Page 15 of A Loser by Christmas
I don’t see why he’s ruling that out or describing what just felt all too real as inauthentic. Before I can ask or answer, a woman calls out.
She’s despairing.
“Was the pasta really so bad that you all had to run away while I wasn’t looking?”
“No, Penny.” Jack does something my subscribers would get a kick out of—he crosses himself, and his eyes too, before apparently outright lying. “There’s nothing wrong with the pasta. Seb and I were just looking out for Calum, and we found him.”
“Then come back inside. Eat, before Patrick finishes all your dinners.”
“Please, God,” Jack whispers, but he follows her instruction, heading back to the restaurant. “Come on, Seb.”
Calum is the only one who turns back.
“Eat with us. I’ll explain why a great big gay reveal can’t be an option, because trust me, it wouldn’t be.”
I’ve never wanted more to say yes.
“I can’t.”
That’s gutting to admit while my lips still tingle and my dick is at a hopeful half-mast. “Gotta get back before Dad realises I’m not giving his VIP test drives.” I have to clamp down on a cackle, tickled by hysteria at the thought of Dad discovering who is doing my work for me. “Go eat.”
“I wish you’d say yes.” He lifts a hand to his lips like he feels the same tingling. “To helping me.”
I make a Christmas wish of my own. “Then try harder to convince me.”
Yes, I want him to agree to buy a boat by midnight, but curiosity means I can’t help adding, “Because you’re leaving something out. Something big.”
I can feel it.
He must be.
Who walks away from a contract that comes with fame, fortune, and a deluxe lifestyle?
“You don’t have to like me for what I did to Jack, or believe that it wasn’t what I ever intended, but you do need to be honest.” I back off. “If you’re ever ready to do that, come find me. I’ll listen.”
I leave him and Kensington behind to slice my way back along the Thames, then I dock a boat that I once watched Dad hand paint with lettering that tonight’s moon turns from gold to silver.
Trust Juno to Speed to the Rescue.
I can’t help thinking that I’ve done the opposite by walking away from Calum Trelawney.
He’s sinking for some reason. He must be.
For now, I focus on getting back to switch clothes with my stand-in just in time for the final hours of this gala. I’m also back just in time to saynon merciagain to Lito Dixon.
“Still not taking no for an answer, Lito? How shocking.” I say that over my shoulder once my last test drive is over. “Why not have a go at breaking that cycle?”
“There’s no cycle to break.” Lito isn’t done wheedling. “Listen, gorgeous. The gala fireworks show is starting.” A bright flare in the sky confirms it. “Let me shoot you underneath them with Tower Bridge in the background. I’ll make you look extra pretty.” He follows me around the marina to its darkest corner, so persistent that I need to shout, “I said, no,” before he’ll give up.
I boardla Sylvieall alone, thank fuck.
“Say yes to me.”
That isn’t Lito speaking.
Another firework fills the night sky with glitter. And with Calum.
He jumps aboard, and more than my old boat lurches—he’s so completely my type. Him prowling towards me is scary, but apparently my penis likes that. It also likes Calum’s low-pitched rumble.
