Trust (London Love #5)

“I know I am. It’s just not easy being me…”

“Mate!” he almost shouted. “It’s not all about you! What the fuck? This was my day off. But yeah, here you go. Latte and croissants and some overpriced fruit jar. Anything else your personal slave can assist you with?”

Reuben was cute when he was grumpy. And yes. Yup. I didn’t blame him. I had no clue how to be a decent person.

“I’m really sorry.” True as it was, I doubted Reuben believed me, staring at me like he wanted to kick me. I wanted to kick myself.

“Next time, I’m not picking up the phone. Trust me.”

“I know, but I’m…desperate. And I do trust you. That’s why I’m…the idiot who calls you to do all my dirty work.”

“I wouldn’t call this dirty work. It’s annoying AF though.”

“If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be here either. And I wouldn’t be annoying you. I just got off the phone with management, and they’re not happy with my little disappearing act. I have somewhere to be tomorrow, and they want me to get in a car now to…I can’t even remember what I’m supposed to be doing, Reuben. I just…”

I threw my hands in the air.

“You’ve got a bunch of paps at the door downstairs. Word is out that you’re hiding here, and there’s some story in the papers about you getting dumped by some model. Wanna elaborate on that?”

He was pissy. And the fear was back. My chest constricted as I tried to breathe. I couldn’t. I plonked my sorry arse on a chair.

“It’s fine, mate, honestly,” he said with a sigh. “I know you can’t just go down and grab a coffee and not expect to be mobbed by people. And I hate those paps as much as you do, but we need to keep them sweet so they don’t print shit about us too. It’s a fine line.”

“It’s a shitty line. I just…fuck. I don’t know. I need to get out of here.”

Panic was a horrible thing. I hated it. The walls felt like they were moving, pushing everything towards me. The space shrinking, and all I could do was sit there and wait to get squashed. No air.

“Breathe,” he said, suddenly in front of me, holding onto my hands. “Coffee is probably the last thing you should be having right now, but trust me.”

“Trust you,” I repeated. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“And that stuff about the model is probably made up. I don’t trust that site anyway.”

I grunted. Whatever.

“Come on. Drink the coffee. I’ll tell the guys downstairs in reception that you’re checking out. My car is parked in the garage. I’ll stick you in the back, and you come home with me. Dad’s cooking Sunday roast. I mean, it’s Friday, but it’s a roast. Don’t expect gourmet cooking. It’s basically a cook-in-the-bag chicken and ready-made roasties, but whatever. It’s food. You’ll be safe there for a bit and then you can figure stuff out. Okay? And wherever you need to be tomorrow, I can take you.”

“You can drive me?”

“Dude.”

I hated that word.

“You’re pushing your luck,” he warned, but he was smiling, so I smiled too. It was tentative and weak, but I needed out. Now. Before the entire world caved in on me.

Vodka and Spooning

REUBEN

In my head, it had been an easy plan. In reality, people were everywhere, and it was Friday, and trying to walk through the back corridors, navigating people and trolleys with The Dieter was Mission Impossible. He kept his head down and hoodie up, but people still stared. As you would. I was in my civvies, no ID, because I was an idiot. My heart was beating a bit too fast, but at least nobody had questioned why I was dragging this dude all clad in black, with no ID either, down the corridor at the back of engineering. For security reasons, we had to have IDs visibly pinned to our clothes whenever we roamed the back of the hotel, and we were all trained to approach anyone without one, question why they were where they clearly shouldn’t be, so it was a relief to finally push him through the door to the stairwell down to the garage. More people. Laughter. A voice calling someone’s name. Just walk. Please don’t look up.

I had to stop at the machine and pay for my parking. I wasn’t supposed to park here either, but I hadn’t planned this. At all. It was my day off, and I should have been in my bed snoring away happily, okay? I should not be here…at work…with…

Ta-da! Ticket. Good.

“Get in the back,” I ordered. I wasn’t doing this for my health or sanity.

“We’re not in a movie, Reubs. I’m in the front.”