When New York and London Collide

Chapter 12

Chase Kennedy

"I'm going to kill him." She muttered, plugging her phone into the charger I had in my car. Laughing under my breath, I looked over to see her leaning against the window, brows furrowed.

"So, Liam's apartment?" I asked. That's when she must have finally realised that we're in the same car together. She moved her elbow away from the window and nodded. It was a rare moment to see Celine look anything close to sad. Not upset, sad. And I knew, beneath all the cursing and threats of murder, that she was hurt that Liam left her in the club alone without telling her. A cold and confident facade could only hide so much. And as much as I could tell Celine hated it, she was more emotional than she let on. So, I left her alone. My goal was to make her annoyed, irritated, upset. Not beat her when she's down. That's low, even for me.

"Wait!" She suddenly said. Looking over, I caught her digging through her purse. "I don't have the keys!" She groaned. Well fuck. Where was I supposed to take her now?

Her phone finally had enough battery, so she used it to call Liam. Seriously, you'd think the guy would answer the first time she called, yet she's still trying. When he didn't answer, again, she looked over. We were at a red light, so I too turned over.

"Maybe I could wait at your place?" Her voice softened and fingers interlocked. I never thought I'd see the day where Celine Haufftner would be begging. Though I guessed she was scared that I'd dump her at the side of the road. I was annoying and cocky, but I wasn't heartless. And I wasn't about to put her in danger by leaving her alone in the dark in the middle of nowhere. It'd be defeating the purpose of even giving her a ride home in the first place.

"Fine, but I'm making sure Liam comes and get you." I agreed. Hearing her breathe a soft sigh of relief, I took a left turn instead of a right, and drove us both to my place instead.

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"Come on!" She said. It's her fifth time calling Liam in the last hour, and of course, she hasn't gotten an answer. Walking down with a blanket and some pillows, I threw it onto my long couch and turned it into a decent looking bed. There was no way in hell I'd offer her a guest bedroom. I didn't want to give her any hope of me getting softer. It wouldn't be a good image. Besides, I still couldn't stand her, nothing had changed.

"Just sleep trouble. He's probably just busy," I lied for him. I didn't like lying, or being lied to, but in this instance, I'd say it's more of a bluff. And anyway, I didn't want to be the one revealing Liam's dirty secret to her. She'd probably think I was out to get her anyway, and that was a can of worms I did not want to open.

"Ugh!" She shouted, throwing her phone across the room. Feisty, as usual. But even more when she's actually, genuinely, angry. Sitting on the couch and pulling the blanket over, I watched her wrap herself comfortably before I walked back upstairs. There, I tossed and turned, the constant need to make sure she was okay and asleep haunted me. I don't know why. I hated her, and everything about her. Spoiled, privileged, from a wealthy and loving family. She represented everything I never had, which might explain my disdain for her.

"Fuck it."

Giving in, I made sure my steps were as soft as a lion creeping onto its prey, and walked downstairs. Letting out a sigh of relief when I saw her sleeping peacefully, head resting softly with her blonde curls covering a part of her face, phone still halfway across the living room, I went back up, going to sleep.