“Thereisno world without this,” Jon declares, a little melodramatically. “What have you even been living for?”
“I don’t know!” Asshole August cries.
“No wonder you’re so miserable,” is all I have to offer before dropping back down.
“Imagine that,” August says, coming to land with his shoulder millimetres from my own. “A world without Bon Jovi.”
He looks almost as distraught as Jon at the idea. And I love him for it.
The journey is already speeding by faster than I want it to. As soon as we get to London, it’ll be work of every kind. That’s hard enough on my own, but with six of us…
I can only hope this version of London has a fuck-off-amazing particle accelerator right in the centre of town that we can break into without too much trouble.
Or that I can keep my hands off August long enough to prevent the destruction of this universe while we try to find our way into another one.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
GOOD AUGUST
HERE I GO AGAIN
It appears I’ve turned into a sex fiend.
Or maybe I was always a sex fiend, and it just took the right guy to bring it out of me.
The wrong guy?
Either way, it’s August, and I want him to doeverythingto me.
When we get to London, he’s like a new man. Something of the person I saw in the library after he came for me. He’s so switched on, seems to know what to do at every turn. Parallels of that first night with August come to me. The sense of danger and excitement I felt being around him, wrapped up in the feeling I was also safe with him.
But now I feel safer than ever. He’s always checking on me, not that he needs to. His eyes follow me when there’s the smallest distance between us, and I love the combination blush and acknowledgement in his gaze when I catch him. This is what it is to be wanted. To be adored. It’s big things, like leaping a universe to be with me, but it’s small things, like the sweet tenderness that undercuts everything he does.
He gets us all across town to St. John’s Wood, and I’m wholly occupied picking out the differences between this new world andmine. The cars draw my attention. They’re similar, but of more bulbous design. They’re all white, every single one of them, like this world never thought of another paint colour. But when I look closer, I realise they’re all made by the same manufacturer, every single car.
I’m so busy staring I walk smack-bang into the arm he holds up to quiet us. Then I realise where we are. “Wait, is this… Is this our cafe?”
He grins across at me. ‘Our cafe.’ I wouldn’t even have noticed I’d said it if not for that look.
“Wait here. Stay out of sight.” He starts off across the street, then runs back. “Shit, hang on.” He pulls off his sweater, rolls his shirt sleeves a little, then swishes his hair across to the side. “Do I look okay?”
Yes, he looks fucking okay. Those wrists should be outlawed. The way his belt cinches his shirt to his torso is begging me to rip it off. Why has he just done that with his hair today? I’d lick him clean if he’d let me.
“August?”
“Yep? Mmm. Mmm, yeah. Hmm. Fine.”
His brow dips. “You sure?”
“Ngghmm.” That’s a full sentence. I think. Of sorts.
He gives me an unsure half-nod thing, which is fair, then runs off across the street where he stands around in front of the cafe door looking… really cold, actually.
It’s winter in this world, like my own, and it’s honestly freezing in the too-early morning air. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets, and he starts a bit of a wander back and forth in front of the doorway.
I’m about to take his sweater over to him because I can’t imagine what he’s playing at, but then I hear footsteps echoing off the buildings. The whole group skulks back into the shadowsof the side street where he left us, only me poking my head out, desperate to see what’s going on.
It’s Kelly, the owner of the cafe in my world. Her hair is orange here. For now, at least. She walks directly to the door, where he cracks a smile and says something. They exchange a few words, him looking at his watch, like maybe he’s asking her when she opens. He rubs his arms. She looks him over and brushes some hair behind her ear. He leans against the doorway and… Is heflirtingwith her?
