“Do you want to watch something together?” His question takes me by surprise. There’s the sound of glasses clanking and a tap running. “I mean not together, together. But I’ll put it on here and you do the same there.”
Oh. I was not expecting that suggestion, but I can’t deny how much I love the idea.
“Absolutely,” I reply, that buzzing under my skin intensifying. “Give me two minutes.”
Tucking my phone against my ear, I rush into my bedroom and drag the duvet off the bed, taking it back to the sofa. Once I’m settled, I turn on the loudspeaker and rest the phone on my chest.
“What are we watching?” I ask once I’m comfy.
“You pick. I don’t have a television, but I’ve recently subscribed to a few streaming services on my laptop.”
“Okay. What do you have?”
We scroll through a few options before settling onThe Greatest Showman. It’s my favourite film and one Oliver hasn’t seen.
We don’t get through much of the film before I’m fighting a losing battle with my heavy eyelids, but when I wake up four hours later, the sun already rising in the sky, bringing with it another hot summer’s day, the call is still connected.
“You still there?” I ask, mouth dry with that morning-after-too-much taste.
Oliver yawns. “Yeah, angel. I’m here.”
My cheeks flood with heat at the nickname. I like it. A lot. Rolling onto my back, I stare at the ceiling, my heart hammering wildly as I replay the word, hoping I’ll get to hear him say it again.
Chapter 9
Oliver
Angel.
Fuck. Me.
In my defence, it was really early, and I’d barely slept. And yes, maybe in the few minutes I let myself drift off, I dreamt of Darius. So when his voice came through the speaker, and I was half in, half out of sleep, I had no control over the words that spilled past my lips.
I ended the call shortly after, with the excuse of needing to shower and charge my phone. Darius followed up the call with a text, inviting me over to his place later in the day. Now, I’m approaching his fancy as fuck apartment, a protein shake in one hand and a pizza box in the other. As I reach the glass door at the front of the building, a man looks up from behind a marble desk. He comes around and opens the door for me.
“Good afternoon. Can I help you?”
“Ah, I’m here to see Darius.”
He nods. “Yes, Mr Thorne-Sutton said he was expecting a guest. Come and sign in.” The man, who I presume is the concierge, leads me to his desk. I give him my name and he hands me a slimline tablet. I sign in the correct spot using the attached stylus and hand it back to him, then he leads me to a bank of lifts, calling one with a keycard. There’s no numbers on the panel inside. Only a button lit up green, with the letter P in the centre and an emergency alarm.
“Jesus,” I mumble once the doors slide closed. “How rich is he?”
I grew up middle class. Nice holidays, midrange brand trainers, a reasonable allowance when I did my chores. Never in my life have I experienced wealth like this – private elevators, penthouse apartments, doormen in white gloves and top hats.
My shock only intensifies when the doors part and I step directly into a foyer bigger than my entire bachelor flat. Darius is waiting for me, leaning against a column that separates the entryway from the rest of the place.
He looks fucking adorable in pink shorts and a yellow t-shirt with a penguin motif on the front. The sea bird is holding a bouquet and is wearing sunglasses. It’s ridiculous but also so perfectly him. He’s finished his outfit with a backwards cap and that, along with his dimpled smile, sends a wave of warmth through me that travels south at an alarming rate.
Get yourself under control, Ollie.
“Angel, huh?” Darius’s eyes glint with mischief.
Blood reroutes itself to my cheeks.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” I hold the pizza out for him.
“If you say so, puppy. But I know what I heard.” He takes the box from me. “Come on, let me give you the grand tour.” I follow Darius from the foyer and into a large open plan lounge-cum-dining room. The space hosts a black L-shaped leather sofa,a screen that takes up an entire wall and a glass topped coffee table on one side. Throw pillows in a rainbow of colours cover the sofa, and the art on his walls is bright and vibrant. There are a lot of penguins, too. Photos, drawings, sewn onto cushions and covering an enormous dark wood bookshelf.
