My heart flip-flopped, like my unsuccessful pancakes from this morning were supposed to.
“You’ve already asked me that, and I already said yes.”
“I know. It’s unfair that I only get to ask you that once, though.”
Melting. So much melting.
I reached up and brushed my fingertips along his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, so the hair there was rough and masculine and unbelievably sexy. He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand the way that Hamlet did when anyone but me was playing with her. Stupid cat.
I said, “Yes. The answer will always be yes.”
He took my hand from his jaw and brushed his lips across my knuckles. My insides went as gooey as the nearly congealed breakfast the flight attendants had passed out. He kissed the ring on my third finger, and who knew the engagement ring was an erogenous zone?
“I’m going to hold you to that. I know how much you love accents, and I’m going to have much more competition in that arena here.”
I laughed. “I hadn’t even thought of that! Just think, a whole country full of British men! I could—”
He tugged me forward and silenced me in my favorite way.
“That’s not funny,” he said. “It’s bad enough that I’m about to have to share you with my family.”
Ugh. I was going to ignore that whole family thing. I’d been enough of a Debbie Downer already to last the rest of the trip.
“Remember that time we met and you said you weren’t the jealous type? Remember the time that was a big fat lie?”
Ah well. Jealousy looked really good on him.
“It wasn’t a lie. I just hadn’t ever met anyone worth getting jealous over until you.”
I slid my arms around his waist. “Are all British men such smooth talkers?”
“No. Just me.”
“And James Bond.”
“Right. Of course.”
“Fine. I guess since James is fictional, I’ll have to keep you.”
“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
“I’m not trying.”
A flight attendant tapped me on the shoulder and asked us to please prepare for landing. I guessed what she really meant was to stop molesting my boyfriend in public.
God, airlines. Stingy with the peanuts and the fun.
I wasn’t sorry, but I blushed anyway because that’s the only thing my traitorous body was good for. I faced forward, but noticed a woman sitting across the aisle staring at us. She had her elbow on the armrest and her cheek propped up on her hand, gawking at us like we were her in-flight entertainment. My small blush spread like a wildfire across my whole face and down my neck.
Maybe we had been making a bit of a scene.
Garrick didn’t seem to mind the attention, his chest bouncing with silent laughter. I flicked his arm, and tried to ignore the woman, who was still staring.
Garrick said again, “Marry me.”
Oh, now he was just showing off.
I heard the woman aww next to us, and I swear to God I expected her to pull out a bag of popcorn or something.
I flicked his arm again, and he just laughed. I leaned my head back against the seat as the plane began to slow and dip, and I tried to get my blush under control.
Garrick stayed smug beside me as we landed and taxied to the gate. I was glad we were near the front of the plane, so that we could grab our things and get away from our audience. I pulled my purse from under the seat in front of me, and moved to flee.
“Wait,” the woman said. “Aren’t you going to answer him?”
Garrick chuckled and added, “Yes, aren’t you going to answer me?”
My chin dropped, and I floundered like, well, a flounder.
He was really going to make me do this with that woman watching. And now that she’d said something, a few others were paying attention, too. I pressed my lips together, and glared at him. As an actor, I should be better at handling attention, but it was different when I was playing a part. I got to turn off my brain and think like someone else.
Reluctantly, I said, “Yes.”
“What was that, love? I couldn’t quite hear you.”
Cue eye roll. “I said yes.”
Garrick turned to the people surrounding us and practically yelled, “She said yes!”
Gradually, the cabin broke out into applause, and I threw him a look that was one part I’m-going-to-murder-you and three parts get-me-out-of-here-now-kthxbye.
Garrick soaked up the applause with a charming smile while I looked on, probably barely more attractive than a radish. I turned to flee and tripped over something. I couldn’t actually see anything, but I swear there was something.
I power-walked off the plane and resisted the urge to run down the walkway and into the terminal. Garrick caught up to me just as I passed through the door, and looped an arm around my neck.
“You know I love it when you blush.”
“And you know I hate it.”
“It reminds me of your face the second time we met, that morning in my classroom. The most inappropriate time and place to ever be turned on, but you’ve got a take-no-prisoners kind of blush. My body didn’t give me much of a choice.”
He was only saying that to make me blush more. You would think that I’d be a bit more comfortable talking about sex, now that I’d had it and all. You would also think that at my age I would be able to successfully insert the straw into a Capri Sun juice pouch. I was 0–2 there.
So I let him enjoy my embarrassment. And I enjoyed the way his side was pressed against mine. Fair trade.
3
Garrick
I WAS STILL a bit bleary-eyed as we waited through the long line for immigration, then picked up our bags, and passed through customs. Bliss vaulted between exuberance and silence, more of the latter, as we got closer to our final destination.
Outside the airport, I tucked Bliss under my arm, needing to feel her, to feel some sort of control as her panic began to bleed into me. I was halfheartedly trying to flag down a taxi to take us to my parents’ place in Kensington when I heard someone shout, “Taylor! Garrick Taylor! Look over here, you prat!”
Bliss had already stopped and was staring at two idiots down the pavement, yelling and waving their arms. The first idiot had dark skin and a buzzed head that had been covered in dreads the last time I’d seen him. That would be Rowland. And paired with the second idiot, Graham, who looked enough like me to pass for my brother (a scam we’d used more than once when we were kids), they meant trouble.
I passed a hand through my hair and smiled. “Bloody hell.”
What in the world were they doing here?
“Friends of yours?” Bliss asked.
“Very old friends.”
Bliss and I turned around our luggage and barely made it a few meters before Rowland was tackling me.
“Ricky!” he yelled, messing with my hair.
I heard Bliss say, “Ricky?” over my shoulder before I shoved Rowland off. Glaring, I said, “That nickname wasn’t okay in secondary, and it isn’t okay now.”
Graham said, “Oh, come on, brother. At least let him have a little fun. You’ve not visited in ages. Though I can see why.”
I didn’t have to look to know he was staring at Bliss. Not only did Graham and I look alike—tall, blond hair, blue eyes—but we had the same taste in women. I had mostly been joking with her earlier about finding another guy, but now it wasn’t so funny. I shook my head at him and pulled her closer to me.
“Bliss, these two gits are my old mates, Rowland and Graham. We came up together. And this is my fiancée, Bliss.”
God, it felt good saying that.
“Her name is Bliss? Or is that your nickname for her because she’s really good in—”
“Rowland,” I warned.
He shrugged and shot Bliss a cheeky smile. She was grinning at both of them, her cheeks a brilliant red. And as good as it was to see them, I was not even remotely keen on sharing her.
I asked, “What are you lot doing here?”
Rowland said, “We phoned your dad and told him to tell your mum that your flight had been delayed by a few hours.”
“Why would you do that?”
Graham grinned in Bliss’s direction and said, “Because we wanted to meet your girl . . . before your mum tore her to pieces.”
I saw the blood drain from her face, and she went from red to white in seconds. Well, there went the last of her calm.
“Garrick!” Her hand connected with my arm, and then again with my chest.
Throwing a glare at Graham, I caught her hands and pulled her close.
“He’s joking, love. It’s all going to be fine.”
Please let it be fine.
“Or after a few pints with us, it will be, anyway,” Rowland cut in.
“It’s the middle of the day,” I said.
Rowland shrugged. “We’ll make sure there’s some food had somewhere in there.”
Bliss had her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at me. She looked so bloody hot when she was angry that I almost didn’t mind.
I said, “Thank you both for coming. And for managing to piss my future bride off in record time. But it was a long flight. I should probably just get Bliss home.”
When I reached, her hand flitted out of my range and then came back to poke me in the chest. “Oh no you don’t, Mr. Taylor.” I heard Rowland laugh behind me. She continued, “You are not depriving me of the chance to gather some much needed liquid courage or to question your friends.”
Graham whistled. “I like this one.”
That much was uncomfortably clear.
I met her eyes, and she wasn’t backing down. I pressed my lips together into a thin line, but her eyebrows just rose in answer.
“Fine. Okay.” I turned to my old friends and added, “One drink. With food. One hour. That’s it.” They held up innocent hands in surrender, and started leading us down the pavement.
Over his shoulder, Graham said, “Damn, Taylor. Did teaching suck all the fun out of you?”
“Something got sucked while he was teaching.”
I shoved Rowland from behind, and he launched forward several feet, cackling.
“What?” Bliss asked. “What did he say?”
“Nothing. Just being a prick.”
Rowland kept his distance as he led us to the same old Peugeot he’d been driving the last time I’d lived in London nearly eight years ago. It was funny how little some things and some people changed.
I’d changed . . . that much was for sure. In turns, I’d been just as elitist and judgmental as my parents or I’d rebelled and battled that with tremendous levels of stupidity and trouble. It was only in the last two years that I’d started to feel like I’d finally found a reasonable middle ground. I could only pray to find something similar today with my parents. I could only pray that this whole trip wouldn’t blow up in my face.
I helped Bliss into the backseat, and then turned to Graham before sliding in after her. He didn’t just look like a brother to me; he’d felt like one for most of my life, too. And when I left this city, I’d left that friendship, too. I’d only just recently reached out to him to reconnect.