Page 20 of The Loneliest Number (The Thirst Trap #3)

Chapter nineteen

Cam

I hold in a breath, hoping she’ll agree. Pleasure spreads through me at her nod.

“How about at my place?” I push my luck.

“There are showers here,” she replies.

“I know, but if you come to mine, we can snuggle after,” I say with a wink. Is she going to admit that she likes that? Or fight me on it?

“Do you have snacks?”

“It’s twenty-four-hour room service. How do hot chips sound?”

“Fucking amazing. Playing always makes me ravenous. Let’s go.”

Okay, so maybe it was the hot chips rather than my company that won her over, but I’ll take anything right now. Hopefully, I’ll be able to lure her into a snuggle once she’s full of potatoes.

“They do amazing hash browns too. We could order those as a side dish.”

“Fuck, Cam, you just had me, but here you are trying to seduce me with potatoes.”

“Is it working?” I ask.

“One thousand per cent, yes.”

We make our way back to the changing room and Abby switches her robe for some leggings and a t-shirt, topping it with her coat. She adds the sky scraper heels which should look odd but my cock gives a twitch at the sight. Maybe I will get the heels round my ears before the night is through.

It’s a wrench the next morning when I wake up alone, my muscles and arse sore from the pounding my body took as Dan and Abby had their way with me.

Last night was mind-blowing. And she’d been keen to come back for fries.

I’d even convinced her to have a tiny snuggle.

But she’d wriggled free of my bear hug much sooner than I’d hoped to head back to her own place.

I could tell from the mulish expression on her face that her mind was made up, so that was that.

I wanted her to stay, but it’s clear to me that her independence means a lot to her. If I can only have her for playtime and sharing potato-based meals, then so be it. That’s what I’ll take. But frustration twists in my belly as I hope for more.

Golden light creeps toward me across the white sheets as the sun breaches the windows.

I rarely shut the curtains in this room, enjoying looking out at the city—seeing the twinkly lights at night and the hum of activity in the daylight hours.

That’s when I make it back to the hotel in daylight hours.

I’ve been putting in long days at The Juniper.

Trying to get the team working well together.

And this week, we’ve started rudimentary work on the apartment on the upper floor as well as the work we’re doing on the basement.

I’m planning to move into the top floor once the basics are ready: running water and a shower, a door to shut out the dust, and windows that don’t leak.

I don’t need much, so a basic fit out will be fine for now and allow me more time to work in the building.

We’ll fit it out to a more luxurious standard as the rest of the work progresses.

One of the ideas for the top floor was to turn it into a small boutique hotel with a couple of rooms. I’m still mulling that one over.

For now, a luxury flat sounds like a good shout.

And I don’t even know what I’m doing when the building is finished yet.

Sell it? That doesn’t sit right with me when my grandmother bequeathed it to me.

Or put a manager in? I don’t have a clue how to run that kind of venue.

I’ll need some kind of help. Tom from the Thirst Trap comes to mind.

He was really friendly when we met and eager for a tour, too.

He did offer to answer any questions I might have about the hospitality side of the business, given he’s been involved with that for years.

My phone buzzing from the nightstand draws my attention and I reach over to look at who’s calling before answering with a smile. “Saffy, how are you?”

“Hey, I’m good. How are you? I miss you,” she tells me, her tone sounding wistful.

“I’m doing okay. Getting stuck into the renovations now. Might even be able to move into the top floor in the next few weeks.”

“I hope you’re not working too hard,” she says. “I know how intense you get when you’re in a project. And I know this one means a lot to you.”

“It does. I promise I’m trying not to overdo it. How’s work for you?”

“Yeah, okay. We’ve had a big shoot this week, I’m knackered. Been working crazy hours to catch the morning and the evening light. But I’m really pleased with some of the shots I got.”

She chats for a while about work, and I enjoy listening.

“It’s good to hear from you. Were you calling just for a catch up?” I ask when her flow begins to slow.

“I was wondering if I could come and visit you?” she asks.

“Of course. When?”

“I don’t have anything on next weekend and it would be nice to swap this city for another for a couple of days. Can you take the time off?”

“For you, of course. Actually, there’s someone else down here you might be keen to catch up with. And they might be helping me with the not working too hard thing, too,” I tell her, amping up my mysterious tone.

“What? Who?”

“Remember Pixie? The woman we–” I break off as she interrupts.

“You found her,” she exclaims.

“Well, she kinda found me. Turns out The Juniper is just down the road from where she works. She spotted me walking to work one day.”

“No fucking way. What a crazy coincidence,” she shrieks, and I hold the phone away from my ear to save my eardrum from any damage. “So, are you guys together?” she asks.

“I wouldn’t say together but we’ve hung out a few times.

She’s fun. Her independent streak is even wider than yours though, so she tends to keep me at an arm’s length unless that arm is bringing her pleasure.

” Her independence is what heats my blood; whether it’s frustrating me or turning me on.

I quietly admit to myself that I’m enjoying the challenge of pushing back and seeing where it gets me.

Saff chuckles. “And do you know her name yet?”

“I do. It’s…” I pause, wondering if it’s okay to share. “How ‘bout she can tell you herself next weekend,” I suggest.

“Of course. I’ve got the flight options open now.” She runs me through the flights and she picks out the best ones. I agree to meet her at the airport on Friday afternoon and drop her back there on Sunday evening.

“It’ll be good to see you. We can have a proper catch up. And I’ll tell you what, I’ll keep the hotel for next weekend so you’re not slumming it at The Juniper with no carpet or curtains.”

“Thank goodness for that, although I would like to see the building.”

“Of course, I’ll give you the full tour.”

And as we hang up, I remember I owe Abby the full tour as well, now we’ve got the flooring properly secured. Perhaps I can show them both together.

I fire off a quick text to Abby to see if she has any spare time next weekend and then get ready for my day.

It’s a couple of hours before I hear back from her.

Pixie:

I’m working Friday afternoon and evening. And same on Saturday. I have Sunday off. Why?

Me:

Saff is coming to visit, and I wondered if you’d like a tour of The Juniper with her?

Pixie:

So damn much. I don’t think I can get the time off work though. I start at 2 pm on Saturday until close. There’s footie on, so it will be all hands on deck.

Me:

We could do brunch and the tour on Saturday morning? She’s here until Sunday night if you want to do something with us on Sunday.

Pixie:

Something? Is that a euphemism, big guy?

Me:

Can be if you want it to be *eyebrow waggling GIF*

Pixie:

I’ll keep Sunday clear, and we can play it by ear.

Me:

Busy week?

Pixie:

So so, but nice to have something to look forward to at the weekend.

Me:

Let me know if you’re at a loose end this week, and we can do “something”.

Pixie:

I’ll keep that in mind. Gotta go. Catch ya later, big guy.

On Friday evening, I stand at the arrivals hall in London City Airport watching the people flood through from baggage collection. Saff’s flight landed on time ten minutes ago, but I don’t know how long it will take for her to come through. Surely for two nights, she just brought hand luggage.

But fifteen minutes later, I’m still waiting. I shoot her a text:

Me:

You did make the flight, didn’t you? I’m waiting but I don’t see you.

Saff:

Just waiting for my bags. It’s so slooooow. I’ll see you soon, I hope.

And a few minutes later, I spot her auburn curls flowing freely as she follows an elderly couple through the sliding doors. She’s talking to them animatedly and dragging a massive suitcase behind her. What the fuck?

She gives them both a big grin and says goodbye before she spots me waiting with the sign I promised I’d bring so she’d look famous or rich. I hold up the sheet of paper scrawled with ‘Ms Saffron Stewart’ and wave it in her direction.

“Pah, I don’t think much of that. I was expecting it to be typed out and laminated at the very least,” she says, pulling me down for a hug and planting a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

I give her a squeeze, surprised when she stays in situ, making no effort to step away from the hug.

“Okay, Saff?” I whisper into her crazy hair in the vicinity of her ears.

I pull back slightly, still keeping my arms around her, to see tears welling in her eyes.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” I tell her, taking control of her suitcase while keeping one arm wrapped around her and leading us towards the door.

“You wanna experience the DLR and the tube on a Friday afternoon, or shall we just take a cab?” I ask her.

“How long will each take?” Her tears have dried up, which I’m relieved to see, but I’m still going to check with her later and find out what’s up. It’s not like her at all.

“They’re probably both as long as each other,” I say with a wince.

“Fuck it, let’s try the underground then. At least it’ll be cheaper.”

I lead her to the station, and we stop at the machines to buy her a ticket before heading to the platform. I’m pleasantly surprised that people aren’t quite packed in like sardines while they wait, so perhaps we’ll miss the worst of rush hour.

“Let’s head to the hotel and ditch your bag, then we can go and get dinner. Sound good?” I check, and she nods. “You’ve not been to London before?”

“Only once, as a kid with my mum and an aunt. But I’m excited to see it now. You gonna give me a tour?”

“Not of the whole city, but we can work out what you’re most keen to see and go there. How does that sound?”

We have a couple of changes to make to get to the tube station nearest my hotel and then traipse down the road to the main entrance.

“I asked the front desk to make up the sofa bed in the living room. You can have the big bed and I’ll take the couch.” I tell her as we make our way up in the lift.

“Thanks, Cam, I appreciate it.” Her smile is weary, and I wonder if now is the time to push for what’s up. We walk along the corridor to my room, and I give her the short tour and leave her in the bedroom to freshen up.

I’ve not heard from Abby since our text conversation earlier in the week, and I need to make arrangements with her about the tour.

I’d been hoping she would have reached out to spend time together before the weekend, but she’s been quiet, and it’s been difficult to respect that. Perhaps it’s time for another push.

I check the time, realising that she’s probably already started work by now, so there’s no point in calling her. I’ll have to text her later to make arrangements for brunch.

Frustration bubbles in my gut as I think that it always seems to be me chasing her. When we’re together, I know she’s into me, but I can’t help but wonder if she’d make the effort if I didn’t approach her first. I force myself to shake off the disappointment when Saff re-emerges from the bedroom.