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Page 6 of Meet Me at the Metro (Gildenhill #1)

6

UNBEARABLE

T H E O

T o say that work has been utter shit lately would be an understatement.

In typical fashion, my manager, Rob, is being a fucking wanker. He constantly requests me to come in and cover extra shifts but always keeps me well past the bloody time that I’m scheduled to get off. It’s like he’s utterly oblivious to the fact that I’m a full-time uni student.

Either that, or he simply just doesn’t care.

The last thing I need is to be spending my time serving a bunch of old, drunk idiots all day. Yet, here I am… serving old, drunk idiots all day .

I should be sitting my arse down in front of a piano and practicing for the senior performance critique coming up at the end of the year because my mental health or wallet can’t afford to repeat this final year of my studies for a BA in music. Unfortunately, my water bill isn’t going to pay itself either, so I’ve got to prioritize my needs carefully. It’s the only reason I agreed to pick up this shift today.

My hands work quickly as I finish restocking the empty bottles of liquor and whiskey lined against the wall in front of me.

“Rob!” I call out as I finish topping off the final bottle of scotch and yank off the apron clung to my waist. “I’m going out for a fag.”

“You’re still on the clock, and you’ve already taken two smoke breaks this shift.”

He has a point; maybe I should take it easy on the cancer sticks, but also—with peace and love—fuck him. My nerves are shot.

“I’m going out for a fag,” I repeat, pushing through the bar’s backdoor.

The fresh, London air brushes against my skin, and I breathe it in, feeling some of the day’s tension release from my shoulders. I lean my back against the brick behind me, relieving myself of half my body weight while I yank out a cigarette from my back pocket.

As I stand and smoke, my thoughts drift to memories of when I first applied to Gullie’s . God, I can’t believe how naive I was in thinking this place would be a promising job for a university student.

But you know what they say about hindsight.

The only positive attribute this tiny, greasy fish-and-chips-serving pub offers me is easy access to a wide range of alcohol and a reasonable living wage. Also, conveniently enough, the bar is only a stone’s throw away from Evie and Harvey’s place. That grants me easy opportunities to escape from many workplace situations and is actually how I came to meet both of them in the first place. It’s also—unfortunately—the way I came to meet her had I not stopped by there after my shift the other night.

What a fine introduction I had with Miss Nora .

I find it amusing to watch her face scrunch up when I call her that.

Judging from the few short moments I’ve had with her, she appears to be just as much of a smart arse— albeit a much tamer one —as I am. At first, I found myself hating that, but now, sitting here thinking about it, I may find myself appreciating the challenge it brings.

I don’t necessarily enjoy arguing, but I can’t lie to myself and say that I don’t find it a little bit fun with her. It felt kind of good to get riled up by her—it felt refreshing to feel those levels of emotions again because, for so long, I’ve made myself numb to them. When she walked in, it was like all my senses were startled awake again.

God, that’s a little bit infuriating to admit— she’s infuriating .

And strong-headed . And forward. And… invigorating…

Bloody hell, I don’t know what it is, but something about her is so annoyingly invigorating, which is precisely why I can’t give her the time of day .

On top of all of her provoking attributes, Nora’s also just about the clumsiest girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. This city really might just eat her alive, and part of me hates that thought.

She reminded me of a much younger version of myself—the curious and hopeful one. She seems so thrilled by everything this city has shown her, so enraptured by it all. So naive…

I can’t stop thinking back to a few weeks ago when she nearly fell on the train. I vividly recall the feeling of her waist in my hands and how she felt pressed against me. I remember the way she smelled in such close proximity, all sugary and sweet. I also keep thinking about the way her blue eyes, damp brown hair, and flushed cheeks became the only thing I wanted to watch the rest of the night if I had allowed myself to.

Shit.

No, she’s annoying. We’re sticking with that: annoying and unbearable.

Unbearable for the way she makes your cock twitch every time she’s around.

“Theo, get your arse back in here!” Rob shouts, and for once, I’m grateful for the abrupt distraction his loud mouth brings. “We have drinks to fill and stomachs to serve.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I groan, taking one last hit against my cigarette before reluctantly making my way back inside. The chatter of the pub fills my ears as I tie my apron back on and head to the bar.

A regular customer greets me with a toothy grin as soon as she sets her sights on me. “Theeeo!”

“What will it be, April?”

She leans her body forward against the bar surface, purposefully positioning herself to where her tits are practically spilling out of her shirt. “Two pints of lager and a shot of you, honey,” she slurs.

“How much did you drink before coming here?”

“Does it matter?”

“It matters.” I roll my eyes. I fill up a glass of water and slide it her way. I could keep serving her drinks until she’s completely shit-faced and having to crawl her way out of this bar, but I’ve got at least some morals left in me. “Drink some damn water, April, or else you’re gonna feel like utter shit when you’re trying to remember this tomorrow.”

“Fine,” she huffs, snatching up the alcohol-free drink and managing to spill it all over herself.

“Oh, bloody hell,” I sigh.

I toss a washcloth her way and hope to God the rest of my shift doesn’t drag.

The moon and stars are out by the time I finally push my way out of Gullie’s for the night. The sounds of a never-sleeping city and the humming of taxi cabs fill my ears as I walk down the street, each step leading me closer to Harvey and Evie’s place.

Now, Nora’s place, too.

I attempt to keep my eyes pinned on my feet and the pavement beneath them as I pass the familiar flat because I know the sight of it would only conjure up more thoughts of the newcomer, I’m assuming is probably inside.

Unfortunately, I find myself lacking self-discipline tonight. I glance up at one of the lit-up, second-story windows and hate the way I want to know what might be happening inside.

Sometimes, I miss living in B20 with my friends. Some of my core adulthood memories were made in that place. On the hard days, I longed for all the good times spent in that flat, but I never let myself linger on that truth for too long. I made the right decision when I chose to move out. Living with them made the guilt that constantly lies dormant in the pit of my stomach that much worse. I couldn’t stand the thought of my problems being just as heavy a burden on them as they were on me, so I did what I felt I needed to do.

I left.

Over time, I’ve grown more comfortable with the solitude of my new flat despite how much I miss the late-night laughter with my mates. My place is about as small as a fucking mouse hole, but it comes with its advantages, like the fact that it’s only a five-minute walk from campus.

It also carries the main essentials like electricity and water, even if the plumbing goes to shit sometimes, and hot water is limited to a 15-minute shower session. Even with those minor setbacks, the price couldn’t be beaten compared to the rent of other places in the area. Most importantly, it keeps me a comfortable distance from the people I just can’t bring myself to see, and remoteness from said people makes things easier in my situation.

I weave through the crowds of the tube station and quickly find my way onto a train headed for home. I lead myself toward one of the empty carriages in the back as a monotonous chiming sounds through the train. I settle down into my seat just as the doors close. Their steel barriers shut with a loud click, and I watch the remainder of the people on the platform outside dissolve into a blur as we begin to speed down the track.

As always, I do a once-over of my surroundings, quietly and carefully observing my environment and the people around me. The act in itself is a compulsion I have everywhere I go because trauma has a way of haunting you no matter how many times you’ve tried to rid yourself of its ghosts.

Morsel by morsel, I let my lingering fear and anxiety dissolve, replacing old memories with newer ones as my eyes settle on the yellow handrail in front of me.

I can’t help but snort —that clumsy girl .

She would have busted her arse had I not caught hold of her.

Fuck me .

Nora is invading my mind once again. Even something as insignificant as a damn pole is enough to conjure the idea of her up in my head.

For a second, I swear I’m starting to hallucinate because as the train makes the next stop and the doors hiss open, the devil herself waltzes right in. My eyes stay pinned on her, watching as she hurries to a seat in front of the window, two carriages down. It isn’t until her red, puffy, and glazed eyes fall on me that I find the will in me to finally look away.

I shouldn’t glance back—I know I shouldn’t—but I do.

Her back is to me now, her head hung low enough that I can’t even see her face anymore. Before I can even process what I’m doing, I’m approaching her. I don’t seem to comprehend how fucking stupid this is of me until I’m sitting in a seat directly across from her.

Nora refuses to notice me, so before I give myself time to reflect on how pathetic it will sound, I goad, “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise.”

She finally glances at me side-long, but my stomach coils when I notice the tear rushing down her cheek before she quickly wipes it away. “Not today.”

I rest my elbows against my knees and lean forward to ask, “ You alright?”

“I’m fine,” she says, voice wavering.

“What’s wrong?”

“I said that I was fine, Theo.”

“Yeah, you said that but I’m just not believing it,” I shrug.

“You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“Ouch, ” I chuckle, accepting the blow in hopes that it can somehow make her feel a little bit better. “You know, before you got here, Evie and Harvey told me about their sweet, new roommate who was coming all the way from Georgia. But I must say, you sure do lack that southern hospitality they were speaking so highly of.”

“You can shove my southern hospitality right up your a—”

“Message received,” I cut her off defensively, unsure how much more my ego can take from her witty mouth. “I’ll let you go cry in peace.”

Nora’s head darts up after the dig leaves my mouth, and as I watch her eyes pool with more tears, I instantly regret what I’ve said. “You are such a dick!”

She yanks up her bookbag and storms off to the very back of the train.

Dammit, dammit, dammit. You fucked up, Theo. Fix it .

“Nora, wait,” I call after her, following her to the back carriage. I’m grateful there aren’t any other people back here to witness what a bloody idiot I’m making myself out to be. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset.”

“Save it. I’ve heard enough bullshit apologies for the night.” She crosses her arms against her chest defiantly and forces her gaze out the window again, but I can tell she’s still crying.

What has made her so upset tonight? After hearing that last comment, I sure as hell know now that it didn’t all start with me.

Before I know it, the train wheels are squealing to a stop again, and I don’t have a chance to speak another word before the doors open, and Nora rises from her seat.

I lightly catch hold of her arm before she can leave. “Where the hell are you going, Nora? You know your flat is in the other direction, right?”

“I don’t care,” she snaps, yanking her arm back. “I’m tired of tonight. I need an escape, and I want off this stupid freaking train!”

“Stop,” I request, tugging her arm again. “You don’t even know where you are. I’m not letting you get off at this station by yourself.”

“I want off the train, Theo.”

I know she’s gonna do as she bloody pleases, so I release her and step off onto the platform, too. “Fine, we’ll get off the train then.”

“I don’t want you coming with me.”

“Yeah, well, that’s too damn bad because you’re mental if you think I’m gonna let you storm off in some foreign city you don’t know shit about.”

“I’m sorry, are you stuck in the 20th century? I can handle myself just fine, thank you.”

“Assume whatever you want, but I’m not letting you walk alone.”

“I didn’t know you were suddenly the boss of me and what I do?”

“Would you quit being so damn obstinate?”

“No,” she replies matter of factly, “I won’t.”

“You are so frustrating, you know that?”

“Yeah, well, so are you! Now, leave me alone.” She slips from my grip and starts storming away again.

“You want an escape?” My words stop Nora dead in her tracks. I’m surprised when she turns back to me and stares, waiting to hear what I have to say next. “Come with me. ”

“Come with you?” she scoffs. “I don’t think so.”

“Just come on,” I roll my eyes, getting fed up with arguing back and forth.“You have no clue where you’re going in the first place. Do you want an escape? I can give you one. You can think of it as an opportunity to get your mind off of whatever it is making you so upset tonight.”

“I’m not upset,” she mumbles, clearly upset.

“Just come.”

Silence lingers for a few short breaths before she finally sighs, “ Fine .”

“Good,” I say, crossing my arms against my chest as I bite back the smile threatening my lips. “Now get your arse back on that train because there’s no way in hell we’re gonna be walking the whole way there.”

“Not until you ask me nicely.”

“Nora, for the sake of my sanity tonight—”

“ Mmm-mmm .” She shakes her head disapprovingly. “I said nicely. ”

“Nora,” I start over, clearing my throat. “Can you please get back on the damn train?”

“Now, was that so hard?”

“Oh, bite my arse.” I wave her off, but I can’t ignore how much lighter my chest feels than it did moments ago.

As we settle back down in our seats on the train, I try to ignore how fucking relieved I feel to have her accepting my company tonight.