Page 23 of London Inked Boys: The Complete Trilogy
I put out my hand and slowly turn the handle then push it open.
Movement passes in front of me. I let out a cry, swinging the rolling pin. A hand shoots out of the dark and grabs my wrist.
“What the fuck, Tess?”
I exhale a sigh of relief. “Jesus Christ, Art! I was about to bash your head in with a rolling pin!”
“No, you weren’t. I’d already stopped you. And that’s not exactly a great use of a rolling pin. A knife would have been better.”
My eyes adjust to the gloom and I take in the sight of him standing there. “I wasn’t going to stab someone! Anyway, what the hell are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”
“I just needed to get something.”
“You did? At this time? Couldn’t it have waited until morning? You scared the crap out of me.”
I glance down and spot a rolled up sleeping bag under one arm, a toothbrush in his other hand, his feet bare. Frowning, my mind pieces things together.
“You’re sleeping here tonight?”
He gives a sharp nod. “Yeah, just for tonight.”
“Why?”
“Umm, I lost my keys.”
“But you still had the keys to the shop? Why didn’t you just call me? You know I’d have let you stay with me if you couldn’t get into your place.” I suddenly think of something. Had he gone home only for his wife or girlfriend to kick him out again? Maybe they smelled my perfume on him. “Or was thatdifficultroommate giving you problems again?”
His face grows taut with anger. “Just stop talking for one fucking minute, Tess! I didn’t lose my keys. I’m sleeping here. I don’t have a flat to go to, or a difficult flatmate. This is where I’ve been staying for the past few months.”
I jerk back in surprise. “What? Here, at the shop?”
His gaze casts down. “No, I’ve been staying in the flat.”
“You’ve been living in the apartment? My apartment? But that wasn’t in the contract.”
His jaw tightens. “Yeah, I know that, Tess.”
“So why would you be living here? Don’t you have a place of your own?”
It dawns on me that some of the stuff we cleared out on the day I arrived had actually been his belongings rather than just junk from the shop as I’d thought. I knew the guys had been hanging out here, but this had actually been his home. The memory of tossing the old bed sheets turn my face crimson. No wonder he’d been so put out at me turning up early. He’d thought he had more time to get sorted.
I’m still confused. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Tell some American I didn’t even know that I didn’t have anywhere to live?” He snorts. “Yeah, right.”
“But why don’t you have anywhere to live? You have your own business. Surely you can get somewhere.”
He shrugs, and I hate to see the colour in his face, knowing that just speaking about this is embarrassing him. Art isn’t the type of guy to be self-conscious, and I hate I’ve made him feel that way.
“Why do you think I couldn’t get a place, Tess?”
I shake my head, baffled.
“I lost money on the flat I was in before—there was damage that wasn’t my fault and they kept the final month’s rent and the deposit. I didn’t have any extra cash to find a new deposit—landlords literally want thousands before you can rent in London. Not that you need to worry about that, considering you’re on the other side of the fence.”
My defences go up. “It’s not my fault you didn’t have anywhere to live!”
“No?”
