Page 9 of Kissing Games
‘What was his job?’
Charlie cleared his throat. ‘He was a doctor.’ His hand moved to his shoulder without thinking, then he remembered and dropped it away.
‘Did he stitch your shoulder after you hurt it?’ she asked softly.
He stared at her.How the fuck?
She smiled, but with understanding, not victory. ‘I told you I have a skill. But you’re also quite easy to read.’
Charlie raised an eyebrow. If she could only read his mind now.
She blushed and looked down. ‘You’ve finished.’
Charlie nodded and handed her bag back. He didn’t want the conversation to end. He needed to see her again. He put his sewing kit away as she put her belongings back in her rucksack. How could he ask for her number?Fuck!He was supposed to be a player but it had been ten years since he’d been single. He didn’t have a clue.
He swallowed. ‘I wondered, could I please get your—’
Something changed in her expression. ‘Yes, of course. Do you have a pen?’
Fuck me, that was easy!‘Er, yes, somewhere I think.’ Charlie thrust his hands into his bag, scrabbling around.Where the fuck was it?‘You could put it into my phone?’ he suggested, giving up the search and pulling his phone out of his pocket.
‘Your phone?’ She was holding a black Sharpie and frowning.
‘Yeah.’ He unlocked it and handed it over. She shrugged, then scrawled something on the back. She handed it back to him and got up.
‘Thank you for fixing my bag. I have to go now.’
Charlie stood, his bag sliding off his knees to the floor with a thump. He looked at the phone in confusion. ‘What’s this?’
‘My autograph.’
‘What? Why?’
‘You wanted my autograph,’ she replied, beginning to back away.
‘No, I didn’t. Why would I want that? I wanted your number.’
He watched her eyes widen. ‘Oh no. That’s not going to happen.’
‘Do you have a boyfriend?’
She frowned. ‘I don’t hand my number out to fans.’
‘Fans?’
‘You’re claiming you don’t know who I am?’ she asked, lifting her chin.
‘I’ve only just met you. I don’t have a clue who you are. I thought you were a student.’
‘Student?’ Her arms crossed.
‘Yeah. Old clothes, knackered rucksack, phone with a cracked screen, cheap watch …’ he trailed off.Oh fuck.
‘Have you been stalking me?’ she squeaked. ‘Did you rip my bag?’
‘No, no, god no. I just notice things. I swear I don’t know who you are,’ he babbled. ‘You say you know if someone is lying? Read me now. Am I lying to you?’
She looked at him and he saw confusion cloud her face. ‘Do not follow me.’ She strode into the first-class lounge, flashing her boarding pass and was ushered out of sight.
