Page 14 of Just Like You (Square Mile Rogues #2)

“You can because…” He scrunched up his face and hid it in his hands.

Breathed out. Then looked up again like he was trying to compose himself.

“I know it’s been brief, and weird and all the things I can see you’re thinking.

But it’s been…perfect. You know that, don’t you?

You and I, so far, have been everything.

And I’ve enjoyed every little interaction we’ve had. ”

“I…” I wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. I didn’t fully understand what we had here. Why he was so adamant that this was what he wanted. What we were. How this would…end. Because it would.

“So, you’re from Highgate?” I changed the subject to keep things safe. I wasn’t ready to let my head go where it was heading .

“No. Grew up in Holland Park with my mum. A bit like yours, she never told me who my dad was, and to be honest it never mattered. My mum was great. She was…fun. Lively and a little nutty, and she made my life a constant adventure. We lived in this big apartment, and I went to school, and sometimes I didn’t because we’d jump on a plane and go somewhere new, just to follow whatever was in her head.

She’d read a book, and we’d go to where it was set.

We watched a film about lions, and next thing I knew we were sat in a safari lodge in Kenya watching lions in the distance. ”

“Wow,” I said, sitting myself up. “Proper adventure.”

“Irresponsible, bohemian and off her head was the general consensus.” He looked away, a look on his face that I knew far too well.

“She’s no longer here,” I said quietly.

“I knew you’d get that part.” Watery eyes, and I couldn’t stand it. I never could. My own grief had been violent, but I still couldn’t bear to see it in others. “You’re very empathetic.”

“I’m an idiot,” I said. Truth. “Too soft and too nice. I struggle to say no. I’m rubbish at telling people off.”

“You’re not. I watched you. I heard what you said to that woman in the back, the one who was throwing a tantrum over the backrest. You’re stern and fair. And empathetic. One of your finer qualities.”

“Bah.” I smiled through the emotion in my head. The tear that ran down his cheek. He wiped it away, suddenly embarrassed again.

“What happened to your mum, Kieron?”

“Accidental overdose. She was heavily into mind-altering substances at times. Left me a rambling, drunken note to get myself some dinner, a ten-pound note and then she was gone. Not something you forget…or forgive.”

“How old were you?” He shook his head.

“Tell me,” I said softly.

“Twelve.”

“Oh, Kieron.”

“Nah. It’s the ultimate stupid thing people tell for sympathy.

I was just a kid. A na?ve, silly child and I was so angry.

I wanted everything to go back to normal.

But that’s not how life works, is it?” He shifted on the chair, his arms flailing in the air.

“You know how this story ends, don’t you?

Family? Relatives? They want cute babies.

Nobody wanted the messed-up teenager with the bad skin who kept lashing out.

Nobody cared. Everyone was talking behind my back, and I didn’t understand what was going on.

Things could so easily have gone wrong. So, so easily. ”

“They had already gone wrong.” I tried to follow his story, slightly confused about where he was heading.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Tell me,” I demanded. “I get it. God, Kieron, I do. Get it out.”

“You don’t want to know the whole sob story.”

“Yes, I do. If we’re going to be here for another three days? I need to know what I’m dealing with. Are you a murderous psychopath?”

I was aiming for a badly placed joke. One that…strangely landed as he laughed. Tears running down his face.

Oh, Kieron. Fucking hell, dude.

“I’m a kid who survived foster care. Good enough for you?

” he snarled, suddenly all defensive. “And I have no horror stories to tell there, because I was placed with this retired teacher, who sat me down at his kitchen table and fed me cheese toasties and talked about algebra. I went from enjoying sushi and watching lions to eating baked beans and memorising chemical compounds. And you know… It was… hard. But in the end things were okay. I went to uni, paid by my inheritance, and I got a job and bought a house, and I go visit Ralphie once a month at the home he’s at.

He doesn’t remember who I am, but I try, you know? ”

“Empathy. I think you may have that in spades. You just hide it well.”

“I’m broken, in a lot of ways. I’ve just learned to cope with that.”

I liked that he could talk about it. Admit to his shortcomings where maybe I never had.

“I’m still grieving losing Mum,” I said, hoping I wasn’t just hijacking this conversation like a twat. “It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever get over. You won’t either.”

“This is not how I planned this afternoon to go.” He tried to wipe his face with his sleeve, instead missing and almost knocking himself out.

He was frazzled, and…I kind of liked it.

I liked it when he dropped the act. The arsehole.

I liked the arsehole, in a fucked-up way, but I liked crying Kieron better.

I wondered what the hell was going on, but he just smiled and picked up a napkin off the table. Blew his nose.

“You’re okay,” I tried, weakly. Goddamn it. What was I doing here?

“And now I’m sat here with the guy I am desperate to impress, spilling all my shit over things that I should have been able to deal with.”

“You are dealing,” I said, reaching out and grabbing his hand.

“Badly.” He tried to smile but instead dragged me over, making me step over the table and lose my towel. It ended with me naked, landing in his arms on the deckchair that creaked alarmingly under both our weights.

“You’re doing fine,” I insisted, trying to grab the towel off the floor and not fall off the chair.

Him underneath me, my dick half trapped as he helped me cover up my arse.

Then he wrapped me up, the way he did. I was starting to learn how he worked.

How I fit against his chest. How he fit against mine.

Where his lips would start on my forehead.

My temples. Cheek. Jaw. Mouth. Kisses. He was such a good kisser.

I wasn’t mad at it. None of it was offensive, in any way. I liked it.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to spill that on you. I’m not as messed up as I seem, but things sometimes get too much.”

“And then they spill over. It’s fine. I once burst into tears at a diamond card holder shouting at me because his wife had the same name as my mum. Stood there blubbering all over him as he shouted at me.”

“I hate him.”

“No you don’t. You can’t protect me from the world. Nor can I stop things making you sad. ”

“What are we like?” he muttered into my hair.

“I think…” I admitted. I hated that I did. “That maybe we’re quite alike.”

“Yes.” He tipped my chin up. Kissed my lips. “Told you. We’re perfect. I just needed to show you how good we could be.”

I thought I was starting to believe him. And that was the most frightening thing of all.

Sonny, it’s three in the afternoon here.

The arsehole turned up, and I’m having the best time.

Surprising but true. Got me room service and all.

Feeling like a princess. Won’t last, so I’m just enjoying it while I can.

No swapping onto dodgy trips and shagging hotel staff.

We know how that ended last time. Yeah. I remember. You should too. Love you. J x