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Authors: Helena Newbury
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weirdly, just the idea of it felt like cheating.
“He would.” And then he looked uncomfortable, as if he’d said too much. We descended into an uneasy silence. Great, now I’ve pissed him off. He hates me.
Aedan
Great, now I’ve pissed her off. She hates me. I hadn’t meant to shut down the conversation. But my family was one thing I couldn’t talk about. I should never have mentioned my brother.
And then it got worse.
A hand slapped down on my shoulder. There’s a certain way that cops do that, to let you know who’s boss. And there was only one cop who’d have the guts to walk up and do it to me.
“Hi, Charlie,” I said tiredly.
He stepped around to the side so that I could see him. He was barely taller than Sylvie—barely taller than me, sitting down. I’d never understood how he got past the academy’s height requirements. Maybe he’d stood on a box the entire time. “How you doing?” he asked, which is cop-speak for are you keeping your nose clean?
“Good,” I said. “Sylvie, Charlie. Charlie, Sylvie.”
Charlie eyed our clothes. “You training again?” His jaw tightened. “Back at The Pit?”
“No. Teaching.” I looked at Sylvie.
“Yeah,” she said, picking up on my look. “Like a personal trainer. Boxercise.”
Charlie stared at us just long enough to let us know that he didn’t buy it for a second. Then he nodded. “Stay out of trouble.” And, with another pat on the shoulder, he walked off.
Sylvie waited until he’d gone. “Who’s that guy?”
“Someone I did a favor for, once.”
“He doesn’t seem all that grateful.”
I winced. “He kind of repaid that debt, already.”
To my relief, the food arrived. A generous steak and two eggs, sunny-side up.
Her eyes bulged. “Are you kidding me? You eat that for lunch?”
“No,” I said seriously. “This is breakfast. We’re catching up.”
“I don’t eat that much meat in a week!” she squeaked.
I furrowed my brow. “What do you eat?”
She shrugged. “Noodles. And a lot of breakfast cereal.”
I sighed. “You’re in training now. We need to build up your body. Real food.”
She eyed her steak. “I can’t afford this much real food. ”
“I’m paying.” And then, because she still looked doubtful, I blurted, “I’ll pay for your meals.”
She stared at me as if I’d offered her a ruby necklace. “Thank you,” she said at last. She looked down at her food as she started to eat, but she kept glancing up at me as if I was the second coming.
Jesus, no one’s ever given her a present before? No one’s ever done anything nice for this girl? What the feck were all those other guys thinking? She should be getting real presents—dresses and jewelry and a feckin’ Mercedes with a bow tied round it on her birthday. And all that romantic stuff—chocolates and flowers and those stupid scented soaps and candles that women like so much. She shouldn’t be getting excited about some free meals.
“I don’t get you,” she said, frowning. When she frowned, she wrinkled her nose like a rabbit and I wanted to pull her out of her seat and snog her so bad. “One minute you’re riding me about how badly I’m doing. The next you’re being nice to me.”
I looked down at my plate. “Just trying to do the right thing,” I mumbled.
I could feel her eyes burning into me. “So, do you have many brothers?” she asked.
“Lots,” I said. I thought of the tattoo on my back, as if it was glowing through my t-shirt.
“Where are they?”
“Around.”
“Around New York?”
“Around America.” I knew I was being cagey so I tried to turn it back to her. “It must be weird, living with your brother.”
She nodded, her mouth full. Given that she’d said she wasn’t hungry, she was wolfing down the steak and eggs. I wondered how long it was since someone had given her a decent meal.
When she eventually swallowed, she said, “He can get a little overprotective, if I bring a guy
“He would.” And then he looked uncomfortable, as if he’d said too much. We descended into an uneasy silence. Great, now I’ve pissed him off. He hates me.
Aedan
Great, now I’ve pissed her off. She hates me. I hadn’t meant to shut down the conversation. But my family was one thing I couldn’t talk about. I should never have mentioned my brother.
And then it got worse.
A hand slapped down on my shoulder. There’s a certain way that cops do that, to let you know who’s boss. And there was only one cop who’d have the guts to walk up and do it to me.
“Hi, Charlie,” I said tiredly.
He stepped around to the side so that I could see him. He was barely taller than Sylvie—barely taller than me, sitting down. I’d never understood how he got past the academy’s height requirements. Maybe he’d stood on a box the entire time. “How you doing?” he asked, which is cop-speak for are you keeping your nose clean?
“Good,” I said. “Sylvie, Charlie. Charlie, Sylvie.”
Charlie eyed our clothes. “You training again?” His jaw tightened. “Back at The Pit?”
“No. Teaching.” I looked at Sylvie.
“Yeah,” she said, picking up on my look. “Like a personal trainer. Boxercise.”
Charlie stared at us just long enough to let us know that he didn’t buy it for a second. Then he nodded. “Stay out of trouble.” And, with another pat on the shoulder, he walked off.
Sylvie waited until he’d gone. “Who’s that guy?”
“Someone I did a favor for, once.”
“He doesn’t seem all that grateful.”
I winced. “He kind of repaid that debt, already.”
To my relief, the food arrived. A generous steak and two eggs, sunny-side up.
Her eyes bulged. “Are you kidding me? You eat that for lunch?”
“No,” I said seriously. “This is breakfast. We’re catching up.”
“I don’t eat that much meat in a week!” she squeaked.
I furrowed my brow. “What do you eat?”
She shrugged. “Noodles. And a lot of breakfast cereal.”
I sighed. “You’re in training now. We need to build up your body. Real food.”
She eyed her steak. “I can’t afford this much real food. ”
“I’m paying.” And then, because she still looked doubtful, I blurted, “I’ll pay for your meals.”
She stared at me as if I’d offered her a ruby necklace. “Thank you,” she said at last. She looked down at her food as she started to eat, but she kept glancing up at me as if I was the second coming.
Jesus, no one’s ever given her a present before? No one’s ever done anything nice for this girl? What the feck were all those other guys thinking? She should be getting real presents—dresses and jewelry and a feckin’ Mercedes with a bow tied round it on her birthday. And all that romantic stuff—chocolates and flowers and those stupid scented soaps and candles that women like so much. She shouldn’t be getting excited about some free meals.
“I don’t get you,” she said, frowning. When she frowned, she wrinkled her nose like a rabbit and I wanted to pull her out of her seat and snog her so bad. “One minute you’re riding me about how badly I’m doing. The next you’re being nice to me.”
I looked down at my plate. “Just trying to do the right thing,” I mumbled.
I could feel her eyes burning into me. “So, do you have many brothers?” she asked.
“Lots,” I said. I thought of the tattoo on my back, as if it was glowing through my t-shirt.
“Where are they?”
“Around.”
“Around New York?”
“Around America.” I knew I was being cagey so I tried to turn it back to her. “It must be weird, living with your brother.”
She nodded, her mouth full. Given that she’d said she wasn’t hungry, she was wolfing down the steak and eggs. I wondered how long it was since someone had given her a decent meal.
When she eventually swallowed, she said, “He can get a little overprotective, if I bring a guy
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