Trust (London Love #5)

Except…if I was really super honest about what had gone down this morning, I’d been on top. I’d kissed him. Like with driving, the one moving first was at fault, and I’d caused that little bump and scrape.

Nothing more.

Apart from the tongue bit, it had been like…Spin the Bottle. Just a quick peck. It didn’t count. No harm done.

I didn’t even convince myself with that little pep talk.

My whole body was tense with unease as we drove down Peckham Rye Lane, past the shops with their graffiti-covered shutters, kids messing around outside McDonald’s, the takeaways with their glaring signs, a train thundering across the overpass.

Home. I loved it here, despite the stupidity of my youth. There were still places I wouldn’t dare walk around on my own, and I definitely didn’t want to go back to being one of those kids. Didn’t ever want to have a blade pulled on me. The fear was still there, somewhere in the back of my mind. Too much. It was all becoming too much.

Dad steered the car into his tidy little parking place, whistling jollily as he got his keys out of his coat pocket and locked the car as I closed the passenger door.

I stared at the back of our house.

The lights were on downstairs.

He was still here.

My chest hurt.

My dad couldn’t deal with Mr Nick-it-All. I couldn’t deal with…

This.

Fuck this.

He was sitting at our kitchen table, bits of paper everywhere, his headphones around his neck. Looking totally normal.

My dad walked past him and ruffled his hair.

The way he ruffled mine.

“You need to leave.” I had no idea why I was so angry. “Like, right now. Seriously. Get out.”

“Reuben,” my dad warned.

Then silence. Me breathing far too strained. Dad letting out a loud sigh.

“It’s okay, Reubs.” He was still sitting there, so calm. How the fuck was he so calm?

“No,” I said, my hands out in front of me. “No. No.” I shook my head, panic in my chest.

I didn’t do things like this. I needed a cup of water. And my meds. Then I needed to have a nice shower and go to bed. Like I always did. A-FUCKING-LONE.

“Reubs,” he said in a soft voice.

“Don’t you Reubs me.” Pathetic. “I just want to go to bed. Sleep. Not have all this…this!” I didn’t even know what that meant.

Dad walked into his room and closed the door.

“Okay.” Gray closed the lid of his laptop. “I get it, Reubs. I do. It’s a bit much.”

“Yes.” Finally.

“Give me a few minutes to get an Uber sorted, yeah?”

I breathed. In. Out.