The man let go of me and folded his arms across his broad chest, scowl deepening.
‘No. It’s because you’re holding your stomach, and from the look on your face, appear like you’re in labour.’
I opened my mouth, quickly closing it again when a sharp pain seared through my bladder. Usually, I would be up for a verbal sparring match, but my brain was momentarily lacking in rational thought. Through gritted teeth, I told him the truth.
‘I need a wee. And it’s got to the point where I’m actually considering public indecency purely for the relief it would give me.’
He blanched, losing some of his hostility. He ran a hand through his hair, which only made the curls look more effortless, and scratched the back of his neck.
‘Right, uh, I’ll let you go then.’
Crossing my legs, I stood precariously and screwed up my face in discomfort. ‘Do you know of a bathroom nearby?’
He frowned. ‘A what?’
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Was this man thick? Physically he obviously spent a large portion of his time in a gym, something I avoided like the plague… What was appealing about getting hot and sweaty in a room full of strangers who insisted on grunting after every weight lift? I never lasted long enough to find out.
‘A room with a toilet, preferably a clean one, but right now, I’m really not picky. I’d take a porta-loo on the last day of Glastonbury right now.’ I sucked in a sharp breath.
‘I-uh,’ The man stuttered, looking helplessly around and probably regretting every decision he made this morning that led to this moment.
‘If it would help, I could tell you Iampregnant. Would that make you more inclined to help me?’
His forehead crinkled as he considered his options, and then whether giving in to common decency or growing tired of arguing with a cross-legged fool of a woman, he heaved out a sigh.
‘Come on then,’ he pushed past me, muttering something under his breath.
‘Where are you going?’ Spinning around on the spot, I stared after him.
He didn’t turn around when he called back, ‘Finding you a room with a toilet or a hole in the ground, either one will do, apparently.’
Was I seriously going to follow this total stranger?A list of possible dangers flitted through my mind. Him being a serial killer took top billing. But surely, if he were going to kill me, he would want to entice me with his charm and good looks—Ted Bundy style. Whilst he wasn’t lacking in the looks department, he certainly had a problem with charm.
My eyes darted to the phone in my hand and I realised time was evaporating. I’d rather be late than wet myself in front of a potential employer. Tardiness might be forgiven. Incontinence, most definitely would not.
The stranger wasn’t paying any attention to whether or not I was following, so I started running… okay, hobbling to keep up.
2
OLIVER
What a great start to a great fucking day. I didn’t need to look behind me to know the ball of chaos was following me. I could hear her laboured breathing and constant mutterings flowing softly behind me.
Fuck.
The one day I got up early and decided not to wallow in bottles of whiskey and TV, something had to punish me for my good intentions.
I had to give the woman some credit; needing a bathroom was a unique way of getting my attention. And I’d seen it all. Most women went with ‘sign my tits’ or ‘find me on insta’. Early in my career I was guilty of doing the last one if the girl was hot, but it never ended well. I’d waited for the flicker of recognition to pass over the woman’s face. It never did. I wasn’t quite ready to breathe a sigh of relief just yet. It wasn’t outside the realms of possibility that she was trying to get my guard down and get me alone.
Why was I even helping her again?
Right… could be pregnant. I didn’t need the tabloid rumour that I’d inadvertently caused harm to an unborn child. God, that would be a nightmare. However, her curves were accentuated, and whilst her stomach wasn’t flat, she certainly didn’t look pregnant. Plus, her snappy replies had reluctantly intrigued me.
So many people watched what they said around me or simply hurled abuse if they didn’t get the desired reaction. Her lack of filter, no doubt due to the urgency of the situation, caused me to almost crack a smile.Almost.
I rounded the corner and walked down a back alley towards the back door of my brother’s plant nursery. The subtle aroma of the dustbins that sat against the wall and the copious amounts of cigarette butts floating in dubious-looking patches of liquid made me screw my nose up.
I tilted my head a little, expecting to see her right behind me. I stopped when I noticed her standing on the street, her brown doe-eyes wide as she stared at me.
