So maybe your life is in shambles and you run away to London to get your head straight. Sure, you don't really have a plan but the Universe does, and before you know it, some kid from Kingston has completely turned your world upside and your body i...
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"One more trip," Tom said, dumping another armful of goodies onto the floor. You were surrounded by bags and boxes of all shapes and sizes. You might have overdid it a bit, but you both kind of got swept up in playing house routine. Like, Tom insisted on buying another kettle.
"I have a kettle," you said.
"Yeah, but it's not OUR kettle," he explained.
Now you had two kettles and an array of other household items piling up at your feet.
Tom kicked the door open and dropped the last load off and stood there, hands on hips, taking it all in.
"Where are we going to put all of this?" he laughed, running a hand through his hair.
"I think we both have a shopping problem, which is not good because neither of us is going to reel the other in," you shook your head, chuckling.
Your eye caught something in one of the bags.
"Thomas..." you bent over pulling it out - a set of golf tea towels. You raised an eyebrow at him, scoldingly.
He shrugged and flashed a gorgeous smile that he knew (and so did you) would let him get away with anything he damn well pleased.
"Fine, you can have your stupid golf towels," You stuck your tongue out at him. He did the same back at you.
Just then, your phone chimed with a text.
HARRISON: Everything is set for Tom's party this weekend. How are you going to play it?
You looked over at Tom. He was cross-legged on the floor, opening a box of kitchen knives. You slid behind the counter and discreetly texted back.
YOU: I was thinking of telling him we need to get a bottle of wine to bring to the "family dinner" and then taking him to the restaurant to purchase said wine. It's an Italian joint right? I think that'll work. HARRISON: That's brilliant! Text me when you're 5 minutes away and I'll get everybody situated. YOU: Sounds good. See you Saturday 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕 HARRISON: 🙄
"Whoaaaa," Tom said with wonder, holding up a giant cleaver. You quickly put your phone in your pocket and walked over to see.
"Now THAT'S a knife," he said in an Australian accent.
"Aww, look at you making an 80's movie reference. I'm so proud," you placed both of your hands over you heart. Then your phone started buzzing with a call.
"It's my mom," you said looking at him, wincing.
"Take it," Tom shrugged.
"Hey, Ma," you said, putting on your best smile after accepting the Skype call.
"Y/N! How are you," she asked. You spun around so Tom was in frame. He kind of gave a wave.
"Who's that?" she asked.
You looked behind you then smiled, "That's my boyfriend. Isn't he adorable?"
Tom started shaking his head, ears flushing.
"Y/N...," he said.
"What's up, Ma?" you asked, taking a seat next to Tom on the floor. You felt like rubbing it in her face. Like, look at me, Ma! I'm so fucking happy! Try to take that away from me.
"I was just checking in. What's his name?" she asked, eyes only on Tom. Who can blame her?
"He can hear you, Ma," you smirked. Of course you never mentioned him before. Mother was a big Jason fan. She thought he was just so hard working and came from good stock. It was no use trying to make her understand what a douche he was. You learned after that it best to keep your relationships to yourself.
"What is your name, young man?" she asked loudly.
You smacked Tom on the arm, "She's talking to you," you hissed.
He gave a winning smile, turning towards your phone.
"My name is Tom, Ma'am, and it's such a pleasure to meet you. Y/N has told me a lot about you."
Liar, you thought. The only thing you ever mentioned was that she was an overbearing guilt monger who never thought you lived up to your own potential.
"How old are you?" her eyes narrowed.
"Now, now, enough of the chit-chat, Ma. Tom and I are in the middle of moving him into live with me." You smiled sweetly, but underneath you delighted in that fact that you living with some strange man would just send her through the roof.
"Oh?!" She looked at you, then Tom. He gave a little wave. Bless him, he was trying to behave.
"Busy, busy, Ma. Love you!" You waved too then hit end.
"Jesus!" you exclaimed falling back onto the floor like you'd been shot.
"She's a piece of work," Tom said with a grimace. I see where you get it from."
"Oh fuck you!," you yelled and threw a ball of tissue paper at him.
"Don't fuck with me, Y/N, I have a box of knives here."
You leaned up on your elbows and tilted your head at him, playfully,
"What a big knife you have, Mister," you said, sounding like you stepped out of some Tennessee Williams play.
"The bigger the knife, the deeper the slice, darling," he said, matching the southern accent you put on. He was so good at that.
"Why ah do declare, you are most terrifying man ah have ever met!" you fanned yourself with one hand and batted your eyelashes at him. He shook his head, smiling and leaned over top of you, his eyes shining with mischief.
"Don't he frightened, little lady, my blade is only meant for those who deserve it," he said with a slow drawl.
You gripped his shirt and pulled him closer.
"Oh I deserve it, Tiger," you replied, your voice low and sultry, "Show me what you've got."
