He followed me, quick on my heels. “I’ll help you find her if you join me for a water first.”
I looked at him with heavy eyes. “Pay for me to go home and I will.”
“Home?” he asked, blinking. “England?”
“Yeah,” I said, the music getting louder with each step. “I want to go home.”
“We’re in the UK next week,” he said at my side.
I ignored him and opened the double doors. The music was far louder, a remix that would loosen my muscles.
“If you want to go home now, we’ll get you home. But a water first.”
At the bar, he got us two bottles of water and a packet of salt and vinegar crisps. “Let’s go and talk,” he said, guiding me to a stairwell. I wasn’t complaining, my hands in the bag, my mouth already full. The stairwell was cooler than the club and only lit by the window above the door. The strobe lights from the dance floor lit the room for quick flashes before casting us back in darkness.
I sat on the third step up, not offering him the bag.
“I want to talk to you,” he said and crouched before me.
I avoided eye contact, focusing on scarfing down the food in the little light we had.
“Can we?”
I nodded, tried, and failed to open my bottle with my greasy hands. I gave it to him. He cracked it open in a second, removed the cap and handed it back.
After downing half the bottle, I demanded, “I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen.”
He nodded eagerly.
“This was a mistake and we should end it,” I said, looking down at the bottle. “I can’t risk my job. I can’t keep putting out fires for you that you are knowingly igniting.”
He stiffened but was silent, waiting for me to continue.
I didn’t, though, because I hated every word that might come from my mouth.
His brows lowered an inch, but he didn’t look at me. He stood and then sat on the step below me. “A lot to unpack there.”
He gestured for my phone and I unlocked it before passing it to him. He went on Instagram and signed in to his account. Before doing the same with Twitter. WithTikTok. Every social media account he had.
As he typed his password, he said, “You’re right, I know it. I just— I was defensive because I was worried you would want to end this if someone caught on. I really don’t want to end this. If anything…” He turned to face me, blue eyes desperate. “Do you really think we’re a mistake?”
I went to speak and stopped, instead I took another sip of my drink.
“I like you,” I whispered. “And I’ve just… I’ve been through so much in the last year that I can’t go through any more… any more…”
“Upset?” he suggested, before joining me on my step.
I nodded.
“I have no intention of upsetting you,Livie,” he said softly. “You think you like me? I promise that I like you more. You could upset me a hell of a lot more than I could upset you.” His smile became a bashful grin and he knocked my shoulder with his. Looking up at his beaming expression, he bent to press a kiss on my nose. “Look at us, a couple of kids in the playground talking about our feelings.” He chuckled and snaked his arm around my shoulders.
“Did I… Did I upset you yesterday?”
He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, brows down, thoughtful. “I did not like the thought of you and Frank together. Not one bit.”
“Because he’s your rival?”
He snorted with a deep laughter. “What? No. Nothing to do with bikes. Everything to do with you.”
