Page 37 of Handle with Care
“It’s a plan.”
And at last, we’re on our way beneath sunny skies.
The drive south is quiet, with the hum of the tires on the road and the whizzing traffic on the motorway. Will closes his eyes for much of it, which is either a testament to his secret faith in my driving, or he’s feeling terrible again. Or still.
I practice my best, smoothest driving. There’re no sudden stops or lurches or anything like that. Which is easy enough in this Land Rover on pavement, gliding along.
Outside of Cambridge, Will texts his brother again, who responded to his earlier text that he could come meet us. I’m intrigued to meet a member of Will’s family, even if it’s only to hand over the keys—and Will, like he’s the baton relayed in some sort of marathon.
Cambridge itself is as busy as Will promised. I navigate the streets to the station, which looks new or recently updated or something, and pull into a parking stall. People stream in and out of the station from all directions. I won’t admit it to Will, but it’s a relief to park.
I glance over at Will. He gives me a half smile back. “Sorry to be such a pain.”
“Believe me, you’re not. I wish I could do something else to help.”
“You did loads. And you didn’t leave me in the north.”
I smile at that. “Tempting, but no. But now you have to add me to your Christmas list, that’s all. And I expect very nice gifts.”
“What, did Santa kick you off his?”
I blink and laugh at the callout. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Will’s smile broadens, and he shuts his eyes again. It’s a fine moment to study him. A+ content.
Keep it professional, Dylan. He’s not feeling well, besides.
Tightening my grip on the leather steering wheel, I focus ahead. Good thing, too, because a blond man walks up to us with purpose about then. Clearly a relative of Will’s, because he’s alsocriminally attractive, and there’s a strong resemblance between them. The man smiles at me, and I lower the window.
“Hi.” I take off my sunglasses.
“Hi, Gray,” says Will, peering over.
“Hi. You must be the Dylan I keep hearing about. I’m Gray. Grahame Martin-Greene.” He gives a charming smile that’s an echo of Will’s. It takes a moment to register that Will’s been talking to his family about me. I shiver. He peers at Will. “I’ve seen you in better form, old bean.”
Will grunts acknowledgment.
“Thanks for driving him here,” Gray says to me. “And great job convincing him to let up the keys to his precious vehicle.” He chuckles.
“Not a problem. Guess I talked a bit of sense into him.” I smile over at Will.
“Only this once,” Will vows. “The driving, not the sense, I mean.”
“You’re usually full of sense. At least 80 percent of the time. Which is a good hit rate. Better than me.” I hesitate for a moment, rewarded by a flicker of a smile on Will’s lips. It’s time for me to go, yet I don’t really want to, if I’m honest. “See you Monday?”
“Yes, sounds good. Monday.”
We exchange polite, professional nods. I mean, I don’t know what the etiquette is for goodbyes when someone’s having a migraine or after they’ve made out in bed together.
Fuck, that’s not a helpful thought right now. At last, I slide out of the Land Rover, shake hands with Gray like we’re completing some kind of business transaction, and watch him get in and adjust the rearview and seat for his longer legs and height.
“’Kay. See you,” I say and reluctantly walk away to the station, left with a jumble of thoughts and feelings. It’s notexactly convenient when I’m meant to meet my date later tonight.
Chapter Fifteen
By the time I arrive at work on Monday, I’m already wired on two coffees, and my mind is working overtime at the idea of seeing Will again after our very unexpected weekend. Or twenty-four hours. Some of the strangest and most memorable twenty-four hours of my young life. Meanwhile, my postponed date was nothing but overly polite conversation over expensive cocktails in some chic bar in the West End and ended early because I couldn’t stop thinking about Will.
Could we actually pretend that everything is fine? What if Nancy or someone at the museum finds out about what happened? But that would never happen because my lips are sealed on the matter as promised, and Will has as much to lose as I do. Besides, I tell myself sternly, no messing around with the enemy. Isn’t that something that Hollywood teaches everyone in their blockbuster films?
