“I’m just wondering which part of that bollocks to address first.” He sits back, and I’m suddenly given an eyeful of his naked chest as he slumps against his pillows. He’s obviously in bed like me.
Then his words register and I sit up too. “It’s not bollocks,” I mutter, affronted.
“Yes, it fucking is.” He jabs a finger at me. “First of all, when have I ever said that Charnwell is like thedark ages?” The sarcasm is so heavy I cringe. “I sent you photos this morning and told you how lovely it is.”
“I know, but?—”
“And second, where exactly do you think I live?”
“Er... London?” I’m not sure why I stupidly just assumed he’d stayed there, but from the look on his face, I’m guessing I’m wrong. “No?”
He crosses his arms. “No.”
Before I can ask where he lives, he smirks. “And thirdly, what makes you think I wanted tostart somethingwith you? Maybe Iama fan of one-nighters. Maybe I wanted to fuck and be done.”
I open my mouth to reply, but... I’ve got nothing.
Nope.
Utterly fucking speechless.
Vic laughs, clearly not suffering the same problem. “The look on your face right now.” He tsks softly and shakes his head. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you got involved with some arsehole who thought all that shit about living here. And that it didn’t end well.”
I want to hide away from this topic, but I owe him an explanation after what I just wrongly accused him of. “Yeah.” I look away, fiddling with the edge of my quilt. “I wasn’t in a good place afterwards, and I... I guess it’s made me a bit cynical.”
“Just a bit,” he murmurs, but I still don’t look at him.
I thought I was over everything that happened, but clearly not. Vic is nothing like Simon. Even if Charnwell isn’t somewhere he could see himself living, he’d never belittlemefor living here. And all the other stuff I said?
Fuck.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Sean.” Vic’s voice is soft, coaxing. “Look at me.Please.”
I can’t ignore thatplease, and I look up with a sigh.
He smiles—it’s warm and encouraging and more than I deserve. “There you are.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t know why I assumed that about you.”
“It’s okay.” He settles back into the pillows again. “He must’ve really fucking hurt you.”
“He did.” To my horror, my eyes start to fill and I blink rapidly. “Fuck.” I screw them shut, not wanting him to see me fall apart. I should hang up. “I have to go?—”
“Sean,wait!”
When I look at him, his face fills the screen again. Hazel eyes so expressive I see all the emotions that pass through them. Panic, concern, desperation, finally settling on understanding. “I live in Edwinstowe,” he says. “It’s a village at the edge of Sherwood Forest.”
My lips curve. “I know where it is.”
“Then you’ll also know that it’s not exactly a sprawling metropolis. I’m surrounded by forests and green spaces. Maybe not like around here, but it definitely fucking isn’t city living.” He bites his lip. “And it’s not what I’d call long-distance either.”
No. It isn’t. “About an hour and ten?”
He shrugs. “On a good run.”
I feel like I’ve had the rug pulled out from under me.
