An hour did me in. I reset the alarm and left via the back door, a tension headache banded tight around my skull. Fuck, I hated the banality of where I’d come from.
Clapham Common made me feel better, but the address on Megan’s list was vacant. Deflated, I headed to Tottenham, but the bustling streets I found there gave me a boost. It was an area I often drifted to after time with my parents in Hampstead Heath. I had no personal links to the borough, but I felt at home. Like, if my place wasn’t in the woods, perhaps it was here.
I carried the notion like a security blanket, wrapping it tight around me as familiar landmarks added an extra layer of protection. The halal burger bar, the betting shop, the boozer where I’d picked up that dude all those months ago. I rarely let myself think of Cash, though, just like I tried not to think about iPhones and flat screen TVs. Fucking him had blown my mind, reset my soul when I’d been struggling most, but he was a fantasy, a balm to draw on when loneliness hit. And it was better that way. Believing he was real was dangerous. And futile.
It wasn’t like I’d ever see him again.
Ten minutes later, I stood on the doorstep of the house I saw in my dreams.Someone somewhere is taking the piss.I wondered if I’d drifted here on instinct instead of following the directions on my phone, but when I crosschecked it, the result was the same.
Cieran Walsh lived in Cash’s house.
Chapter Four
Cash
“I’m not getting it.” I pointed the kitchen knife in Lucky’s general direction, ignoring Dom’s overprotective glare. “The only idiots who ever knock at the side door are twat-hound reporters looking for you.”
It was true. As the man Dom had given up a premiership football career to be with, the press loved Lucky, a fact he indulged to keep them away from Dom. And me, when he wasn’t being a dick.
“Put it this way,” I said when he didn’t move. “You ain’t getting dinner otherwise.”
I knew it would work. That boy was a slave to his stomach, and I enjoyed feeding him, even if the two minutes flat it took him to clear his plate reminded me that it wasn’t so long ago he’d had nothing and no one.
Lucky slid off his kitchen stool and sloped off to answer the door. I promptly forgot all about it and went back to chopping veg for dinner, so he surprised me when he reappeared a moment later, smirking.
“It’s for you.”
“What?”
“You heard.” He hopped back into his seat. “Some moody hottie who whole-named you.”
I froze, knife in hand. My name was no secret, but there was no one round these parts who’d use it on my doorstep. Everyone called me Cash, even the damn postman.
Trepidation rippled through me. Lucky didn’t seem to notice, but I felt Dom’s gaze on me as I left the kitchen. That fucker saw everything.
I slipped down the hallway to the side door. It was ajar, concealing whoever was on the other side, and my heart jumped again, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. Chances were it was some market research bullshit and they’d got my name from the electoral roll. That he was, in Lucky’s words, a hottie, was a bonus, right?
Life was never that simple. I eased the door open. At first, I saw no one, then a slim figure stepped out of the shadows, his expression grim until recognition seemed to hit him in the same moment it did me. Dark hair, moody eyes, beard, and perfect skin, dear-fucking-God, it was Rae.
Heat rushed me in the same moment suspicion shut me down. I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Rae shrugged, though my aggression didn’t seem to surprise him. “I’m looking for someone.”
“At my house?” If he’d have been a paparazzo I would’ve decked him right then. It wouldn’t have been the first time someone had approached me to get to Dom.Be the first time it’s worked, though, eh?I silenced the devil on my shoulder and moved up on Rae again. “Who are you looking for?”
“You tell me.”
“Nah, mate. That’s not how it works. You don’t get to rock up on my doorstep after—”
“After what, Cash?” Rae’s dark eyes flashed. “After a one-night hook up three months ago? Cos, I’m assuming if you’d wanted a repeat performance you’d have hit up the email address I left on your pillow.”
There were a million reasons I hadn’t responded to the note he’d left when he’d slipped away that night, and bullshit like this was just one of them. I shoved Rae hard enough to let him know I meant it. “You’ve got thirty seconds to tell me why you’re giving my name on my doorstep, or I’m kicking you down the fucking road.”
Rae stumbled, but righted himself with a grace I could only dream of. “Cash, mate. Me being here is a coincidence, but I’m starting to hope I came here looking for you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Yeah? Well maybe this will change your mind.”
