“You’ll just have to wait and see”
****
“Notting Hill?” Looking at him for confirmation.
“Yes, our next stop to easing up-the-pain-strategy.” He smirked when he said easing.
Ha.
I would rather forget that embarrassing incident in the car just before breakfast.
Parked the car in gear, got out and opened the car door for me. I smiled. “Hummingbird?” I gleefully asked.
“As you wish, milady,” he did that with a little bow. That gesture put me in mild hysterics. He has his fair share of a good sense of humor. This is why we are friends, we can act silly and have fun.
We found the bakery by just walking about on a Sunday afternoon and both fell in love with it. We both like to indulge our sweet tooth. So, once in awhile, we come here to indulge. Though on a special occasion like when it’s the time of the month for me, he brings me a box of cupcakes to cheer me up. How thoughtful is that?
Grabbing my hand and pulling me next to him, we strolled along, passing clothing boutiques and antique places. Notting Hill is a gem. They have a lot of funky trendy stores and a lot of just about any knick-knacks you can ever imagine. It was awesome!
We made our way to Hummingbird Bakery that makes these delicious, mouth-watering cupcakes. Each perfect bite puts me in sheer bliss. Still holding hands, he guided me inside the shop.
Ogling those beautifully decorated, earth-shattering pieces of ambrosia with yearning eyes, my mouth salivated.
Blake ordered a red-velvet and chocolate chip to be eaten outside on the patio and ordered a dozen more to take home. Oh, yum! You see how intuitive he is? Ha!
“Let me pay for this one,” I ordered.
He gave me a ‘shut-the-hell-up’ look.
I huffed and turned around as he paid for the cupcakes. It was always like this with Blake and Toby. They get offended if you offer to pay. Some men would gladly appreciate the offer. These men expect women to pay half of everything, but those two still believe that as men, they have to take care of the ladies. They feel insulted if I keep trying to ask.
Found a table for two and waited for my cupcakes to arrive. Sitting, I basked in the sunshine and the warmth hitting my face.
“Here we are!” announcing as he placed two of my favorite cupcakes in front of me. He cuts the cupcakes four-ways. We have a ritual, because we both love these flavors, so we agreed to a compromise, eating them half and half. It was kind of cute.
He took a piece of red-velvet and tried to feed me. I opened my mouth, closed my eyes and savored the flavor.
I’m a passionate person, especially when it comes to food.
“Mmmm, yes!” I purred in satisfaction.
He laughed, “I knew you wouldn’t be mad for long,” giving me his god-like smile again and he placed his ray-bans atop his wavy hair. I looked away. He looked too tempting and when he smiles like that, I have this urge to stare at him and just worship him right then and there.
It’s very disconcerting to feel this way sometimes. It catches me off guard.
He’s a great friend, a flirt, but a great friend nonetheless. So, when he acts a certain way—holding my hand and smiling at me—like I’m the only person in the world that mattered.
It confuses the shit out of me.
My phone beeped.
I took it out of my purse and checked the message.
Kyle.
Heart-thudding, I opened the message.
Nine
From: Kyle Matthews
I came over to Jen’s to check if u were there last night and found out u went back to London. Why? Did u leave ‘coz of me? Wanted to speak to you. WE HAVE TO TALK about what happened. About us. Call me. Seeing u again made me realize how much u mean to me, Sienna.
I’ll be waiting for your call.
I miss u,
Kyle
Shit. How do I reply to that? He sounded guilty as hell.
Well, he should after he treated me so crassly and no thoughts to my feelings. I remembered it clearly. He just took what he wanted and my feelings, again, pushed aside.
“Sienna… what is it?” I turned off the screen and slid it back to my purse.
I sighed heavily, “Kyle…he wants to talk.”
“Are you going to?” looking at me, pensive, unreadable.
“No, I’m not giving that jerk the satisfaction.” I said with decisiveness and clear voice. I made up my mind.
As much as it kills me to admit, I still hurt.
What hurts more was the fact that he dated her a month before breaking it off with me. He didn’t even have a decency to end things before saddling himself up to someone else.
And to put icing on the cake, he had sex with me and still went back to her.
And now he wants to talk? The nerve!
“What’s up next?” studying his unreadable expression. He grabbed my hand and played the inside of my palm with his middle finger—in a slow, agonizing, fever-inducing in rhythmic circles.
He’s touching me a lot today. He never used to, I mean apart from the usual greeting of kisses, hugs, and the nudges here and there—nothing as personal as this. I was afraid to ask him, so I pretended it didn’t bother me, like we do this all the time.
“It’s a surprise, poppet. I’m sure you will figure it out soon enough.”
Getting up and hooking my left arm on his, we strolled back to where his car was parked.
Walking at a leisurely pace, my thoughts raced back to Kyle. Was it cold of me to not bother replying to his email? We’ve been through a lot and I considered him family. My mom died giving birth to me and my dad died when I was the age of seven. From what I recall of my dad, he was a loving man, giving and adored me. He used to talk about mom all the time and how they loved me since I was conceived.
Dad had a heart attack. No one had seen it coming, it was sudden and swift. And all of a sudden, I was alone. I remember the conservator consoling and assuring me that my father was a wise man and had invested the insurance he got from my mother’s death shrewdly and there’s more coming from my dad’s insurance policy amongst other investments he delved in. My dad made sure I had a college fund atop everything else.
He basically thought it out accordingly, just in case he dies. I received partial of his social security money to tide me over until I turn eighteen, the legal age where I take over my own spending and can handle all my finances.
At that time, I could care less about money because all I wanted was my dad.
My father’s sister, Christy, took me in. She has a husband, Dan, and a daughter a year older than me, Caroline. It was hell living in the Brown’s household. I was the interloper who basically ruined their neat consistent lives.