She took over, pressing me up against the building, probably annoying the women on a smoker’s break, but I wasn’t about to tell her off. Betty could do as she pleased in this moment.
She pulled back, breathless. “I’m sorry. I just… I?—”
“You don’t have to say anything. I’ve wanted to do that since I got in a cab.”
She bit her lip. “Shall we get another cab, then?”
“You’re cute. There is zero chance we will get one organically here. I could call an Uber, or we could walk a few blocks. Your choice.”
“Walk. I don’t want to wait,” she said.
I brushed her cheek. “I don’t want to, either.”
I gleefully led her through the neighborhood, unbothered by the evening. After texting the group, I held her hand tight.
“So how long have you lived around here?” Betty made conversation.
“A couple years,” I said. “I bought a fixer-upper and put sometime into it.”
“Cute,” Betty said. “It’s pretty cool.”
“You aren’t from around here, are you? Where do you live in Norway?”
“Uh, my family is in Oslo, but I bought a horse farm outside Trondheim. I love it, even if it’s boring in comparison. My brothers sometime sail up there and I have fond childhood memories.”
“I forgot you were a horse girl,” I sighed. “Oh well.”
“What? That’s too much?” Betty asked. “A dealbreaker?”
“I think we’re past that point, darling.”
“There’s still time,” Betty giggled.
“You just propositioned me in adorableSvenska. We’re past that point unless you’re out?”
“We’ve come this far,” Betty said. “I meant what I said.”
She was bold. I’d not been with anyone so assertive in so long that I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d be like in bed. I tried not to get in my head and wonder why the hell someone as hot and young as Betty was willing to go home with me. She pointed out my elevated status. It never occurred to me that someone might find me attractive only for my newfound fame late in life—especially someone so hot. Still, the way she looked at me suggested her attraction wasn’t shallow. And given the cost of her handbag, I gathered she wasn’t looking for free rent. I assumed she was about to realize my life wasn’tnearlyas glamorous as expected.
I stopped at my terraced house door, pulling keys from my jeans.
“It’s cute,” Betty said.
“Oh, my sweet, posh summer child,” I giggled.
“I… I mean it,” Betty said. “It’s charming.”
“Uh-huh.”
She just mentioned she owned some sort of country home. I pictured a beautiful sea-front property with a boathouse and swimming pool. She might compliment my place, but it was no luxury accommodation. My family had ahytta—a little cabin—in the forest growing up. In comparison with my friends’ families, that felt like a luxury. I gathered Betty had never lived someplace with only one bathroom.
“What?”
I tossed my coat. “That handbag you’re toting is about three months’ mortgage. I know this isn’t your average evening in.”
“Well, I rarely go home with hot rockstars, no.” Betty hanged her handbag and jacket by the door.
“Nice save,min skatt.”
