Can't Turn Back Now, I'm Haunted (A Ben Willbond Rom Com)

Chapter Nine | Darling I Fancy You

"I seem to recall you saying very clearly that there was no one fanciable at the new gig," said Kamie with a cocked eyebrow and a teasing smile. "How does it feel to be a filthy rotten American liar??"

I scoffed in offense, unable to keep from laughing. We were walking through the main square in the Tower of London, warming our hands against the chilly air with two large, hot coffees. She had, obviously, texted me back immediately with a million shocked-looking emojis and exclamation points, and when I had replied with "I'll tell you all about it if you come do touristy things with me on my day off," she had no choice but to agree.

"If you'll cast your mind back," I argued, holding up a protesting finger. "You posited that theory, and I simply did not respond."

"Cunning," she said, shaking her head and taking a sip of her oat milk latte.

"Besides," I continued, feeling a little sheepish. "At the time, he wasn't available."

"Oh, for god's sake," she scoffed with a smile. "You said yourself they weren't even official yet, and she was patently unpleasant, so you can stop feeling guilty, even though I know you love it so."

"I guess," I mused.

"Also, I'd like to congratulate myself on making that match."

"Oh really? How do you figure that one?"

"I put you two in to do karaoke! You can't tell me this didn't happen because of my meddling."

I laughed, partially because it was at least a tiny bit true.

"Oh!" I threw my hand out to stop her and pointed excitedly to a set of stairs that descended down into the river, stopped with a large wooden gate. "According to the podcast I listened to last night, that's Traitor's Gate — the Tudors brought all their prisoners through there and some historians even say this is where Anne Boleyn arrived when she came for her beheading!"

"Maggie, why on earth are we talking about Tudors right now when you've got an amazing hookup story to share?"

"Hey! You grew up with this stuff taught in school, this is crazy for me — the oldest buildings in America that we run into are like the late sixteen-hundreds."

"Because colonizers."

"Right. These guys, actually." I gestured around.

"Not my lot!" Kamie raised her cup. "I'm happy to say my Nigerian ancestors had nothing to do with that."

"Fair point. That was more my ancestors, realistically. But my point is," I pointed at the large yellow castle looming up from the stones. "That building is like a thousand years old. And that's crazy!"

"Speaking of a thousand years old," Kamie put a hand on my arm and leaned in to speak more quietly. "How's the age difference? Is it weird?"

"He's not seventy-five, Kamie!" I laughed, considering the question. "It really wasn't weird... I actually think it's kind of hot, is that weird?"

"That's between you and your therapist, babes," she replied with a good-humored chuckle. Then, she examined my face, which was involuntarily sporting a blush. "Oh you LIKE this guy, don't you?"

"I hardly know him!" I shrugged and laughed. "Seriously, it's only been like a week and a half, he's practically a stranger!"

"And...?"

I sighed and stopped walking.

"Yes, I do like him." I felt my heart quicken and a shudder of anxiety wisp through my body like a ghost. "But I know how these things go. I've gotten involved with a costar before, remember? It doesn't end well."