Trust (London Love #5)

He was laughing. I was too.

“I’m sure I have people for that.”

I didn’t, but I had movers booked, and I was pretty sure there were people who could help me make it nice.

“It’s our house. If I’m going to live here, it will be ours. We’ll have to put our mark on it. Like, I have to throw all my clothes on the floor.”

“Sounds like you’re moving in to me. And we could have, like…wardrobes. Would that be a deal breaker?”

He was so silly, laughing at me when I knew he’d already made up his mind.

“I like you,” I whispered. “So much.”

He didn’t say it back. I didn’t expect him to, because he didn’t have to. Instead, he took my hand, brought it up to his mouth and kissed my knuckles.

“Home sweet home.” He smiled. “How bloody ridiculous is that?”

I was starting to appreciate Reuben more and more. Not only because he treated me like I was a normal person, but because he calmed me down. However stupid I got, or if I said weird things, he just took it. Told me off. Punched my arm or something. Gave me a hug.

I especially liked it when he gave me a hug.

And then Lauren rang and ruined the moment. She rattled off details about some last-minute meeting that I had to attend, like right now, and she hoped I was suitably dressed because Michelle at the agency needed to see me. She was having none of my weak day-off excuses either, because Michelle was not to be messed with and did I realise what I was jeopardising here? No, perhaps I didn’t, but Reuben just got back in the car and smiled, told me not to worry about it and to drop him at the nearest Tube station.

Which gave me palpitations, but he just leaned over and lifted my chin.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“I’m not a kid. Need to clean up my messes.” I blew hot air. Tried to calm my nerves.

“Who’s this Michelle anyway? Sounds scary.”

“My acting agency…agent. You know I did this film? Four months of my life in a goddamn trailer and I was ready to throw up every time they called for me. I mean, I played sold-out 80,000-capacity-stadiums with Blitz and didn’t break a sweat.”

“You did sweat,” he said with a grin.

“At least I knew I was kind of good at that. Acting? Sheesh, Reubs. I sucked. So bad. The director was constantly shouting at me, calling me that retarded pop star, right in front of me. Total arsehole. Four months of totally wrecking my confidence. And now this Michelle is either going to tell me she’s dumping my arse, which will get Lauren’s back up, or…well, I can’t see any other option. I’m not an actor. I can’t do stuff like that. It’s bad enough trying to look half decent in our music videos, but… No.”

“What was this movie about, anyway? I did read something about James Bond.” He was joking, and thank God for that.

“I would’ve made an awful neurotic pathetic James Bond.”

“You would’ve been hot.”

He always knew how to make me smile.

“It was a historical. Period drama. I played the young Lord Charles, this wayward son who refused to marry. Probably totally gay. Then everyone was dying, and the family fortune would go to waste unless I married the Duchess of Warbrookshire—some made-up place, but anyway, she was in love with this guy called Lord Carrington, who was a right wanker.”

“Sounds thrilling.”

“It really wasn’t. Lord Carrington was played by Con Telford? Big name. Nice guy. He had all the sex scenes. I barely took my shirt off. Apart from when I had to do this sword fight with Admiral Browning and got myself stabbed.”

“Con Telford? I need to watch that then. Sounds fun!” He laughed. “You know how to sword fight?”

“Nope, but I know how to make it look like I know how to sword fight. That’s the whole point of acting. Apparently. All I had to do was twitch every time the sword came near me, even if it was made out of plastic.”

“Still, beats a day getting four hundred identical suitcases to the right rooms, especially when all the labels are written in Cantonese.”

“Really?”