Page 15 of Meet Me at the Metro (Gildenhill #1)

15

FUNNY GIRL

E L L I E

W hy is John here? How is this even possible?

As my eyes thoroughly inspect him, I find so many emotions washing over me—surprise, frustration, sadness, contempt. They form furious knots in my stomach and send waves of nausea rippling through me. My mind’s hazy while my eyes rake over his tall, lean stature, dusty-brown hair, and dark brown—so rich they almost look black—eyes. As familiar as I should be with every inch of the man in front of me, the longer I stare, the more it feels like I don’t know this person at all. His infidelity and lies stole away the identity I had for him, along with any ounce of my respect or trust.

All I perceive when I look at him is deceit. I can’t take it anymore—can’t stand to even look at him.

The train reaches its next stop, and I don’t wait for the doors to open to gather my belongings and start making my way toward them. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of looking back, but that doesn’t stop his feet from shuffling after me.

“Eleanor, wait.”

I don’t listen to his order. I keep moving on my crutches until my feet are on the platform outside.

If I could, I’d be running right now—I’d sprint as fast as I could so I wouldn’t have to hear his voice or listen to his meaningless apologies.

My attempts to flee are put to an abrupt stop when his hand tightly grips my wrist. “Don’t walk away when I’m trying to talk to you.”

“I’ll do whatever the hell I please,” I scoff, yanking out of his hold. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“What’s your deal?”

“Look, I don’t know why or how you are here right now, and quite frankly, I don’t care. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to speak to you. I don’t want to see—”

The words are stolen from me as John’s hands shove me back against the paint-coated brick wall of the station. I’m speechless, frozen in a state of pain and shock as my spine settles against the cold stone. I hate the way I shiver as he takes a defiant step toward me—I hate how scared I become of the vacancy of this platform right now.

I’ve heard John speak vicious, temperamental words in the past but never saw that viciousness turn physical. I never experienced fear being in his presence, but right now, isolated with him in this state, terror bubbles up inside of me and threatens to melt every last shred of my courage.

“El, sweetie. Please just—just hear me out. We’ve been through too much for you to throw us away like this.”

“You’re actually hilarious. I didn’t throw shit away. You did when you decided to sleep with my best friend. Do you not see how fucked up that is?”

“You won’t even hear me out,” he hisses.

“There’s nothing to hear out. Absolutely nothing .”

“There is. There are two sides to every story—to every relationship. You left me behind in shitty Georgia while you were out here, in London, having the time of your life. It was supposed to be the two of us, El. If you would have stayed, none of this would have even happened.”

“Don’t you dare try to blame me! Coming here hasn’t been easy. Missing you, friends, and family back home hasn’t been easy. The truth you can’t seem to admit to yourself, John, is that you cheated because you are a jealous, insecure asshole.”

“I dare you to say that again,” he growls, so close that I can feel his hot breath on my skin.

I try to subside the panic boiling inside of me and snarl, “Get the hell away from me.”

“Or what, Eleanor?”

“Get. The. Fuck. Away.”

John startles me when he squeezes a tight hand around my jaw and wrenches my chin to look at him, his expression contorted with rage. My crutches fall, clattering to the floor as he presses the back of my head against the wall. Every muscle in my body quivers, but I do what I can to stay calm despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins and making my every thought incoherent.

“Listen,” he breathes, his chest rising and falling angrily. “I know I fucked up a little. I know, okay? But I can’t move on, I can’t. I won’t let you get rid of me this easily. We’ve been together too long for that. We have something so special.”

“J-John, please.”

“Stop shaking, El. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me right now,” I grit between my teeth, tears welling up in my eyes.

“I tried calling and texting you, but you wouldn’t answer, so I knew I would have to tell you this in person. I tried finding you as soon as I flew in, but I didn’t know your new address. This city is just so big, and well, I—I’ve been accepted at Gildenhill . ”

“What?”

“I got accepted for the late fall semester,” he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be here for the remainder of the school year. We can work out all this bullshit between us. It can be the two of us here like we always dreamed.”

“I don’t want to work things out.”

“You always forgive me. What makes this time any different? I love you, Eleanor . We’re supposed to be together—is this not proof of that? Do you really think it was just some coincidence that I got accepted? If you ever truly cared about me, you would work with me on this.”

I’m trembling beneath his still-firm grasp, my body gradually growing numb with undiluted fear in the long seconds that pass.

John finally reads my discomfort and releases his hold on me. “I’m so sorry. Here .” He bends down and picks up my crutches. “I hate when we fight. You should think about what you’re doing before you end this.”

Think about what I’m doing?

“Get away from me!” I cry, pushing him back. “Get away!”

“Eleanor,” he sighs, attempting to brush his fingers against my wet cheeks.

I swat his hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you like that. Don’t be mad at me, please. I didn’t mean it. I just—I can’t lose you.”

John tries to reach for me again—tries to wrap me in a gentle embrace—but I shove him so hard his feet stumble against the concrete.

“I said, get the fuck away from me!”

“Nora?!” A voice calls out, full of worry and concern.

I slice my eyes farther down the platform to where it came from, finding Theo quickly approaching. Seeing him fills me with immense relief, and I finally find myself capable of breathing again. John’s already fled the scene when I look back, racing around a nearby corner and disappearing out of sight.

The weight of reality comes crashing down and shatters my composure completely.

“ Hey. ” Theo’s deep voice is like a comforting caress while I cry. “ Nora, hey. Look at me .”

I try to lift my eyes to him, but my vision is so blurry with tears that I can barely make out the hard, masculine features of his face.

“What the hell was that? Who the fuck was that?”

When I don’t respond immediately, he begins to bolt toward the direction John fled. I seize him with a trembling hand before he can get too far and cling to him like he’s the last shred of humanity left in the entire universe.

“Theo, please. Please, don’t leave me.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Nora,” he sighs, brushing his thumbs beneath my eyes.

“Take me somewhere again,” I offer, my voice wavering. “Please. ”

I need a distraction.

His eyes carefully inspect me, tracing the features of my face before trailing to my hand clenched around his wrist. I loosen my grip and draw away quickly, feeling embarrassed— feeling ashamed?

He smothers those emotions when his palm gently settles against my arm. “Where?”

“Anywhere —take me anywhere .”

Theo’s gaze tells me he wants more of an explanation, but I stay silent and hope that he won’t keep pushing me to give him an answer. Not right now.

My hopes are fulfilled when he finally says, “Alright.”

Theo and I make our way down a stone pavement, turning onto a relatively empty street. We stop in front of a tarnished-looking two-story building neighbored by terraced houses on each side. The wood stain appears to be chipping away from its solid brown doors, which seem to silently beckon you inside with their rustic charm. Small shrubs garnish each side of the two-paneled doorway as small floral, fruit, and tassel designs carve themselves into the surrounding stone wall. My eyes slowly scan the bold red letters that fall on each side of the doorway, reading the place’s name.

Wiltons.

Intrigued by its outward appearance and full of curiosity, I cut my gaze over to Theo and ask, “What is this place?”

“You don’t know? You’ve never heard of Wiltons before?”

“Never. Is it a restaurant or something?”

“A restaurant?” He tosses his head back and laughs. A real, genuine laugh . “Bloody hell, Nora, no.”

“Quit laughing at me!” I prod his foot with one of the rubber ends of my crutches .

“Right. I forgot it’s not polite to pick on the crippled.”

“You’re an asshole,” I say, trying to hide the smile that threatens to pull against my lips. “Are you going to tell me what it is then, or just keep standing there wearing that cocky grin of yours?”

“This is one of the oldest music halls in the world,” he finally tells me, nodding toward the beautiful piece of history in front of us.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Seriously. I’m gutted that you’ve never heard of it before. And you call yourself a musical theater student?” He scoffs, “Please.”

“My focus is on stages , Teddy. Not concert halls.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, grinning boyishly. “My dad used to take me here.”

Theo’s eyes tear away from mine as he blurts out the confession. He didn’t mean to tell me that, but he did. A vague look of discomfort crosses his face, and I decide that, for now, I don’t need to linger on the topic.

“Let’s see it then!” I exclaim, heading toward the doors. “I don’t feel like standing out here having you chastise me all night!”

He lets out another warm laugh. “Oh, darling… I’ll chastise you inside, too.”

Darling.

Oh my God, that sounded as smooth as caramel coming out of his mouth. I try to ignore the warmth beginning to blossom in my chest.

“If you know this place so well, then give me the grand tour. God knows how much you love giving those,” I tease, recalling the day Evie forced him to show me around the school’s theater.

Theo opens the door and motions me through. “Watch your step, Nora.”

As soon as we step inside, I feel as though I am taken right back to the 1800s, the authentic essence of the place bringing every single nerve in my body to life. Old brick stone covers the walls around us, dimly lit by vintage light fixtures scattered throughout the aged establishment. As my eyes soak in every detail of the space, I fall in love with the old, timeless charm buzzing all around us .

“ Theo!? Oh, my days! It’s really you, isn’t it?” An ashy-haired old man crosses around the oak cashier counter ahead and hobbles over to us. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you here! How have you been, boy? My , my , you’re not a young lad anymore.”

By the look of surprise on Theo’s face, I can tell he’s been caught by pleasant surprise.

He embraces Theo tightly, and I’m surprised to watch Theo’s arms be just as accepting of him as he hugs the old man back—without an ounce of hesitation. “I wish I could say the same, Barney. You don’t look like you’ve aged a day since I last saw you.”

“ Bollocks !” he roars with laughter. When Barney’s hazel eyes finally land on me, he quirks an eyebrow. “Always the charmer, this one. And you are ?”

“I’m,” I pause momentarily, contemplating the name but ultimately telling him, “Nora. You can call me Nora.”

I try not to watch Theo’s reaction, but I see how he brings the back of his hand up to cover his mouth,hiding his smile.

“Well, Nora, it’s lovely to meet you.” Barney switches his stare back and forth between Theo and me and asks, “You two lovers here to see the show tonight?”

Lovers.

Something about the word sends all of my senses into overdrive .

Theo shifts on his feet and clears his throat. “Nora’s a friend, Barney.”

It stung to hear those words, but I swallow the lump in my throat and stay quiet, pretending that I don’t feel his eyes on me.

“I wanted to show her this place,” Theo says, cutting through the lingering silence. “It’s Barbara Streisand night, right?”

The name immediately conjures up every ounce of my attention.

Does he know how much I absolutely adore that woman?

“It sure is. You know what? You guys go right on in. Enjoy the show.”

“We can pay for our tickets, Barney. It’s no problem.”

“Did I ask if you could? I’m not accepting your money. Now go, enjoy.”

Theo is reluctant, but after a moment of contemplation, he throws the old man a thankful nod and finally joins at my side again. So naturally, his palm finds the middle of my back, resting there softly as he leads me toward the stairs, giving way to the balcony of the music hall.

“And Theo! It’s good to see that you are doing well, my boy. Your father would be so proud.”

Theo halts at the words, his Adam’s apple bobbing against his neck as he swallows. I brush my fingers along the back of his hand in silent comfort as he acknowledges Barney’s comment with a tentative nod.

Theo graciously carries my crutches for me as I hold onto the railing beside me for support and take light, cautious footsteps up the staircase. When we reach the top of the steps, he hands them back to me and watches me carefully until he’s sure I’m steady.

As we open the music hall’s door leading to the second-story seating, I am taken aback by its beauty. We stride toward the oval-shaped balcony that circles the perimeter of the small auditorium. My hands skim against the metal railing along its edges, and I quietly admire the twinkling string lights hanging from the arched ceiling above. I give myself a few minutes to soak in the image of the antique concert hall, appreciating every single detail my eyes come across, from the solid oak benches that line the walls to the old beige paint beginning to chip away and tarnish inside the hall.

Even with its flaws, I can’t seem to get over its timeless charm.

Leaning over the railing, I peep down to the floor below us, taking in the brightly lit stage. Its deep red curtains hang wide open as the young woman performing on its central platform finishes singing the last few bars of ‘Don’t Rain on My Parade .’ People in the audience gathered around the stage clap and cheer as the song ends, and so easily, I find myself doing the same.

“I knew you’d enjoy this,” Theo whispers.

I look at him and smile, mouthing the only words I can think to speak, “ Thank you .”

He nods and forces his eyes back on the stage.

“Thank you. Thank you, everyone.” The singer’s voice echoes through the microphone, politely acknowledging the crowd’s applause. “We’ll take it slow with this next one...”

With that, the performer gives one look back to the piano player, who takes his cue and begins playing the soft intro of the next song. I immediately recognize the tune, and as I watch the musician’s fingers work against the ivory keys below, I can’t help but wonder how good it’d sound to hear Theo play it.

The vocal performer’s melodic and warm voice fills the auditorium as she begins singing the first verse of the song. “ Funny. Did you hear that? Funny. Yeah, the guy said, ‘Honey, you’re a funny girl’...”

I can’t even attempt to keep my grin hidden. I’m certain that Theo knew just how much he would be helping me by bringing me here tonight. I can feel his eyes lingering on me, and when I finally dare to glance over at him, my heart melts to see the content smile on his face.

And this…

This is what I can’t seem to understand. How can a simple smile take me away from every bit of worry that invaded my mind just an hour ago? Why do I yearn to discover all the ways I can keep evoking it?

Theo tries to come off so refrained and callous, but I see between the cracks—how tender and solicitous he truly is. He didn’t even have to try to pull me away from my anxious thoughts, and he didn’t need to ask where to take me tonight because he already knew just what I needed. It’s proof that he doesn’t overlook me the way he’d have me believe—the way he’s tried convincing himself to believe.

“That’s me. I just keep them in stitches, doubled in half. And though I may be all wrong for a guy, I’m good for a laugh…”

The melody and chords echoing around us stir up so many emotions inside of me, and as I immerse myself in this moment, I have complete clarity.

Theo sees me clearly—so clearly that it’s terrifying.

Terrifying because I’d let him see every single ugly, vulnerable thing about me if he chose to.

Despite my initial apprehension, I move closer beside him and let my head lean against his firm body. The contact between us has my heart beating wickedly in my chest. The chemistry between us is palpable, evident every time our skins brush against one other and set my thoughts on fire.

Theo fights it for a moment, his body tensing up beside mine. It’s almost enough to have me pulling away, but he finally relaxes his muscles and lets this thing between us exist.

I can’t quite pin the relief I suddenly feel giving way in my chest.

My breath hitches when his strong arms envelop me, and as his hands settle against my waist, my stomach swirls with an unrecognizable elation. I do my best to hold a calm composure despite the way my brain hyper-focuses on the sensation of his touch. When his fingertips find my stomach—tracing lazy, soft strokes against my skin—my head becomes dizzy, and my collectedness collapses.

There’s a tremble in my breath as I convince myself to look up into his eyes, and the second I do, I’m pretty sure I’m ruined because...

Those eyes—his striking gray-blue eyes.

They’ve had such an influence on me since the first day I saw them.

I know he feels the weight of this influence fixed between us, too, because he quickly averts his gaze despite the glaze of eagerness I swore was in it just a blink ago.

He’s fighting this so damn hard.

Desperation pervades me, and longing claws at the back of my mind, begging my hands to reach out and touch him.

I can’t fight this anymore.

My hands draw his eyes back to me and urge him to let us have this moment instead of pushing it away the way we always seem to do.

My breathing grows laborious as his fingers give into the thread of tension lingering between us, drifting to the side of my face to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

His following words are in complete opposition to everything his body language says. “I don’t know if we should do this, Nora.”

“Liar,” I respire. “Can’t we have this, Theo? Just for tonight.”

In answer, he brushes a soft knuckle down the side of my cheek. He draws my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts my head up to meet his as he allows the space between our lips to close. The last verse of the song echoes through the hall as his mouth meets mine.

“ Honey, how it ain’t so funny. Funny girl.”

All at once, I start to realize something wonderfully terrifying—if I didn’t have it bad for Theo before, I sure as hell do now.