stay here; Elliot's room is empty, now, and we have others," Harley says, making everyone look towards him, including me. I don't think he ever stopped looking at me, and it's making me want to squirm under the pressure of his gaze. It's like he knows what I'm running from, and that scares me because no one can know. I ran from France, and from that man, so that people wouldn’t know. I only need a place to stay for a little while until my family comes here, and I hope I’m strong enough to tell them. The thought of telling them anything is making me feel sick.

"I can stay in a hotel. I don't want to put anyone out," I say, knowing that my tone is sounding as nervous as I feel. 

"I insist," Harley says, and I know he isn't asking, now. The man is powerful, and I'm smart enough to know I need to be somewhere safe for a little while just in case my past finds me. This could be a good place to hide, to make sure he doesn’t find me. There’s no doubt he will look into my old home and find out I was friends with Izzy. I’m just hoping none of Izzy’s past can find her here.

"Well thanks, I’ll pay rent, of course," I say, knowing that I have more than enough to pay for a little while. I was lucky that my career is going well enough that I can dip into my savings, but I know long term, I need to plan things out. 

"No, you won't. Izzy can sort out bed sheets for you," Harley says with one more look at me before walking away. I stand in shock for a second, before realising that I can’t do that. I won’t owe any man anything again.

"Hey! I will!" I shout at his back as he disappears out of the room, and I hear a chuckle from Harley in the kitchen, damn if his laugh isn't sexy, too.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Tilly. Izzy has told me all about you since she came here," the man with the boxes says, holding out a hand for me to shake.

"You must be Elliot" I guess, remembering Izzy sending me photos of him next to a bike. I shake his hand with a friendly smile which he returns, well almost.

"I'm Blake, but you've guessed that," Izzy’s boyfriend says as I let go of Elliot’s hand and look over at him. 

"Yeah from the fact that missy, over here, has sent me pictures of everyone. That was Harley, right?" I ask, gesturing to the kitchen area. I knew he was good-looking from the photos, but they didn’t do him justice. He is hella hot in person, too.

"Yes, but tell me all about France and why you're here early," Izzy is practically bouncing up and down in excitement as she talks, making me laugh. I did miss her.

"Come on, then," I smile and mentally rerun my excuse for being here, over and over in my head. It’s not that I don’t trust her, but I just can’t tell her now. I hate lying, but I just can't tell her or anyone. Not yet.

She takes my hand leading me into a big, living room area. It's fitted with three leather sofas and a big, old fireplace in the middle of the room. The room has light-brown walls that match the dark wooden flooring that is throughout the house by the looks of it. There are two bookcases by the big window filled with old-looking books that I will have to have a look at, and the window shows off the impressive garden full of flowers. Izzy pulls my arm, so I sit down next to her on one of the sofas, and starts asking me questions a mile a minute.

"So, why did you come earlier? Why not wait? Are you okay? Why didn't you call me?" 

"Beauty, maybe let her speak first," Blake interrupts with a smile at Izzy who looks over at him and then sits on the opposite sofa to us.

"Yes, sorry, I’m just so happy to see you. Video chats, phone calls, and emails aren’t enough," Izzy says with a little blush, and I squeeze her hand.

"No, I get it, and it's just work. I have a new client, and it was easier to meet him here than fly back home," I lie, well slightly. I do have a new author who needs edits done and wants to meet, but I don't need to meet her to edit her book. I can always video call if needed. 

"Right." Izzy raises an eyebrow at me reminding me how she always knew when I was lying when we were younger. I know she is about to call me on it, but I shake my head softly, and she squeezes my hand. I have no doubt she will demand to know everything later, but for now, she is letting it go. 

"What do you do for work?" Blake asks into the silence of the room, changing the subject. 

"I’m an editor. I work for myself, which is nice, and I've edited one book that's now an international bestseller," I say, smiling at the thought of how lucky I got with that author. It’s been challenging to set up a client base, but I’m now fully booked for the next two months, and more and more orders are coming in. I also design book covers as an additional job, but it takes too much time when I would rather be editing.

"That's really impressive Tilly," Blake smiles. At that moment, a wave of sickness hits me hard like it has been doing all damn week. I know I have to eat something or I will end up throwing up. I rip my bag open to find my ginger biscuits and get two out. I glance up to see Izzy and Blake looking confused as I eat the second biscuit.

Damn another lie, it’s not like I can't tell them the truth, so I say, "Sorry, I haven't eaten all day, and well, I get sick if I don't eat." 

"Okay, no worries. How about I go and cook us some breakfast?" Blake asks, still looking a little worried as he and Izzy share a strange look. 

"Thanks, I would like that," I answer, and he kisses Izzy on the head as he walks out.

"You going to tell me the truth, now?" Izzy asks the moment the door shuts.

"No, and please just let me talk to you in my own time. I can't. I just can't," I say, breaking into a sob that I can't control. The last two weeks have been so hard to stay strong and get here. The last week has been a nightmare of finding my way here and making sure I couldn’t be followed. My family must have been so worried when they saw the note I left them. I will call them soon when I can tell them.

Izzy pulls me into her arms and says, “I don’t care why you’re here, but when you’re ready, we will talk because I'm worried. I love you, Tilly, you’re my sister, even if we're not related."

I nod wiping my eyes as I pull away.

"I will, I promise," it's not like I can’t tell her, as in a few months, she will guess. Izzy’s phone rings, and she gets it out of her jean pocket.

“Luke, Tilly is here!” she says when she answers. “You remember Tilly? The girl I grew up with, the one who went to France?” She pauses to listen, then continues, “That’s brilliant, and okay, tell him congrats. Yeah, that’s great.” There’s another small pause before she responds again. “Okay, see you soon and I will, bye,” she says and puts the phone down. “Luke says hi.”

She beams at me. "Look you met Elliot, right? Well, he just got news that he can open his new club this Saturday. Do you want to go? It will be great, and maybe you might meet someone," Izzy says with a wink.

But, the thought of finding anyone at the moment only has the adverse effect of reminding me of my ex. “Sounds good,” I say.

“Let’s go and make sure Blake hasn’t burnt the kitchen down.” She laughs, holding a hand out for me.