Page 15 of Replay
“I don’t know.” Stepping up to the keypad, I press the emergency call button.
“Oiy, can I help you?” A voice crackles through the small speaker.
“Yes, our lift just stopped, and the emergency light came on,” I reply crisply.
“Yes, we can see that. Our repairman will head up right now to see what all the fuss is about.”
“Fuck,” Tilly mutters and then steps forward. “Can we get out and walk down?”
“You want to walk down fifty floors in that?” I point at her dress and shoes, my irritation ratcheting up to a whole new level as I realise she would rather hoof it down a million flights of stairs than be stuck in this lift with me.
“You’re stuck between two floors, Miss, so that won’t be possible. No worries, though. We’ll do our very best to get you out as soon as possible.”
“Oh my God,” Tilly groans when the speaker shuts off. Turning, she runs her hands through her long hair. “This is awful.”
“Calm down,” I grumble, not able to control the disdain in my voice as I watch her shift nervously in the small space. “I won’t be bothering you.”
“Would you just stop,” she snaps back at me, her expression matching the fiery red emergency light perfectly. “Not everything is about you.”
“You made that abundantly clear tonight. Cheers for that.” I lean against the side of the lift and cross my arms over my chest.
“If we’re going to be stuck in this lift together, the least you could do is stop being an arsehole,” she seethes, glaring at me.
“I’m being the arsehole?” I bark back, pointing at my chest.
“Yes. I’m sorry for wounding your precious pride tonight but get the hell over it.” She continues to run a hand through her hair nervously as she eyes me with disgust.
“My pride?” I push myself off the wall, my jaw clenched with frustration. “This has nothing to do with my pride.”
“Then what the hell is your problem?”
“Oh, I’m so glad you asked, Tilly.” I walk up so we’re only a foot apart, my body bowing over hers as I prepare to unload every fucking thought that ran through my mind during that entire bloody auction. “See, I have this girl from my past, gorgeous girl…fiery and fun and full of fucking life from what I remember. We had some really good times together. Sure, they were limited to some basic rules, but all good. Then tonight, I run into her after five years, and she brushes me off like I’m diseased. And that’s confusing to me, because my last interactions with her were me being rather generous I thought…some might even say a gentleman.” I throw my hands in the air wildly, waving them around as I try to make my point with a dramatic flair I can only hope will get through her thick skull. “As it turns out, she just thought I was nothing more than a manwhore with no morals and was just in it for some saviour bullshit that, frankly, hadn’t even entered my mind back then. So she pushed me away like I was a sleazy arsehole, and I guess you could say it’s been eating away at me for half a decade or so. And it turns out that five years later, nothing’s changed! She still looks at me like I’m scum, so I guess you could say it’ll keep eating at me for the foreseeable future. So no, it’s not pride. It’s genuine fucking confusion.” I’m left winded after letting every single thought I’ve had all night out as I stare at the only woman who has haunted my thoughts for the past five years. Why the fuck do I care so damn much?
“Stop,” she barks, her nose twitching with agitation.
“You have loads of nerve coming back here after five years and treating me as no more than a casual fuck after I offered—”
“Don’t,” she cuts me off. “Don’t bring it up. The past is the past, and I don’t want to rehash it.” She starts pacing in the lift. Wringing her hands together nervously, she looks like a caged animal. “You don’t know everything. I’m different. I’ve changed.”
“So you say,” I growl back, hating the fact my eyes linger on her body as she moves back and forth. Why does she have to look so damn beautiful? “I see the same wild girl you’ve always been. Impulsive, opinionated, no regard for other people’s feelings…”
She turns and hits me with wide, enraged eyes. “Don’t act like you know me. You don’t know anything!”
“Well then, please do enlighten me.” I cross my arms and wait for a revelation that will make sense of that moment we shared earlier when we went from two people staring at each other with carnal, fucking attraction to her metaphorically tossing a glass of wine in my face.
“I’m sober, you fucking eejit.” She pins me with a menacing glower. “For some time now. I haven’t had a proper drink since well…since London.”
I blink rapidly, completely pummeled by that very unexpected response. “But…at the bar tonight.”
“Anthonyand I had a chat when I first arrived that I’d like to get alcohol-free drinks all night that looked like cocktails because telling people I’m sober isn’t exactly a fun party trick.”
My mind reels with this new information. “I had no idea.”
“It’s not something I broadcast.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “But it was necessary after I moved out of London.”
“I see,” I reply dumbly because I’m not sure what else to say.
“That lifestyle I was living here all those years ago was not good. I was out of control, and you were right there to witness me at my worst.”
