Queen of my Heart

27

IF LOOKS COULD KILL . . .

I'd still be alive, thank God. Sander, on the other hand, may not be.

“Why does she keep looking at us like that?” he asked, standing beside me behind the counter.

I pretended to be counting the bills on my hand. “Looking at you.” I looked up at him. “Because she's jealous.”

His eyes crinkled as his lips stretched in a mischievous grin. “Is this the part where I lean in and kiss you?”

Do I still want to live?

Yes. Yes, I do.

Fortunately, a woman walked up to me for her order before I could give Sander an answer, but he was still waiting for me to finish accommodating the costumer.

I swear this guy was a total arsehole.

I focused on the chiming bells above the door. “What the bloody hell is your problem?” I said, trying to still my heartbeat as Sander sidled up closer to me.

I didn't fancy him like that, but having a very attractive bloke follow you around affected me after some time.

Not to mention we were playing this dangerous game of love.

His breath tickled my ear. “You sound like a real English person right now.”

I rolled my eyes. I seemed to be doing that a lot with him. “I always speak like I'm from England, thanks very much.”

He wasn't pulling away. “And why is that?”

I could've faked an answer, could've covered the truth with a last-minute joke. But I didn't.

“We lived in England when I was a kid.”

He clearly didn't notice the faint catch in my breath. “And then?”

There was a lump in my throat. “My parents died.” I won't cry. I won't cry. I met his gaze, saw the surprise flitting in his eyes, followed by sympathy. “Please don't say sorry,” I whispered, because I was afraid my voice will break if I spoke louder.

I was stupid. Why did I have to bring up my parents?

He took a step backward and I could finally breathe again. “I won't,” he said. “Come on, it's break time.”

“What?” I looked around, saw Robert and Janelle putting on their aprons. Ah, indeed. They both shot me a smile as they passed by. I wasn't really close to the other employees of the café, but we talked enough that I was sort of friends with them now.

The café buzzed with energy, seeing as it was the peak of the day already. Soft music played in the background as people chattered and walked about.

There was nothing really exciting about London. Everyone was stiff, formal, and a push-over. They didn't really like talking about personal stuff, with exception to Sander because he grew up in America. And it was cold. It was all about low temperature and wet season. It got tiring soon enough.

Before I knew it, I was being pulled into the locker room. I was pushed unto the plastic bench in the middle of the room.

Sander locked the door and stood in front of me. “We have half an hour, so what's your deal?” He crossed his arms and raised a brow.

I leaned back, looking up at him with a teasing smile. My heart was still constricting painfully, but I couldn't show him my vulnerable side. He wasn't Bryan. “Are we going to have a snog-fest here?”