Paul was waiting for me when I got home. He was sitting on the doorstep looking cold and contrite. I gave him an equally cold stare as I searched for my keys.
He opened his mouth but I cut him off before he could say anything. "Don't bother apologizing," I said and stepped around him to unlock the door.
Getting up, he quietly followed me, totally silent even when he was ensconced on my sofa surveying the room. "Nice flat," he eventually said.
"I like it," I said as I went into the kitchen to fill the kettle.
"Where's your boyfriend?" he asked when I plonked a cup of tea down in front of him and sat at the other end of the sofa.
"He's not my boyfriend and it's none of your business anyway."
"He had a lovely shiner. I hope you're not getting mixed up with the wrong kind."
I had to laugh at that."Where have you been Paul? No one knew where you were."
"Did you want to know where I was?" he asked, reaching out and attempting to touch my hair but I pulled away. "Been looking for me have you?"
"No. It's other people who were worried. I couldn't give a shit."
"You are such a liar," he said calmly and picked up his tea, fixing me with his unnerving dark stare. "Bet you've missed me. Bet your pretty boy hasn't been hitting your sweet spot."
"Don't," I warned.
He grinned and slurped on the tea. "I've missed you, babe. That's why I came back - to see how my Sarah was doing. And it looks like you're doing great," he said, looking around. "Nice flat. Nice hunky boyfriend. Looks like you've forgotten all about Paul here."
I didn't like his tone of voice. When he started speaking calmly like that it usually meant he was working up to something. And when he referred to himself in the third person it didn't bode well either.
"I must say," he said, casually putting his mug back down on the coffee table, "It must be pretty useful, shagging a copper."
"Shagging a what?"
"A copper. A pig. The fuzz."
"What are you talking about?"
"That wanker you had in here last night. He threatened me with arrest, the gobshite."
I had no idea what he was talking about. If Jake had threatened him with arrest when the hell had he done it?
"He's not a copper," I said. Jake wasn't a policeman. That was ridiculous. Hadn't Nina and I decided he was a builder or something? Mind you, he had dealt with the whole Paul situation last night with considerable poise. And that reminded me.
"Why were you waking all my neighbours up at eleven o'clock last night?" I asked.
"I wanted to talk to you."
"And you were pissed."
"That as well," he smirked.
"Well now you're here, talk to me."
"I don't feel like it now," he said, standing up. "Just wanted to see your digs. Check you were doing OK."
I didn't believe him but I wasn't going to push him.
"Got business to attend to," he said pompously. I could imagine what kind of business that might be, and when he reached the door, he added, "I'll be in London for a while, babe. I'll be keeping an eye on you," and he turned the handle and opened the door.
Jake was standing outside on the landing.
---
I could hear voices inside Sarah's flat. I knew I should just go into my own flat, have a shower, make some dinner, forget my bloody fuck buddy for a while. But I couldn't. I had been worrying about her all day and I was hardly going to walk off now when that bastard might be inside there right now doing God knows what.
Much to my relief, the voices sounded quite normal and friendly, but I still stood there on the landing like some bloody stalker. Not a stalker, Jake. A concerned neighbour. A concerned officer of the law, in fact. I was preventing crime by lurking around out here.
Then the door opened without warning and and there was a huge Scotsman glaring at me with penetrating dark brown eyes. He was certainly a big bastard, even compared to me. Then I saw with relief that Sarah was there too, looking untouched and unruffled. In fact she looked pretty damned hot in tightly fitting trousers and a red silk blouse. And annoyed. She was scowling at me.
"Jake," she said through apparently gritted teeth. "What are you doing out here?"
The Scotsman laughed loudly, overly white teeth gleaming as he threw back his head. Twat.
What could I say? "Nothing," I muttered, feeling like a total idiot. "Just got home from work," and I shuffled towards my door.
The giant Scotsman laughed again, so heartily I could feel his breath ruffle the hair on the back of my head.
"You're fucking the neighbour are you, babe?" he laughed.
I froze. What a complete twat he was. It was a long time since I had taken such an instant dislike to someone. Behind me, I sensed Sarah gritting her teeth. Then I heard her close her door.
I turned round. The Scotsman was grinning at me, like a lizard.
"Hands off Sarah," he said. "I don't care if you're a fucking cop. I don't care if you're the fucking Head of Scotland Yard, but keep your hands off my sister."
His sister? I stood gobsmacked by that piece of information and watched him descend the stairs as my confused thoughts tried to make some sense out if it all.
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YOU ARE READING
No Strings
RomanceSarah is feeling good about her life. She has a new flat, a boss who appreciates her and no strings sex from the hottie next door. But she ought to know that when things are going this well something is bound to screw it up.