Page 17 of Storm in a Teacup (Love in Edinburgh #3)

Ben

After we arrive back in Edinburgh, Linny and I walk together from Waverly. She’s heading home, and I’m heading to the café. Once we reach the doors to her flat and Somewhere Special, we stop and look at each other. I’d like to hug her goodbye, but she crosses her arms, shutting that down.

“Want a coffee or anything?” I ask, shoving my hands in my trouser pockets.

“I’m okay.”

I give a jerk of my head. “Well, this has been fun. I’ll let you know about dinner.”

“Please do.”

“Text me when you get home?”

Her face falls flat, eyes flashing to her front door. “You mean, when I get up the stairs?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

We go our separate directions. I walk into the café to see a few people sitting at tables engaging in light chatter, and Rachel behind the counter. She smiles as I drag my suitcase inside .

“Shouldn’t Gemma be behind the counter?” Gemma is one of the two employees Isla and I hired, who is supposed to be working today.

“Isla let her leave about twenty minutes ago. Did you walk here from the station?” she asks as she messes with the espresso machine.

“Yeah.” I guide my suitcase behind the counter as I join her. On the counter are notebooks with scribbles of things I likely won’t be able to make sense of, but I think I see the words “microplastic” and “algae” about a dozen times.

“That’s a gross amount of energy you have. How was London?” She turns around, handing a cup of hot coffee to me. I accept it with a mutter of thanks.

“Good. Expensive. London.” I take a sip. “You make a good coffee for someone who hates it.”

“Everyone I love has an aggressive caffeine addiction,” she says gravely.

Isla pushes out of the swinging door to the kitchen. “And how was Linny?”

I attempt to hide the shock on my face. I did not tell them who I was going to London with. “She’s wonderful,” I answer, eyes narrowed. “Who told you?”

Isla smirks, leaning back against the wall as she assesses me. “David said something about you and her dating. Also, Linny’s aunt came in yesterday and mentioned she was in London for a joint hen and stag do. You said you were going for a last-minute stag do. Doesn’t take a genius.”

“That’s a lot of conclusions to jump to,” I gripe into my mug.

“Aye, and you confirmed them when you answered how Linny was.” She whacks me on the arm. “So, what’s up with that? Are you seeing each other?”

I consider telling them the truth because I am not looking for more people to lie to, but I can’t tell them the truth, then lie to David.

Especially because it would come out that I lied rather quickly.

David and Rachel are close. And once they discovered I lied to him, I would have to explain why. So, I do lie and say, “Sort of.”

Rachel snorts. “You went away together for a weekend. Feels like more than sort of. Why haven’t you said anything about her?”

I try to tell as much truth as I can. “Because it’s new.”

Isla and Rachel exchange a look. I hate when they do that.

Isla asks, “So you decided to take a spontaneous trip to London for a hen and stag do of a couple you don’t know with a woman you just started seeing? That’s weirder than when you were driving here from Newtonmore practically every other day.”

I groan. Okay. Fine. So, when I was figuring out the David of it all, I was coming to Edinburgh a lot to visit him.

And Isla. I dispersed my time. But Newtonmore is a two-hour drive one way on a good day.

Yes, it was mad. But driving all that way gave me a lot of time to think. I needed a lot of time to think.

I ignore the comment about the drive and say, “Her ex-fiancé is in the bridal party. He’s a proper arse. Partners were allowed to attend, so I offered to go as support. I like her, so why would I not?”

Isla groans back at me. “You are always doing nice things. It’s bloody annoying.”

Rachel makes a face. “You say that like you’re not constantly doing nice things for people.”

“Yeah, but I do it more quietly.” She loops an arm around Rachel’s waist.

“Sure.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I pull it out, grateful to have a distraction from this conversation. I smile when I see that the message is from Linny.

LINNY: Home

She included a picture of a cat sitting on her chest. Most of the photo is overtaken by gray fur, but I can see her crystal blues peeking out from behind the cat.

Isla distracts herself from her girlfriend long enough to glimpse over my shoulder at my phone. “Who’s that?”

“Oscar Wilde,” I say, remembering the name of her cat.

Isla nods in approval. “Dead queer icon texting you. That’s cool.”

I let out half a laugh. “I just came to check on my kitchen and get a head start on tomorrow.”

I pivot around the counter, heading to the back and taking my coffee and suitcase with me, feeling thoroughly done with the conversation about Linny. The café will be closing soon, so I put in my headphones and pull out flour, butter, and sugar, more than ready to lose myself in this bake.

…

A few days later, Linny and I are set to meet at the restaurant where we’re having dinner with David and Callum.

I have not seen her since we separated after the train station.

I kept meaning to run over and bring her a cup of coffee or a muffin or something, but the café has been busy.

Thankfully, I suppose. She hasn’t stopped by either, so there’s that.

I arrive at the restaurant and take a peek inside to see David and Callum already seated. I pull back from the window, figuring I’ll wait for Linny out here. She approaches a little while later and smiles when she spots me.

“Are we waiting for David and his boyfriend still?” she asks.

“No. They’re in there. I was waiting for you. ”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Are you being a chicken?”

“ No ,” I emphasize. Honestly, I noticed it’s a little dark in the restaurant, but I figure if I say that aloud, she may get annoyed with me for thinking she can’t do it by herself.

Which, fair. I know she can. Maybe I am being a chicken.

I change the subject when I look at the plaster affixed under her right brow.

I reach out, causing her to flinch back.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her full body angled away from me as her eyes find my hand, still hovering near her face.

I chuckle. “Looking at your injury.” I reach for her face again and gently press my thumb above her brow, brushing downward toward the bandage. She settles back into me, angling her head up so I can see as I lean forward, just a breath away now. “How’s it doing?”

“Fine,” she grumbles. “Mostly healed. It's just a big, ugly, red, crusty line now. The band-aid is less noticeable, so that’s why I still have it on.”

“Think it’ll scar?”

“No.”

“Damn. That would be cute.”

She rolls her eyes and pulls away from my hand. “Should we go in or are you still being a chicken?”

“You’re a chicken,” I mumble, reaching for her hand as I open the door with my other, letting her go in first, but then leading the way to the table.

They don’t see us right away, so I clear my throat.

“David,” I say, immediately wishing it came out better than the slight squeak that exited my mouth.

He turns around quickly. “Hey, man.” He gets up and gives me a hug, which I accept with one arm, my hand still holding tightly to Linny’s. He releases me and gives Linny a quick hello as we round the table to sit down .

I introduce Linny and Callum since this is their first time meeting. Callum’s curly hair is longer than when I last saw him—long enough to pull into a bun atop his head.

Linny says, “Hi. Nice to meet you,” but does so while taking a very long time to remove her coat and hang it over the back of her chair.

Since I know better, I know she is doing this as a way to avoid shaking Callum’s hand, which he has not had the chance to extend while she is preoccupied.

Or, rather, to avoid missing an extended hand with the intention to shake.

Once her coat is off, I place a hand on her back, more of a reassurance for me than for her. She pats my leg, then says to David and Callum, “Ben said you all met at uni?”

Callum corrects, “Ben and I actually met in sixth form. I transferred to his school after GCSEs.”

I hum in confirmation, having a hard time meeting Callum’s eye. He’s my friend as well, and I feel incredibly guilty for my attempt at ruining what he and David have. It wasn’t like I did it with mal intent—it was a poor judgment call. I was being selfish, thinking only of myself and my feelings.

David smiles, glancing at Callum. “Ben and I met first term of uni when I was freshly moved back here from the States. We had one class together, and during the first week, Ben sat next to me, started talking my ear off, then asked me to get lunch. The rest was history.”

I give a stiff nod, repeating, “The rest was history.”

The night continues, and I am embarrassed to admit that I let Linny lead most of the conversation, keeping to myself.

I mean, she’s doing amazingly by asking knowledgeable questions about David’s Ph.D.

and Callum’s work. I have no idea what a microcontroller is, but she seems to.

Fuck , she’s beautiful and smart. I’m so happy to have her by my side tonight.

I’m not moping, I’m not, but I don’t know what to say. We get our food and continue the light conversation throughout, but I cannot help but note how surface-level it all is. I hate it. I hate that I did this to us.

After I finish my meal, I excuse myself to the toilet. I use the facilities, wash my hands, then run into David as I’m leaving. I step back, retreating into the WC with him following me. God, like I’m running away.

“You okay?” he asks, eyeing me worriedly.

“Fine,” I grit out.

“Ben. You’ve been quiet all evening. You haven’t been you.”

I swallow. “I haven’t felt like me,” I admit. “Not for a while.”

David looks around, like he’s making sure we’re alone in here. “Because of me?”