Part 61 (1/2)
”You want me to be Nate?”
”No, you're obviously him because I've heard that line before.”
”Want to join the party?” I lift up my beer.
”No, thanks, I'm going home.” Her breath mists in the cool night, circling around her head.
”How was your evening?” A man with a dog heads from the direction Fleur came from and she snaps her head around, moving closer to me when she hears the footsteps. ”You sure you're okay?”
She pulls her cardigan closer around herself. ”Tired.”
Disappointment sinks into my stomach to join the beer swirling around. Tired after her physical exertions with Shaun? I can't blame him, she's f.u.c.king s.e.xy in that dress, skimming her knees and moulding around her curves.
Has that douche had his mouth hers? Or on any other part of Fleur?
s.h.i.+t, stop thinking about her naked.
”He didn't kick you out straight after, did he?” I ask.
”No! And since when is what I do your business?”
Whoa. ”Never mind. Just saw you and him, that's all.” Fleur makes a derisive noise. ”What?”
”At least you were upfront about what you wanted from me after the gig the other night.” She draws a deep breath. ”I can't believe I was stupid to trust him, or believe he liked me. b.l.o.o.d.y men.” I look away when she wraps her arms defensively around her chest.
”What happened?”
She ignores me and continues, ”I thought guys who are charming and polite were decent people; when in reality, they're the same as you.”
”Same as me?”
”Sleazy.”
”Ouch. And I'm not sleazy, I sent you flowers.”
”Yes. Why did you?”
”To apologise for being sleazy.” I manage to elicit a small smile from Fleur. ”And to thank you. I got seventy-two percent on my paper.”
”Go you,” she mutters.
”Hey, no, it was because of you. Thanks.” I pause and take a deep breath. ”Shame I'm persona non grata these days.”
Fleur stares. Then laughs. ”You both know big words? Impressive. You really are the same. You and him.”
Anger flares in my blood. ”No. I'm not. I'm presuming from what you said he forced himself on you. I never do that. Ever.” I don't need to; I have plenty of options, but best I don't say that.
”Yes, like I said, at least you were upfront about wanting to f.u.c.k me.” She spits the word f.u.c.k and confirms my fear. This guy touched Fleur. Tried to do things she didn't want. I scan her clothes. How far did he go?
”That wasn't me,” I say.
”Don't tell me, you're a different guy when you're drunk?” she says and pulls a sarcastic face.
”Ha. You have no idea.”
Is now the time to tell her?
”I've seen the pictures. You and your brother were quite the story a few months back.” She chews a nail. ”I still hear stories about you.”
”Both of us?”
”Mostly you, Nate. You must have better moves than your brother.”
I laugh. Loudly. ”I thought you hated him?”
”That's a strong word. I dislike you both.”
I take a bottle from the wall next to me. Empty. Picking at the label, I mentally bang my head against the wall over the whole f.u.c.king 'being Nate' situation. Fleur hovers close and rubs her arms. Is she that freaked out she'd rather spend time in the cold, talking to a guy she told to p.i.s.s off the other day?
”I take it from that comment it's still a no to me coming back to the study group?” I ask. ”I really need you; look at what your help did for me. I mean...seventy-two percent.”
Fleur shakes her head and looks around at the sound of a bus approaching the nearby stop. ”I have to go.”
As Fleur runs to catch the empty bus, I catch up and climb up the steps after her. When Fleur scans her Oyster card, she looks around in surprise. ”What are you doing?”
”Making sure you get home okay.”
The bus lurches away and she catches hold of a nearby seat. ”I'm capable. I don't need carrying home like last time.”
I grip a nearby seat too. ”Must be my alpha protective streak, then.”
Now we're in the light, Fleur's big pupils and pale face betray what's beneath her bravado. ”You don't need to look after me.”
”I know. I want to.”
She sits and looks up at me, brow tugged. I want to ask her what happened. Punch the a.r.s.ehole in the face. The anger rises at the idea somebody hurt her and my mind flashes with an image of what I'll do if he has a.s.saulted her. If he's messed her up, I'll reward him with the same.
”You're not coming into my house,” she says.
”All good.” As I sit on the seat next to her, she scowls and s.h.i.+fts away from me. Fleur's hands shake and she tucks them beneath her arms. ”Am I making you nervous?”
”No. It's not you.”
I swallow down the anger. ”What did he do?”