Page 109 of Kissing Games
Shelley shook her head. ‘Yes, darling, your boobs could awaken the dead. Now, hold still. Don’t make me get my scissors out.’
An hour later,Sam had been surgically removed from Lorraine without lasting damage and was in a taxi heading into central London. The driver was a regular for the production and Sam was grateful. She didn’t have to answer endless questions about Bethany, the character she played on the long-running soap, or deflect questions about future storylines. Kicking off her six-inch heels, she put in her ear buds and scrolled through the video library on her phone. Three months ago her best friend, Zoe, had moved from London to the wilds of Scotland. Sam missed her terribly and had hoped she would come back. However, once Zoe had fallen in love with Rory, the Earl of Kinloch, it was clear her heart, and soul, were now in the Highlands.
Zoe had sent her a video of Jamie, her childhood friend from Kinloch, playing guitar and singing a love song he’d written. Sam refused to mark the videos, or any of the pictures of Jamie she’d saved, as favourites. That would be an admission of interest. There was no way she was interested in someone three years younger than her, who still lived with his mum, hundreds of miles away in the arse end of nowhere.
It was unfortunate, however, that Jamie happened to possess a certain level of physical attractiveness. He had deep brown eyes, framed by long dark lashes, thick dark brown hair that looked as if it had just been ruffled out of place by an affectionate aunt, and a shy smile that pierced through the phone screen straight to her heart. As he hunched over his guitar, she could tell he was tall. She stared at his thick, corded forearms, his long fingers plucking at the strings. His big, gentle,cleverhands. Heat rose in her cheeks.Forget about his hands!
She’d watched the video hundreds of times, but each time her viewing followed the same script: stare at him as he chatted to Zoe and imagine he was talking to her. Look at his fingers as he started to play. Feel too hot. Close her eyes. Jump as he started to sing. Feel unwarranted emotions swirling inside her. Open her eyes and keep staring. Sing along with him in her mind.
‘That’s nice, love, what is it?’
She met the cab driver’s gaze in the rear-view mirror with a start and fumbled to shut off her phone. ‘What?’
‘That song you were singing.’
She sucked in a breath. It was like he’d caught her watching porn. ‘It’s nothing.’ This was ridiculous. Fuck, she’d be less embarrassed if ithadbeen porn. ‘Just a friend of a friend messing about.’
‘Well, it gave me goosebumps.’ He raised a tattooed arm from the steering wheel. ‘See? And you’ve got a lovely voice, too. Beautiful.’
Sam huffed out a laugh as she looked out the window, then checked her watch. She was early. ‘Actually, Stan, can you drop me here?’
‘No problem, darling.’ He signalled and pulled over. Sam rammed her feet back into her heels and manoeuvred with practiced grace out of the car.
‘Thanks, Stan, see you soon.’ He gave her a wave over his shoulder as he drove away.
Sam gazedat the building in front of her; the huge, red-brick Victorian facade, the sign readingThe Royal Marsden Hospital. Standing at the bottom of the stone steps leading up to the main doors, she felt small and inadequate. A familiar knot of tension coiled tighter in her stomach. She deliberately let out a long, slow breath, flexed her fingers out of their tight fists and pulled out her phone. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d reached out to her oldest sister or spoken to her outside of family get-togethers. The call connected and she heard hasty feet squeaking along a hospital floor.
‘Esther Adamson.’
‘It’s me, Sam.’
She could hear her sister speaking hurriedly to other people in the background, then her attention was back. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah, yeah, I had a minor head wound earlier from some cheap earrings, but—’
‘Head wound? You’ve been checked over? Vision okay? Slurred speech? What happened?’
‘Shit, no, I’m fine. I just got my hair caught in Loz’s earring, that’s all.’
‘Jesus, Sam.’ Her sister let out a loud breath. ‘Don’t do that to me.’
Fuck.
‘So, you’re okay?’
‘Yep, all A-okay,’ Sam replied brightly, squatting down on the step and resting her forehead on her free hand. She chewed her bottom lip as she listened to her sister talking to others, the noises of feet running and doors slamming.
‘Look,’ Esther continued, ‘I was meant to be finishing a twelve-hour shift, but there’s been a serious RTA so I’m going back into surgery. Can I call you later? Where are you?’
‘I’m still on set. You know, busy busy.’ Sam rolled her eyes at herself. ‘Sure, call me—’ The noises from her sister’s end of the line stopped. Sam looked at her phone, then dropped it into her bag.Way to go, Smulan...
‘Oy, oy, Bethany!’
Sam stood, the smile already fixed back on her face. She gave a salute to two men ambling past carrying takeout coffees.
‘Fancy a quickie?’
Her smile froze. ‘Not today, gentlemen, it’s my day off.’ She walked briskly in the opposite direction, her arm raised to hail a taxi. Just because her character put out to half the street didn’t mean she did.
