Alexander (CENTURIES series: Book #1)

18

Yup, I knew I should've figured something was way off last night when he received that mysterious call. When Alex had suggested we went shopping the next day, I just knew something was wrong. Alex hated shopping.

"How about that store? It sells white vans."

"So Miles can spend every minute of every day saying 'Damn Sophie'? Nope." I scoffed. I shot Alexander a subtle look when he kept browsing the stores down the street, also watching the people for some reason. He seemed... on edge.

I had of course thought about who could've called him from abroad. I knew he didn't have much family on his mother's side, and the little that he did, they lived in Australia. As for his father, he might've disappeared out of their lives, but the last I heard from Audrey, Alex's mom, he owned a successful architecture firm in Sydney or something, and it was unlikely he even cared about Alex anymore. So the foreign number couldn't be his.

That left us with friends, an accidental very wrong dial, a prank call and/or some chick Alex once knew who was looking to rekindle things.

But every time I tried to ask him about who it had been, he either changed the subject or pretended he didn't hear me. Not his smoothest moves, but it kept him from talking about it, which made me assume whoever he had talked to was someone he indeed knew. If it was just a random wrong call, he would've just told me and we wouldn't be out shopping for everything and nothing.

"How about... dresses? You like dresses," He said, giving me a quick look.

"No, I like tight pants that makes my ass look good, I'm only wearing a dress today because it's 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Alex, what are you doing?" I finally asked. I was getting tired of this bullshit he was running.

"What?" He asked, raising a brow at me. "I'm taking my girl out shopping, I thought you'd be thrilled?" He said, just as we came to a square where a street musician was playing on a rather magnificent piano, set up right by a fountain. "I'm being a good boyfriend."

"No, you're being void. Why won't you talk to me about that phone call?" I tried for the millionth time. "Keeping secrets is not being a good boyfriend."

Alex glanced after the guy playing the piano, again seemingly not paying attention to what I was saying. After a moment of staring, he walked up to him. I sighed and followed him.

"Alex..."

"Hey, mate," Alex said to the street musician, giving him a friendly smile. "Nice tune. Can I give it a go?"

Oh, brilliant. Now we were going to such lengths as disturbing street performers to avoid talking about the phone call. Was he serious?

"You know how to play?" The pianist asked, stopping his version of what I now remembered to be Für Elise by Beethoven.

Alex shrugged. "Some."

I rolled my eyes. He did more that play the piano 'some'. Alex was either cocky as fuck or modest to the point where it was ridiculous. There was no in between.

The pianist moved over on the bench and Alex took a seat, placing his feet on the pedals. He then ran his fingers across the keys, testing them out. "Great sound. How long've you played?"