Tanya was the first to speak. ‘Hi Freya. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you here.’
‘I’ve been busy with one thing and another. Just had a hankering for my favourite cocktail tonight.’ She lifted her slender shoulders in a small shrug. ‘Only Luke seems to make it just how I like it.’
Mia didn’t want to get into a sparring game with the woman, but it was hard to forget what a bitch she’d been the last time she’d seen her. ‘He is a genius at cocktails,’ she remarked mildly.
Freya smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. ‘It seems he’s also a genius at keeping women interested. Look at us, his first, his latest and the one before her. All hoping for some attention from him.’
The atmosphere became charged and while Mia quietly fumed – his latest, gee, thanks – it was Tanya who made the first riposte. ‘You must be talking about yourself, Freya. I’m only here to order some drinks.’
At that moment Luke glanced over at her. His huge smile, the sexy wink, were exactly what she needed. ‘And the advantage of being his latest,’ Mia added, ‘is I’m not hoping for attention.’ She made sure to catch Freya’s eyes. ‘I know I’m going to get it.’
Murmuring to Tanya that she’d go and find Chloe and the gang, Mia walked away, her mouth curving in a tacky, but hugely satisfying smirk.
By eleven o’clock the bar was quiet enough for Luke to come and find Mia. Taking her hand, he gently pulled her away from the girls. ‘Come with me. I’ve got something I need to talk to you about.’
‘Oh?’ she grinned. ‘Is that a euphemism for something, because if it is, I’m totally up for it.’
He cocked an eyebrow, the green in his eyes darkening. ‘Oh yeah?’ He tugged her into his office.
As soon as he’d closed the door, he pushed her against it and lowered his head. ‘God, you’re sexy.’ His eyes fell to her lips. ‘I so want to kiss the hell out of you right now.’ He heaved out a sigh. ‘But it’s going to have to wait, because I need to get back out to Mateo.’
When she looked up at him, she saw a smidgen of tension on his face. ‘What’s wrong?’
He reached for her hand. ‘Pete came into the bar earlier.’
Mia tensed, a chill running through her. ‘Pete, as in my ex?’
‘Yes. He was looking for you.’
Unbalanced, Mia wrenched her hand from his grasp. ‘How the hell did he find me here?’
‘Apparently you liked one of the posts about the bar. He put two and two together and came here.’
‘Shit, I forgot to unfriend him.’ She started to pace the small room. ‘How stupid am I? I went to the trouble of getting a new number and I didn’t think to bloody remove him from my Facebook friends.’
‘Hey, it’s okay. I don’t think he’ll trouble you again.’
Though his smile was clearly meant to reassure, there was something in Luke’s dark expression that sent a shiver across her skin. ‘What did you do?’
‘I warned him off.’
‘Jesus.’ She couldn’t believe this was happening. Not just that Pete had followed her up here, but that Luke had met him and seen with his own eyes how appalling her judgement had been. Worse even than that though, was that he’d felt the need to scare Pete off. It was mortifying. ‘That wasn’t for you to do. He’s my issue.’
‘Not if he’s a threat to my girlfriend.’
Anger fizzed now, alongside the embarrassment. ‘You should have asked him to wait. You knew I was coming to the bar.’
Luke’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. ‘Sure, I could have done that. Even better, I could have phoned you to warn you he was here. Dashed up to your flat to tell you in person. But I couldn’t do either of those things, could I?’
Slowly her anger cooled, replaced by shame. What sort of girlfriend was she if she couldn’t trust the man she was sleeping with enough to give him her ruddy phone number? Her address?
The strained silence was broken by a knock on the door and Mateo’s voice came through the woodwork. ‘Need you out here, boss.’
Luke exhaled sharply and walked towards the door. Gripping the handle, he turned and gave her a sad smile. ‘Sorry, but I can’t apologise for what I said to Pete. He needed to be told, so he wouldn’t come and pester you again.’
Maybe he was right, but she’d moved here to prove she could manage by herself without her family. Without a boyfriend. Now she’d not only found herself with one, she was terrified she was becoming dependent on him. ‘I think it’s best if I go home.’ Pete being here, the altercation with Freya at the bar… Mia needed to go back and regroup.
Hurt flashed across Luke’s face. ‘If that’s what you want.’
‘It isn’t, but it’s what I think I should do.’ With a heavy heart, she pointed to her head. ‘I’ve got stuff going on in here that I need to work through.’
The ache in her chest intensified as he gave her a final searching look before walking out and closing the door behind him. Left by herself, she cursed Pete for turning up and buggering up the Saturday night she’d been looking forward to all day.
It was only later, when she was back at her flat, that the truth dawned on her. It wasn’t Pete who’d ruined the evening. It was her, for letting him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Luke woke the following morning to an empty space beside him, and a gnawing emptiness in his chest. Alone in his bed, he went over and over the conversation with Mia in his office from last night, trying to see it from her side.
Had it felt like he was interfering in her life? She’d told him many times how much she needed to prove she could manage by herself. It had been part of why she’d been so determined not to start a relationship with him. So yeah, maybe he’d been heavy handed. With guys like Pete though, sometimes only a threat would work. Could he have done it more subtly though, and in a way that left Mia in control?
If he’d told Pete to come back to the bar later, talk to her when the bar was shut, he could still have protected her, still have made sure Pete knew he had her back, but done it by staying in the background.
Damn it, he’d cocked up.
Pushing the duvet off, he strode into the spare room and headed to the sheets of paper. He’d message her, apologise for being an overbearing prick. But when he glanced at her window, he saw she’d beaten him to it.
Can we talk
* * *
Plz
His heart sank. How many times in life did the words we need to talk lead to anything good? Grabbing his marker pen, he scrawled:
Here?
* * *
Now?
A few seconds later, his heart flip flipped:
U 2 me?
A moment later a second message:
Flat 214
He inhaled sharply, his mind a jumble. Could this really be bad news if she was finally telling him where she lived? Or had she been forced to do that because she’d lost her key/had to stay in for a delivery/any other crappy reason he could drive himself mad thinking about? Quickly he messaged back: