Page 18 of Meet Me at the Metro (Gildenhill #1)

18

RELUCTANT brIBES

T H E O

“ O h, fuck off with the attitude! I’m worried sick, alright?!” Evie exclaims, already breathless. “Harvey and I can’t get a hold of Ellie. She was supposed to be home after her class tonight, but she’s not back yet, and she’s not answering her phone. And neither are you and—”

“Calm down,” I sigh, rolling my eyes.

“ Calm down?! What if she’s gone missing, Theo? For fucks sake!”

“She hasn’t gone missing.”

Evie cocks a pierced brow at me. “Where is she?”

“She’s safe. That’s all you need to know.”

She gasps. “Is she upstairs?”

“Go home, Evie.”

“I will not go home! Ellie?” She calls out her name but is met with silence. Evie begins bolting past me anyway. “Oh, Ellie! I know you’re up there!”

“Would you fucking stop?”

My annoying ass friend starts bounding up the stairs.

“Evie, do not—”

“I’m coming up, you naughty bitch!”

I should know better; this girl does whatever the fuck she wants.

While I’m a lot taller and stronger than my boisterous friend, she’s a whole hell of a lot faster. She makes it to the top of the stairs before I even manage to make it halfway up.

“I knew it!” Evie exclaims, loud and proud.

I reach the landing to find Nora quickly squeezing back into her damp clothes. She’s managed to get her shirt on but is still working on getting her pants over her legs.

“I fucking knew it!”

Nora’s face turns bright red, and I feel absolutely fucking terrible because I know she won’t stop hearing about this for the next month— at least . I snatch Evie around the waist and begin toting her back downstairs.

“You cheeky bastards have been screwing this entire time!”

“Not the whole time!” Nora defends from the top of the stairs, fully clothed now.

“Don’t entertain her,” I sigh. Give Evie an inch and watch her run a fucking mile. I push her toward the door. “ Out .”

She pushes her whole weight against it so I can’t close it. “I’m not finished here! You had us worried sick, Ellie!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear my phone.”

“I’m sure you didn’t! You were too busy over here screwing Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

“Evie, enough,” I growl.

I’m more frustrated for Nora than myself. She’s really not going to be able to hear the end of this, and she’s already had a hard enough time tonight. I quickly remember the way I found her at the train station earlier and the way that guy’s fucking hands were on her.

I swear, I’m going to figure out what all of that was about.

“See what I mean,” Evie shrugs to prove a point. “ Grumpy Pants .”

I exhale a long breath to calm my rising annoyance. “Could we please have a minute?”

“Sure,” she smirks, stepping outside. “Take all the time you two need.”

I slam the door shut, and Nora giggles when she finally makes it downstairs. “You find this funny, do you?”

“A little bit,” she snorts.

“She’s not going to let you off the hook with this one. You know that, right?”

“Oh, I know.”

“I’m sorry, I tried stopping her before she got up the steps, but—”

“Don’t be.” Her eyes flash to my briefs. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“For what? Nora, I promise you, I enjoyed myself plenty tonight.”

“But you didn’t get to…”

An innocent blush blossoms on her cheeks, and I can’t help but grin, wanting so badly to hear her say it. “Go ahead.”

“You’re mean.”

“I am not,” I chuckle.

“You are!” Nora glances toward the front door, and I’m surprised when she admits, “I wish I didn’t have to go.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do,” she groans, limping over to fetch her crutches. “My clothes are all wet.”

“So, borrow some of mine,” I offer, pulling her to me. She settles right into my arms, and I appreciate how natural the gesture seems.

“I need to go talk to the advisor tomorrow and get my schedule worked out. I don’t think it’ll look too polite if I walk in wearing the guy-I-almost-fucked-the-night-before’s clothes.”

“Fuck what they think.”

“I need to look nice, Theo.”

“I think you’d look very nice in my clothes,” I say matter-of-factly. Nora gives me a fed-up stare, not amused in the slightest. I sigh, “Fine. What about tomorrow night?”

“I can’t,” she frowns. “I have a piano lesson tomorrow night.”

“Hell, I could give you lessons, Nora. Didn’t you know? That’s what I’m majoring in.”

“I had an inkling. So that’s what you’re studying at Gildenhill. Thanks for clearing up another mystery.” A lovely smile spreads across her face. “Good to see you letting that guard of yours down a little bit.”

The words are unsettling to hear because the thought of her breaking through my defenses and discovering my past makes me actually want to vomit. It’s too fucking heavy —too fucking much.

She immediately notices the change in my demeanor.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to press any buttons or push too hard.”

“It’s alright,” I mutter.

I don’t blame Nora for being curious; that’s her right, but I’m not ready to tell her everything. I’m not ready for her to know why my head’s so fucked up the way it is— not yet , and quite frankly, I don’t know when I will be.

I force the subject away from myself as I ask, “Can you tell me something?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened earlier tonight at the train station?”

I don’t appreciate how quickly she looks away from me. “It was nothing. I’m fine.”

“Who was that?”

“I-I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Just some creep or something.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“You tell me,” she retorts, crossing her arms against her chest. “I’m fine, isn’t that what matters?”

“Who it was matters, too, Nora.”

“Please, Theo. Can we just please drop it for tonight? Call a truce? It was no one, I promise.”

She’s not going to budge, is she?

“On one condition,” I negotiate, knowing this conversation isn’t advancing any further tonight.

“What?”

“You leave me your number.”

“Oh, you’re smooth,” she laughs, her smile on full display as she finally dares to glance up at me again. “Got a pen and some paper?”

“I’ve got a pen.”

I stride over to one of the kitchen drawers and bring one back to her, but I can’t find any paper, so I hold out my hand for her to write on. I try to memorize every single number she etches onto my skin.

“Thank you,” I murmur, running my fingers through her damp hair and gently smoothing the dark strands behind her ears to see her entire face.

“No, thank you . For tonight and well… you know…”

“For helping you come,” I finish to see her blush again—she does.

Nora grabs her crutches and heads to the front door, nodding to my hand. “Don’t let that go to waste, Theo.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t.”

I opt for going in the back door of Gullie’s rather than coming in through the front so Rob doesn’t notice me clocking in late.

“You’re late,” he informs the second I step inside.

Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you have to take an hour-long cold shower to try and quell the raging boner you still have from the night before.

“Shit came up.” I cross behind the bartop and start my work restocking the liquor bottles lined along the shelves.

“You can’t keep coming into my pub late, Theo. Next time will be a write-up.”

“Bloody hell, Rob. You and your write-ups. At least I turn up for shifts. That’s more than the rest of your employees can say.”

“You show up late again, and it’s an automatic write-up. Understood?”

“Whatever, man.”

I quell my frustration by losing myself in the memories of last night, mulling over every detail in my head—from the way Nora looked all tangled up in my sheets to how damn beautiful her moans sounded, echoing through my flat.

“Your Mum and brother came by again this morning,” Rob abruptly informs me, tearing me away from my happy thoughts.

“Don’t call them that.” The bottles in my hands clink together loudly, and I do my best to loosen my tight grip against them.

“Come on,” he sighs. “Blood or marriage, those two are your family. The least you could do is return their calls. That would save me from having to deal with them when I’m busy trying to open up. This is a business, not a therapist’s office.”

“So tell them that.”

“Or you could just answer their calls and tell them yourself. Seriously, this has been going on long enough.”

“Got it,” I snap.

This man has absolutely no clue how close his face is to meeting my fist. So, I’m more than thankful when he disappears to the back of the establishment and leaves me to myself.

Mum and brother, my arse. Rob’s fucking joking me.

Sometimes, I really think my manager enjoys riling me up because he knows better than to refer to them as that. Especially knowing that I’ve barely spoken to either of them in months. I certainly don’t plan on changing that anytime soon, either.

Kimberley may have married my father, but I can’t bring myself to refer to her or her son as family ever again. Doing so would only reopen all the wounds that have scarred over these past 10 years because, in the end, those two are just a constant reminder—living memories of my father’s death. I can’t stand to be around that anymore. I catch myself remembering and grieving that man plenty enough on my own.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and pulls me out of my maze of thoughts. When I read the text message lit up against its screen, I’m thankful for its convenient distraction.

Bad news. The advisor said I missed the deadline for registering for the late semester.

You’re kidding me? She wouldn’t make an exception?

She said the cut-off dates were last week.

I won’t meet the credit hours I need by the end of term… Idk what to do :(

Maybe she’s at a loss for what to do next, but I’m not. I’m not completely sold on what I’m about to agree to do, but I can’t just sit back and watch Nora struggle to make ends meet for the rest of the school year. With a little bit of hesitation, my shaky fingers type out my next message.

Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.

It looks like I’m going to have that talk with my stepmum, after all.