BURR. FEELS FUCKING GLACIAL IN here now, I think to myself after my less than warm and fuzzy greeting from Hayden. Not that I had much to expect I suppose. It’s not like we really know anything about one another. But, bloody hell, he could have at least acknowledged my presence without a moody glower.
Benji sucks down the glass of water I handed him. He begins hiccupping and giggling to himself. “I’ve never drank wine before.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “You’re drinking water.” The bugger can’t handle his liquor, that’s quite apparent. I just hope I’m able to pour him into a cab after this.
As the auction begins, I find myself impressed by the furniture pieces being displayed for bidding. Leslie told me about Theo’s talent, but I’ve never made it over to his shop to see for myself. Their flat rests above his business, so hopefully I can see more when I pop around tomorrow.
The announcer continues rattling off numbers as a suited man carries several small wooden boxes out and places them on every few tables. He drops one on ours and Finley reaches for it first, smoothing her fingers over the glossy, nearly black wood. The announcer explains there’s a silent auction sheet inside each box. As soon as Finley places the box back in the centre of the table, I grab it to get a look.
It would seem we’re bidding on something inside the box, but I’m less concerned about the contents and more interested in the keepsake box. Based on the explanation sheet, the box comes with the winning bid. I instantly have to have it. I write down my name and fill in an exorbitant pound figure, hoping it’s enough to secure the beautifully intricate box.
I get a funny sensation and look up to see Hayden practically glaring at me, his brow furrowed in the most frustrated manner. What the hell is this guy’s problem? If I was trying to forget about the sexual chemistry I felt before, this is a right proper way of achieving it.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Benji croaks, then burps and slaps his hand over his mouth.
“Oh, fuck,” I whisper as he shoots up out of his seat and makes a mad dash for the exit. “Where the hell is he going?” I say out loud to myself. Christ, I did not intend to be someone’s babysitter tonight!
I follow Benji out of the ballroom—a bit more gracefully than him—and stroll outside to find him hunched over a waste bin, retching his guts out. “Benjiiiii,” I groan, looking away so I won’t make myself sick as well. Mustn’t smell it, Vi. Mustn’t smell it!
“You guys okay?” Leslie asks, hurrying after us.
I shake my head and gesture silently to the scene because it truly does speak for itself. I think I might even hear Benji weeping. Theo comes out next and assesses the situation.
“You can’t get him in a cab like that. The driver will take one look at him and tell you to get stuffed,” he says, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Damn, he really looks like his brother without his glasses on.
“He lives in Notting Hill,” I say, placing my hands on my hips. “It’s not terribly far. Maybe I can lump him onto the Tube?”
“The hell you can!” Leslie admonishes. “Theo, go get Hayden. He’s sober. He can take them.”
“No!” I exclaim and then rein in my reaction since Theo and Leslie gawk at me in shock. “No…Thank you, but that’s completely unnecessary. Really, I’ll figure something out.”
“Stop, Vi. It’s no trouble. Theo, go.”
Theo doesn’t hesitate before he takes off back into the ballroom. Oh, God, this is going to be awkward. “I really wish you’d just let me figure this out, Leslie. I’m a big girl.”
“I know you are, but that’s what friends are for!” she says, gazing over at Benji apologetically. “Poor bastard. Your heart was in the right place.”
“Yeah, well, don’t feel too sorry for him. It was self-inflicted.”
A moment later, Hayden and Theo are outside and Hayden does not look pleased. Annoyance is written all over his features as our eyes connect.
“Thanks, Hayden. Our hero with a chariot!” Leslie sings with glee.
Hayden’s eyes narrow on me. “I hope he doesn’t vomit in the car.” He hands the keys to the valet, who hurries off to bring the car around.
“See! This is a bad idea, Leslie. We can’t have him mucking up anybody’s car. I’ll get him on the Tube. It’s only one stop. I can manage.”
“How are you going to get him on the Tube?” Hayden huffs, his eyes roving down my entire body.
Crossing my arms over my chest self-consciously, I reply, “Don’t worry about me, mate. I’m stronger than I look.”
“Wearing that? I have a hard time believing you.” He rolls his eyes and saunters away, raking his hand through his hair.
“Hayden’s right, Vi. Let him help. Here’s a bag just in case.” Leslie hands me a clear plastic baggie that I pray Benji doesn’t end up needing because he won’t be the only one needing a bag in the car if that’s the case.
“I gotta get back in, babe,” Theo says. “Mum wants me to say something when they finish auctioning my pieces.”
“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. 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 you 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.”
“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 navigates the streets to the neighbourhood 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 silent tension.
“Of 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 friendly.”
“You didn’t do anything,” he mumbles and offers nothing more on the subject.
When we arrive at Benji’s flat, Hayden pulls up to the curb behind a black cab.
“Benji, we’re here,” I say as I get 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 to throw 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 you?” he snaps, rolling his eyes.
His impertinence angers me like crazy, so I storm off without 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 level, second door on the right,” the doorman replies, looking rather taken aback. “There’s no lift.”
Ignoring his warning, I storm up the steps as quickly as possible. Aside from tonight, 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. For that reason, 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 and 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, 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 Hayden’s chest. Then he stuns us all when he steps back and drops a 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. When Benji turns around, his eyes are completely closed. His aunt steps past me and grabs him by the arm. “Come on, Benji. 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 us. Perhaps Hayden’s charms are affecting her as well.
“I just thought. No, no. Never 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 a coworker I thought could do with a night out.”
Hayden’s brow furrows. “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?”
“Of 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 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 dying to look at his face to gauge his reaction, but I’m too scared. 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 tightly. 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 raise 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 seems 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 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 want to, 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 again 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 regarding Hayden. I’m not sure I’ve been this intrigued by a male in 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 do you care to know more about?”
“You,” I blurt out.
He doesn’t seem to like my 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 they open.
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 shinning through his dishevelled spiky hair and gives him a tasty glow. I glance down to see the green light is reflecting on 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 an 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 that one word uttered from his perfectly shaped mouth instantly made him hot to me again. Okay, fine. He never stopped being hot. But with the way he’s been 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, feeling mortified once again. So much for a Hulk smash.
“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not quite going home yet.”
His scowl returns as his jaw shifts back and forth in obvious annoyance. “What 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 on Wednesday, and I still haven’t had my cake. There’s a bakery around the corner that closes in five minutes. 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.”