Page 6

When I reach a road, I’m forced to stop, the traffic zooming through the green light, leaving me among many other pedestrians waiting to cross, all with umbrellas. I frown when the people on both sides of me jump back, but by the time I’ve realised why, it’s too late. A great big truck zooms past, straight through a lake of a puddle by the roadside, kicking oceans of water up my body.

‘No!’ I drop my jacket on a shocked gasp as the freezing cold water drenches me. ‘Shit!’ The lights change and everyone else starts to cross, leaving me looking like a drowned rat on the kerbside, shivering and brimming with tears.

‘Livy.’ Miller’s voice is quieter, but I’m not sure if it’s because he’s far away or the rain is drowning him out. His warm touch on my wet arm soon tells me it’s the latter, leaving me surprised that he’s ventured out of his car, given the dreadful weather and the effect it’ll have on his expensive suit.

I shrug him off. ‘Leave me alone.’ I bend to collect my saturated jacket from the ground, fighting the growing lump in my throat and the familiar internal sparks that his touch on my cold, wet skin has instigated.

‘Olivia.’

‘How do you know William Anderson?’ I blurt, swinging my eyes to him, finding he’s standing beneath the safety and dryness of a giant golf umbrella. I should’ve known. I’ve surprised myself with my question, and obviously Miller, too, judging by his slight recoil. There are many questions I should be asking, yet my mind has centred on this one alone.

‘It’s of no importance.’ He’s being dismissive, making me more persistent.

‘I beg to differ,’ I spit. He knew. All that time he knew. I may have only mentioned William’s first name when I spilled my heart, released everything from my conscience about my mother to Miller, but he knew exactly who I was referring to, and now I’m certain that that was the cause for the majority of his violent reaction and shock.

He must see the unyielding determination on my face because his impassive expression wavers slightly into a scowl. ‘You know Anderson, and you know me.’ His jaw tenses. He means I know what they both do. ‘Our paths have crossed over the years.’

From the bitterness rolling off him in waves, I determine something quite quickly. ‘He doesn’t like you.’

‘And I don’t like him.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he pokes his nose in where it isn’t wanted.’

I inwardly laugh, thinking how much I agree, and my eyes drop to the ground, seeing raindrops splashing the pavement. Miller’s confirmation only reinforces my previous fear. I’m delusional if I believe for a moment that William will disappear to where he came from without digging for information on my connection with Miller. I learned many things about William Anderson, and one of those things was his desire to be in the know about everything. I don’t want to explain to anyone, least of all my mother’s ex-pimp. And anyway, I don’t owe him any explanation.

I’m snapped from my worries when I see Miller’s tan brogues appear in my line of sight. ‘How are you, Olivia?’

I refuse to look at him now, his question restoking my anger. ‘How do you think I am, Miller?’

‘I don’t know. That’s why I’ve been trying to contact you.’

‘You really have no idea?’ I look up at him, surprised. His perfect features hurt my eyes, making me instantly drop my gaze, like if I look at him for too long, I might never forget him.

Too late.

‘I have an inkling,’ he murmurs. ‘I did tell you to take me for who I am, Livy.’

‘But I didn’t know who you were.’ I grind the words out, keeping my eyes on the bouncing raindrops at my feet, incensed that he would use such a feeble excuse to wriggle out of this. ‘The only thing that I’ve accepted is that you’re different, with your obsession to have everything painfully perfect and your uptight manners. It can be annoying as hell, but I’ve accepted it and even started to find it lovable.’ I should have used any other word – appealing, charming, endearing – but not lovable.

‘I’m not that bad,’ he argues weakly.

‘Yes!’ I look at him now. His face is straight. It’s nothing new. ‘Look!’ I run my finger up and down his dry, suited body. ‘You’re standing here with an umbrella that could keep half of London dry, just so you don’t get your perfect hair and expensive suit wet.’

He looks a little sulky as he casts his eyes down his suit and slowly back up to me. Then he chucks the umbrella to the pavement, and the rain instantly soaks him, waves of hair falling all over his face, water running down his cheeks, and his expensive suit starting to stick to him. ‘Happy?’

‘You think getting yourself a little wet might fix this? You f**k women for a living, Miller! And you f**ked me! You made me one of them!’ I stagger back, dizzy from both my fury and the flashbacks of our time in the hotel room.

The water pouring down his face is shimmering. ‘You don’t need to be so crass, Olivia.’

I recoil, trying desperately to gather myself. ‘Fuck you and your bent moral compass!’ I shout, making Miller’s jaw seize with stiffness. ‘Are you forgetting what I told you?’

‘How could I possibly forget?’ Anyone else would think his face utterly impassive, but I see the tic in his cheek, the anger in his eyes – eyes I know how to read. I would say that he’s right, that he really is emotionally unavailable, but I’ve experienced feeling with him – incredible feeling – and now I just feel conned.