Cora Carmack - Keeping Her

So I let him enjoy my embarrassment. And I enjoyed the way his side was pressed against mine. Fair trade.

Garrick

I WAS STILL a bit bleary-­eyed as we waited through the long line for immigration, then picked up our bags, and passed through customs. Bliss vaulted between exuberance and silence, more of the latter, as we got closer to our final destination.

Outside the airport, I tucked Bliss under my arm, needing to feel her, to feel some sort of control as her panic began to bleed into me. I was halfheartedly trying to flag down a taxi to take us to my parents’ place in Kensington when I heard someone shout, “Taylor! Garrick Taylor! Look over here, you prat!”

Bliss had already stopped and was staring at two idiots down the pavement, yelling and waving their arms. The first idiot had dark skin and a buzzed head that had been covered in dreads the last time I’d seen him. That would be Rowland. And paired with the second idiot, Graham, who looked enough like me to pass for my brother (a scam we’d used more than once when we were kids), they meant trouble.

I passed a hand through my hair and smiled. “Bloody hell.”

What in the world were they doing here?

“Friends of yours?” Bliss asked.

“Very old friends.”

Bliss and I turned around our luggage and barely made it a few meters before Rowland was tackling me.

“Ricky!” he yelled, messing with my hair.

I heard Bliss say, “Ricky?” over my shoulder before I shoved Rowland off. Glaring, I said, “That nickname wasn’t okay in secondary, and it isn’t okay now.”

Graham said, “Oh, come on, brother. At least let him have a little fun. You’ve not visited in ages. Though I can see why.”

I didn’t have to look to know he was staring at Bliss. Not only did Graham and I look alike—­tall, blond hair, blue eyes—­but we had the same taste in women. I had mostly been joking with her earlier about finding another guy, but now it wasn’t so funny. I shook my head at him and pulled her closer to me.

“Bliss, these two gits are my old mates, Rowland and Graham. We came up together. And this is my fiancée, Bliss.”

God, it felt good saying that.

“Her name is Bliss? Or is that your nickname for her because she’s really good in—­”

“Rowland,” I warned.

He shrugged and shot Bliss a cheeky smile. She was grinning at both of them, her cheeks a brilliant red. And as good as it was to see them, I was not even remotely keen on sharing her.

I asked, “What are you lot doing here?”

Rowland said, “We phoned your dad and told him to tell your mum that your flight had been delayed by a few hours.”

“Why would you do that?”

Graham grinned in Bliss’s direction and said, “Because we wanted to meet your girl . . . before your mum tore her to pieces.”

I saw the blood drain from her face, and she went from red to white in seconds. Well, there went the last of her calm.

“Garrick!” Her hand connected with my arm, and then again with my chest.

Throwing a glare at Graham, I caught her hands and pulled her close.

“He’s joking, love. It’s all going to be fine.”

Please let it be fine.

“Or after a few pints with us, it will be, anyway,” Rowland cut in.

“It’s the middle of the day,” I said.

Rowland shrugged. “We’ll make sure there’s some food had somewhere in there.”

Bliss had her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at me. She looked so bloody hot when she was angry that I almost didn’t mind.

I said, “Thank you both for coming. And for managing to piss my future bride off in record time. But it was a long flight. I should probably just get Bliss home.”

When I reached, her hand flitted out of my range and then came back to poke me in the chest. “Oh no you don’t, Mr. Taylor.” I heard Rowland laugh behind me. She continued, “You are not depriving me of the chance to gather some much needed liquid courage or to question your friends.”

Graham whistled. “I like this one.”

That much was uncomfortably clear.

I met her eyes, and she wasn’t backing down. I pressed my lips together into a thin line, but her eyebrows just rose in answer.

“Fine. Okay.” I turned to my old friends and added, “One drink. With food. One hour. That’s it.” They held up innocent hands in surrender, and started leading us down the pavement.

Over his shoulder, Graham said, “Damn, Taylor. Did teaching suck all the fun out of you?”

“Something got sucked while he was teaching.”

I shoved Rowland from behind, and he launched forward several feet, cackling.

“What?” Bliss asked. “What did he say?”

“Nothing. Just being a prick.”

Rowland kept his distance as he led us to the same old Peugeot he’d been driving the last time I’d lived in London nearly eight years ago. It was funny how little some things and some ­people changed.

I’d changed . . . that much was for sure. In turns, I’d been just as elitist and judgmental as my parents or I’d rebelled and battled that with tremendous levels of stupidity and trouble. It was only in the last two years that I’d started to feel like I’d finally found a reasonable middle ground. I could only pray to find something similar today with my parents. I could only pray that this whole trip wouldn’t blow up in my face.

I helped Bliss into the backseat, and then turned to Graham before sliding in after her. He didn’t just look like a brother to me; he’d felt like one for most of my life, too. And when I left this city, I’d left that friendship, too. I’d only just recently reached out to him to reconnect.

I said, “It’s really good to see you, mate. Sorry that I’ve done a botch job of keeping in touch.”

He clapped me on the back and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I get why you stayed away. And things seemed to have worked themselves out just fine.” I peeked into the car, where Bliss was smiling and listening to some no doubt filthy story that Rowland was telling her from the driver’s seat. I smiled. “Yeah, things have worked out perfectly.”

I climbed into the backseat and pulled Bliss over to meet me in the middle. My old mates might have been troublemakers of the highest order, but they did have one thing going for them; Bliss was the most relaxed I’d seen her in the last week.

Maybe it was a good idea to just let loose for a little while. We both needed it.

I brought her head close to mine, pressing my nose into her curls as she laughed at the ridiculous voice Rowland was doing in imitation of his mother. Her warmth, her scent calmed me. And she made me see London in a new light. She made me see it how it was before my parents and all their pressure and manipulation had made me want to leave.

Again and again, Bliss seemed to be my new beginning, the thing to help me let go of the past and move forward.

She rested a hand on my thigh and looked up at me. I must have been tuned out for longer than I realized because she asked, “You okay?”

I laid my hand over hers and said, “Just glad to be home and to have you with me.”

She turned her hand over and laced her fingers with mine, and Rowland made gagging noises in the front seat.

“Oh shut it, Row. You’re just jealous because you haven’t yet managed to hold on to a woman for more than one night.”

“Managed? Managed? I should win an award for that. It’s harder than you think.”

Bliss snuggled into my side and asked, “So how long have you known Garrick?”

Rowland answered, “I’ve only known him since secondary.”

“High school,” I translated for Bliss.

“But Graham and Garrick have been attached at the hip since they were in nappies.”

“Diapers,” I added.

“Hey, she gets the gist of it. No need to translate every bleeding thing I say. I’m speaking English.”

“So what you’re saying,” Bliss began, leaning forward between the two front seats, “is that Graham is the one to go to for the embarrassing stories?”

“Excuse me.” I poked her in the side, and she squirmed away from me.

“Oh come on. Like you don’t know enough embarrassing things about me. You’ve been there for too many of them.”

“Do tell,” Rowland said, his eyebrows waggling at us through the rearview mirror.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” It was her turn to poke me.

“Wait.” Graham turned in his seat to face us. “Are you talking about being all hot for teacher?”

“Garrick!” I had a feeling I was going to be hearing my name in that tone all too often on this trip. “You told them?”

“I told Graham. Since Rowland doesn’t seem too surprised, I’m guessing he’s been filled in.”

Bliss bent and buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why would you be embarrassed?” Rowland asked. “You can’t get much hotter than a schoolgirl fantasy. After Graham told me, I had dreams for a week featuring girls in our old school uniforms.”

Bliss gave a garbled groan and sank even further until her face rested against her knees. I was still learning the intricacies of speaking Bliss, but I was fairly certain that groan meant that she thought she was dying of mortification.

I leveled a stare at him and said, “Thanks a lot, mate.”

Then I ran a hand across the curve of Bliss’s back and said, “There’s no reason to be embarrassed, because we didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t ever want to have to lie about us again.”

Call it an issue. Call it baggage. But I really hated lies. They’re ugly things, festering like wounds, spreading like disease. They’re winner-­less crimes that hurt everybody in the end.