Page 16 of Witch You Weren't Here

‘No,’ she cut him off quickly. ‘I don’t need you to do it for me.’

He frowned at her. ‘That wasn’t actually what I was going to say.’

‘Oh.’ She folded her arms over her chest. ‘Go on then.’

‘Would you like to go out to get something to eat once you’ve dropped your bag off? It would give us a chance to catch up.’

Catch up? A stab of pain flashed behind her eye. He was acting like they were old friends again. The only thing she was really interested in hearing from him was an apology, and he could have said that the moment he saw her, earlier in the day, or in the bar once Dean had gone, or during that silent taxi ride. But no, it was like he wanted to ignore what he’d done. Well, fine. He could ignore it, but she wasn’t going to make nice while he did.

‘No. I just want to get some sleep.’

He nodded slowly and drummed his fingers over the handle of her wheelie case before tapping in the code for the lockbox and retrieving the keys for her. ‘It’s on the first floor. Number two, on the left.’

She took the keys and ignored the traitorous tumble of disappointment in her chest that he was going out anyway. ‘Half your body weight in pick and mix not satisfy your appetite?’

His mouth lifted at the corner, but he kept his eyes lowered. ‘I guess not.’

‘I’m going to book the Uber to get us to the airport in the morning. But if you get drunk and end up sleeping on a park bench, I’ll have to leave without you,’ she warned him.

‘Goes without saying. I’ll make sure I’m quiet when I come back in.’

She nodded and turned to the door, slotting the first key in the lock. When she turned back to get her case, he was already walking away, his hands burrowed into the pockets of his big ridiculous coat, the tails flapping behind him.

She grabbed the handle of her case and yanked to bump it up the steps, but instead of it weighing the same as a small tractor, it felt like it was empty, and the force she’d put behind it had her sprawling backwards and landing on her butt.

Bloody Harry. He’d gone and put the charm on it anyway. Just like that. A flick of his fingers. He hadn’t even needed to mutter any words out loud. Show-off.

She levered herself up and carried it inside. There was one flight of steep stairs in the hallway, an automatic light flickering on. If her coccyx wasn’t throbbing at that precise moment, she might have felt a tiny bit grateful for his unsolicited sharing of his superior magic – but it did hurt like a bastard, and he could have warned her.

The second key fit into the door on the left like he’d said, and she opened it up into a dark apartment. Other than the hum of refrigerator, it was blessedly quiet and warm. A faint whiff of Harry’s aftershave lingered. The hallway was short, with a little kitchen off to the right and then it opened up into a small lounge with narrow windows and a room off to the side. The street lighting filtered in enough that she could walk through without switching on any lamps until she was in the bedroom.

He’d made the bed before he left in the morning and she stared at it, with its pale blue cover, hating that it was running through her mind about whether he’d slept in pyjamas or just his underwear – or nothing.

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep, slow breath. She didn’t want to keep thinking about Harry – unavoidable as it might seem.

Shrugging her coat off, she booked the Uber and then dialled Ilina’s number.

‘Have you made it home yet?’ she asked when Ilina answered.

‘Not quite. Another fifteen minutes on this train, then I will be a short walk from my very own bed. Bliss. What about you? You don’t sound like you’re in an airport?’

‘I’m not. I had to transfer my flight. I’m flying out in the morning now.’

‘So where are you if you are not at the airport?’

‘I bumped into an old acquaintance from Biddicote. He has a place in New Town and offered me a bed there.’ Which was kind, regardless of his reasoning. Kay hadn’t exactly been pleasant to him – understandably – and yet he was still giving up his bed to her, and taking the sofa bed, which probably wasn’t anywhere near as comfortable. ‘Anyway, how did my boss take the news?’

‘Oh, him.’ Kay could tell Ilina was rolling her eyes from the dryness of her tone. ‘He said you need to fill out a sick form when you get back to the office.’

‘What a dickhead. I barely left forty-five minutes early.’

‘He is, indeed, a dickhead. But I noticed the subject change, which makes me suspicious. Let’s go back to talking about the generous old friend who offered you a bed for the night. Layovers are the perfect hook-up opportunity. Is he hot?’

‘Ilina, I’m exhausted and I just want to go home.’

‘Also noted that you are avoiding the question of his hotness, but fair enough. If Dev Patel himself strode down this train and offered me a one-night stand, I might be inclined to say no.’

Kay laughed. ‘Really? You’d say no to Dev Patel?’

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