Trust (London Love #5)

The relief when we got back on the motorway was immense. Every muscle in my body hurt. I recognised it because I was always like this. This wasn’t normal. But it was my normal.

“See?” he said softly. “We can do this. And I kind of know what it’s like. When I was really young and stupid…” He shoved an entire muffin in his mouth. Zero finesse.

“Young and stupid?” I snorted. Because yeah. We’d both been there.

He swallowed, slurped at his coffee. “I made some enemies. I got hold of some weed and then sold it on, and yes, it wasn’t clever, selling cut-price weed on someone else’s turf. This guy came after me and pulled a knife on me. More than once. I kept running into him, and every time he’d go for me. Then he turned up at home and threatened my dad. I was terrified. Didn’t even want to leave the house, but I had to eventually. So I kept my head clear and made sure I had my wits about me.”

“Scary,” I said.

“Yeah. Funny thing is, I never saw him again. No idea what became of him, but my dad kept saying it didn’t matter. What mattered was what became of me. We can’t let fear rule our lives.”

“Fear.”

“Yes, fear, Gray. You can’t spend the rest of your life being frightened. I know this stalker dude did a number on you, but—”

“It’s not him I’m scared of,” I admitted. “He wasn’t that scary. Or maybe he was. He was just lonely, like me, and I kind of…you know. Took it too far. Invited him in. Thought we were friends. We weren’t, but instead of telling him that, I got my security to deal with him, so I get why he kicked off at me. I was being a dick.”

“Doesn’t mean he can break into your house.”

“No. I know. He got a suspended jail sentence, and there’s a restraining order in place.”

“Good.”

“That’s what scares me, though. The way I treated him. Because of me, he’s got a criminal record, when I probably could have just sat down and talked to him, sorted it all out.”

“You sometimes are a bit of a dick, Gray. We all are,” he said, no judgement. “Hey, I realised something today.”

“What?”

“You and me, we’re really alike. I think that’s why we get on so well. We need the same things. We’re scared of the same things, and we…just want a place to call home. And we can both be dicks.”

I laughed.

“I’m…really sorry I threw you out, all those times. I should have just sat you down and talked to you too.”

“We’re both twats. And you know what Reubs? We’re allowed to be twats sometimes, because sometimes it just becomes too much and we panic. It’s just the way we are.”

“I’m going to try harder. Be more chill about all this. Figure things out.”

“Me too. I promise.”

He kept smiling. Shoving muffin crumbs into his mouth.

“I know what you’re going to say, and no, you can’t turn that into a song lyric.”

“I can,” I insisted. “Just watch me.”

We drove, and I stopped talking for a while, letting the silence fill the car. I liked it. I liked that I was comfortable. That he was smiling softly as London spread out in front of us. Houses and buildings and traffic. Red buses instead of lorries. People everywhere, despite it being late. I didn’t even know what day it was. I wasn’t sure I cared.

I’d expected him to take us back to his and his dad’s place and only realised he wasn’t doing that when he turned into the narrow alleyway that led to the house I’d bought.

A place I hadn’t quite reconciled seeing again.

“I assume you have some sort of key or code?” he said, gesturing at the gates in front of the car.

“It’s got automatic numberplate recognition.” I hoped. I think that was Agnes had told me. I hadn’t taken it in, made it my responsibility to know.

The gates sprang to life, and in we went, him driving carefully, me holding my breath. I didn’t know why. Well, I did.