Belonging - House of Goths 2

Chapter 3

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♡༻ One Week Later ༺♡

That had been harder than Crispin imagined. Granted it was a stupid, selfish thing to do. He should never have tried to sneak away without saying a proper goodbye. He couldn't fight back the tiny smile, though, at the thought of Becky's reaction. She had caught him in the driveway as he was loading his suitcase into the car. She had literally grabbed onto him and had refused to let him go until he had sufficiently reassured her of his return. Even then, she wasn't quite convinced. Such a little dormouse, he loved the silly little twit. But then that was the whole point of him needing to get away from her. From her and his other housemates.

Regardless of their constant reassurances to the contrary, they would eventually move on. He had no interest in being the fifth wheel. Besides, he simply needed to step away for a while. Even if just to prove to himself that he could be alone and survive it. Yet no matter how much he tried to explain it to Becky, she couldn't accept his viewpoint. She could not understand that sometimes, one must leave to find oneself.

Grasping onto the steering wheel, he focussed his attention on the road. It was still rather dark, only five in the morning and it was raining heavily. At least, it wasn't snowing. That would make the three-hour drive to the airport even worse.

As he drove he thought back to the day at the cafe with Gwen. He was glad to have come across her itinerary. What a godsend, that was. Before meeting up with her, he'd had no idea where to go. England. What a splendid idea. Especially for a Goth like him. Why hadn't he thought of that?

He had even taken Gwen's advice and had her friend, Stacy, the travel agent book it all up for him. The only thing he had to worry about was getting to the airport on time and catching the early morning plane to Heathrow. He hadn't even bothered to study the details of the trip. He was sure he would figure it all out as he went. Besides, he had an eight-hour flight to read over the specifics of Gwen's well-laid plans. If he found anything that didn't interest him, he would simply skip it and spend the afternoon in a pub somewhere wallowing in self-pity.

He shook his head at the idea of Gwen going with him. What had she been thinking? They knew nothing of each other yet she had seemed so eager to come along. What an odd girl. On the one hand, she came across as nervous and tightly wound. On the other, she was ready to throw caution to the wind to go on a trip with a total stranger. She didn't trust herself enough to go alone, yet she trusted him to be her travel buddy? It didn't make any sense.

As cute as she was, her company at this moment was the last thing he needed. The whole point of this trip was to get away by himself, not play escort to a little mundane woman, as sexy as she was in her turtleneck sweater. Crispin gave his head a quick shake. He must be losing it for sure. Another reason to get out of town as quickly as possible. As it was, he had fought the urge to stop in and see her at the shop countless times this past week.

Of course, he would be lying if he said he hadn't found her proposal flattering. Most people steered clear of him, especially those who didn't know him. Given his apparent Gothness, most people tended to avoid him like the plague. As physically attractive as he was, he also realized his challenging personality often put off those who might venture close enough to realize he wasn't the nicest guy in the world. That was just fine as far as he was concerned. He wasn't looking to make friends.

Now, if it was a quick fuck she was after, he might have made an exception. Plenty of thrill seeking mundanes had come around and he had been all too accommodating in the past. But he could tell Gwen wasn't that type, as much as he wanted her to be. In fact, he would love nothing more than a shot at her. Poor girl wouldn't know what hit her. She obviously didn't know who she was dealing with. With that lusty thought in his brain, Crispin turned up the radio and stepped on the gas. The sooner he left town, the better.