“Take me back to my flat?” Why did my voice go up at the end like that? I wasn’t nervous, or anxious. Not at all.
Ian’s lips quirked in an amused smile. “Yeah, you know…get you back safe and all that. Tuck you in, maybe.”
“Tuck me in.” I sighed. “Really?”
Ian laughed, and his open amusement and humor had me grinning too. “I think you’re overthinking, Nina. You want blunt? I’m not sure what I want, or what this is. I just met you. I’ve enjoyed talking to you. I’m looking forward to seeing Bill and the rest, as I haven’t seen them in an age, and I’m looking forward to spending time with you that’s not confined to the seats of an airplane. Beyond that? I’m really not sure.”
I looked away, out the window, watching in rapt wonder as we passed around the Marble Arch, shooting Ian a smile as the iconic landmark slid from view. “Good enough for me,” I told him.
And that was true.
Mostly.
CHAPTER 3
The pub was everything I’d pictured a swank London pub to be: low ceilings, aged and faded wood, high stools and a tall table near the window, a large open area in front of the bar, and some low couches along one wall with coffee tables and easy chairs. Ian’s friends had already commandeered an entire section of seating along one wall, nearly a dozen people sprawled on the couches and chairs, a few standing with pints in hand, laughing and looking glamorously affable. It looked like a movie set. Everyone was good-looking, with neatly coiffed hair and subtle makeup, men with stubbled beards and their shirt sleeves pushed up to just beneath their elbows. There were six men and six women, all clearly paired off, judging by the way they were all orbiting each other, exchanging idle touches, glances, sitting on laps and teasing and slapping shoulders and looking like they could be an alternate cast for Friends.
And they were all ridiculously happy to see Ian. As soon as he entered the pub, they stood and cheered, with two guys in particular splitting away from the crowd to approach Ian, arms wide, shouting his name, wrapping him up in a three-way man-hug that should have been awkward and weird but was, instead, totally endearing.
Meanwhile, I stood behind him, watching this display of manly friendship, unsure if my being here was the best idea after all. I mean, I barely knew Ian. ‘Barely’, in fact, might even have been a bit of an understatement. And these people were all obviously very close with each other, probably friends since university days if not earlier, years of camaraderie binding them together.
And then there was me.
Oh boy.
I thought about just slipping back out and finding a taxi to take me back to the flat. Or maybe to another bar where I could hole up in a corner and drink. I even took a backward step. Ian, however, wasn’t letting me go that easily.
He took my hand and pulled me forward. “Nina! You need meet everyone. This is Bill, and Mark, and that’s Taylor over there with the green shirt, and beside him is Allie.” He pointed out everyone in turn and told me their names. I just smiled and nodded and waited until he was finished. “Everyone, this is Nina. We met on the flight over.”
I waved. “Hi, everyone. I’m gonna be honest, I’m not going to remember anyone’s names until I actually talk to you, so…yeah.” There was polite and understanding laughter at this pronouncement.
I was greeted effusively by Ian’s friends, my hand was shaken by several of the guys; I was hugged by a few of the girls, and given friendly nods by the rest.
Ian came over to me. “Drink?”
“A beer would be good,” I said. “Whatever you’re drinking.”
He brought me a pint of Fuller’s and I let him pull me with him into the center of the social maelstrom. He held court, answering questions about America and what he was doing and where he’d been, and somehow when his pint ran low another was brought to him, and mine was replaced as well. I listened to him, listening to him talk, watching him with his friends. Observing someone interact with their closest group of friends is probably the best way to see what that person is really like. Ian was totally at ease, open and willing to answer just about any question thrown at him, only shutting down the topic of his ex-girlfriend. He never let me feel ignored, which was nice. He always included me in the conversation, and eventually the discussion moved away from Ian to other, more general topics. There were political arguments, which I listened to raptly, and there was a very lively debate between Ian and Bill about some kind of computer programming intricacy that I think only the two of them totally understood.
Four pints in, and I was tipsy. I’d been trying to go slow and pace myself, but it was tough. Ian and his friends were all drinking pretty hard, and the temptation to match them drink for drink was strong. But I couldn’t keep up and I knew it. I had never been a heavy drinker. Eventually, I had to break the seal, so I made my way to the restroom. When I emerged from the stall to wash my hands, one of the girls from the group was there in front of the mirror, re-touching her makeup. She saw me, grinned, and put away her makeup, turning to me.
“So, Nina, right?” Her grin was…salacious. Gossipy. She wanted to know the deal between Ian and me, I’d bet money on it. “I’m Heidi.”
“Hi, Heidi. Nice to meet you.” I dried my hands and tried to edge toward the door.
Heidi blocked me, subtly but effectively. She was tall, pretty, and thin, with blonde hair braided tight against her head. “So. You and Ian. Spill.” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and leaned forward, eager and intent, as if we were best friends who routinely spilled the secrets of our love lives to each other.
I held back a frown. “Well…Heidi. There’s not much to spill. We sat next to each other on the flight over from Detroit.”
“I know, but are you guys…like…going to hook up?”
Who asks that of someone they met literally five seconds ago? I did frown, then. “I’m not sure how to answer that, or even if I should.”
Heidi laughed, as if I’d said something hysterical. “Oh, darling. You’re sweet to be so tactful. All of us girls in the group are secretly in love with Ian. He’s amazing. Him being gone for the last year and a half has been absolute torture, you don’t even know.”
“I was under the impression that you girls were all with the other guys?”
Heidi shrugged. “Well, sort of, I guess. I mean, yeah, I’m with Mark, but…Ian is Ian. And he brought you here, so that has to mean something.”
“He just brought me because I don’t really know anyone in London,” I explained.
Heidi shook her head. “Lovie, that’s not how Ian is. I mean, he’s a nice guy, a genuinely nice guy. But Bill, Mark, and Ian? They’re like family. They’ve all been best mates for years. This isn’t the kind of group you just bring a new girl into, you know. First you’ve got to make sure she’ll fit in.”
This conversation was making me distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m not sure what to say, quite honestly.”
“Just say yes,” Heidi said, giggling.
“Say yes? To what?”
Heidi wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “To whatever he says.” She leaned forward until our faces were almost touching. “From what I’ve heard of Ian, it’ll be worth your while.”
I blushed hard. “I’m not sure—”
“You’re blushing. God, that’s so cute. Ian is going to rock your world, darling.”
“How do you know—” I hated how insecure and innocent I sounded. I was neither, but, for some reason, everything to do with Ian made me feel that way.
Heidi waved me off. “Not like that. None of us here have been with Ian. We’re not a trade-partners type of group. Although—” her gaze went thoughtful and she tapped her chin with a manicured fingernail, “I do think Taylor and Inez hooked up a while ago, before Inez started dating Louis, and of course Taylor is with Breanna now. I mean, I don’t know they hooked up, but I just have a feeling, you know? They’re always a little awkward around each other. Anyway. Before Ian took off for the States to be with that Americ
an girl, what’s her name…Jamie? She broke his heart, the bitch, but he’d never let on to any of us…anyway, before he met her, he had a couple girls he dated here in London, and I got rather close to one of them. Lisa, her name was. Sweet girl, but a little thick.” She paused for breath, and I wondered how much longer this story was going to go on, and how much she’d had to drink that she’d share all this with a stranger. “Not really worthy of Ian, I have to say. Not…on the same level, do you know what I mean? Like I said, sweet, and really very pretty. By which I mean she had these huge knockers, but I’m pretty sure they were fake, which I think is silly. I mean, look at me, I’ve got itty bitty titties, and I’m okay with it, right? Why go and buy bigger boobs? Everyone knows when you’ve got fake ones, right? But she, Lisa, I mean, she told me a bit about Ian, just before he broke up with her. She said he was just…fantastic, d’you know what I mean? She got a little dreamy-eyed just talking about what he could do with his cock.”
Heidi finally broke off to take a breath, so I jumped in. “Heidi, I’m sorry to interrupt. I don’t know what’s going on with Ian. We’re just friends, for now. And your boobs aren’t that small.” I gamely ignored the sudden and very insistent thoughts about Ian’s cock.
She grinned at me. “You’re sweet. But they really are. Barely a B-cup, but it’s fine. Guys like big boobs, I know that, but if you rock what you got, they’ll still like what you’ve got even if it’s not much.” She eyed my bust. “Not that you have that problem.”
What a strange conversation. Should I be insulted by her open assessment of my bra size? Or take it as a compliment that I had big boobs? “Thanks?” I said. “Anyway, I’m gonna just get back out there now…”
Heidi wrapped her hand around my arm. “Ian’s into you, Nina. I know him well enough to know that.”
“I—I’ll keep that in mind,” I told her.
“You do that.” She preceded me out of the bathroom, and headed back to re-join the group.
It was kind of nice to have outside confirmation of what I’d suspected. But it didn’t answer the question about what, if anything, I should do about it. I walked with Heidi back to join the group, and as soon as we rounded the corner I felt Ian’s eyes on me. He was sitting on one of couches, Bill on one side, a girl I hadn’t really met on the other.
As I approached, Ian nudged his shoulder against the girl’s. “Shove over, would you, Inez?”
The girl named Inez slid over far enough for me to take her place, and gave me a pleasant smile.
“Looks as if you got the Heidi ambush,” Ian said.
I snorted. “Yeah.”
“What’d she want to know?”
“If you and I are going to hook up,” I said, trying to sound as casual as possible.
I felt his gaze on me, but didn’t turn to meet it.
“And what’d you tell her?”
“That I wasn’t sure how to answer that question, or if I even should.”
“And?”
“And…I told her we were just friends.” I did look at Ian, then.
He was frowning. “Just friends?” He placed the tip of his index finger on my knee. “Just friends? I’m not sure I like that answer.” He drew his fingernail slowly up the center of my leg, inch by inch.
“Well, what I actually said was ‘just friends for now.’” We both watched his finger trail up my leg, going nearer and nearer to my hip, to my core. My breath caught and pinpricks touched my skin, making me shiver all over.
“That’s a little better.” His finger was nearing the end of its journey to my hipbone, and I was finding breathing to be a tricky proposition. “I got a similar interrogation just now from Bill, here.”
“Oh yeah? What’d you tell him?”
Ian bobbled his head from side to side. “Well, he wanted to know what the deal was with us, since I haven’t brought a girl to meet the group in a long while. I told him things were still in the early stages. But, see, Bill, he’s awful persistent, and he knows me better than anyone, I think. So he wanted to know what I hoped would happen.”
“And?” I prompted, blinking hard as Ian’s finger traveled back down my leg to my knee, sliding inward just slightly and beginning a new trail upward, this time along the inside of my thigh.
“And…” Ian leaned even closer, his mouth near my ear, his voice pitched so low only I could hear him. “And my hope is that you’ll let me take you back to your flat. My hope is that, once there, we’ll do things that would make Jane Austen faint.”
I swallowed hard. “You—you said that? To Bill?”
Ian laughed, a low chuckle. “Hell no. I thought it, though.”
“You really did? About Jane Austen I mean?” I turned to face him, finally meeting his eyes, which were so close I could see the streaks of lighter blue in his irises, the dark dot of his pupils.
His tongue flicked out to touch his lips, and my gaze followed it. “No, Nina. That’s not at all what my actual thoughts were.”
“What were they then?”
His lips tipped up in a smile and he shook his head. “Not sure you want the answer to that, really. Let’s just say my thoughts were…significantly more X-rated than that.” His finger was daring its way up between my thighs, and I couldn’t help wondering how far he would take this. We were being watched rather intently by everyone.
I sucked in a sudden breath. “X-rated?”
His eyes followed the lift of my breasts as I took another long breath. “Very X-rated. I thought rather vividly about a whole number of things I’d like to do to you.”
This was where I had to decide. I could shoot him down right now; that would be the safe and sensible thing to do. But I didn’t want to. Not at all. I wanted very much to know all about Ian’s X-rated thoughts. Maybe it was the beer talking, making him bolder than he’d normally be. Maybe it was the beer in my own system giving me the courage to go beyond my comfort zone.
But, regardless, the next words out of my mouth surprised even me. “What kind of thoughts, Ian?”
His smile widened, but his finger halted in its path, stopping halfway up my thigh, his palm on my quadriceps. “What happened to ‘just friends,’ Nina?”
I licked my lips and let the buzz do the talking. “Maybe I just said that for her benefit? What if I’ve had my own X-rated thoughts?”
“Have you?”
“Maybe.” I smirked. “But if I have any more beer without dinner, I’m not sure we’ll find out.”
Ian blinked twice at me, then stood up. “Well, mates, I’m off. Dinner time.”
“You just got here, Ian!” Bill said, standing up. He glanced at me, his dark eyes thoughtful, knowing.
“It was a long flight,” Ian said. “And airline food sucks. I need a burger and chips and a good night’s rest. I’m back now, anyway, and we can all have a good long night of drinking next time.”
Bill looked at me as he spoke to Ian. “Sure, sure. Next time. I see how it is.” He grinned, making it seem like a tease. I wasn’t sure it was, though.
Ian clapped Bill on the shoulder. “Don’t be jealous, mate.” He held his hand out to me, pulling me to my feet.
Bill shook his head, shaggy black hair shaking. “You’re impossible, Ian. You know that, right?”
“It’s a talent, what can I say?” Ian said, leading me out of the pub.
I followed him out, holding his hand.
Holding his hand.
Squee.
CHAPTER 4
He took me to a place called Gourmet Burger Kitchen which was a small, bustling joint near Earl’s Court that reminded me of an upscale Five Guys. The burgers were amazing, and we each chased our meals down with more beer. We didn’t talk much, which was strangely and wonderfully comfortable.
After we’d finished eating we went out onto the main street. Ian hailed us another taxi, giving the driver my address. Apart from the odd word here and there we still didn’t talk, and the silence was easy and relaxing. He also didn’t let go of my hand, an
d that was nice.
As we made our way up the three flights of stairs and into my flat I was desperately refusing to think about what would happen next, pushing away the impulse to overthink things. But, as the door to my flat closed behind me, my heart began hammering in my chest and I knew I couldn’t shut out my thoughts any longer.
Ian was in my apartment and I knew exactly what was on his mind.
Okay, maybe not exactly, but I was pretty sure of the basic gist of what he was expecting. What he wanted. For tonight, at least.
“Nina.” His voice surprised me, even though it shouldn’t have. I knew he was behind me. I’d stopped dead in the middle of my living room, purse clutched in one hand, lip between my teeth, hands shaking, legs shaking.
I turned around, staring up at Ian. “Yeah?” Well, that came out embarrassingly squeaky.
“You all right, Nina?” His eyes searched mine. He still had my left hand in his right, and he squeezed.
I squeezed back and nodded. “Yep. Totally copacetic.”
“Nina.” This was a blatant scold.
“Yes, Ian?” Play innocent, as if I wasn’t freaking out.
He smiled, an amused half-grin. “You wouldn’t bullshit me, would you?”
“Bullshit? Whatever are you talking about?” That may have been laying it on a bit thick, I realized.
“I can feel your hand shaking. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He pulled me toward the couch and sat me down. “Now. Cut the bullshit and tell me what’s got you all jittery all of a sudden.”
I thought about his question. How was I supposed to even begin explaining my thought processes? And then part of me—the conservative, prudish part—argued that if he had to ask what was wrong, he was dense and not worth my time. But I’d known him for less than twelve hours, so how could he understand me well enough to know? Exactly my point, Conservative Nina responded, so why are you considering jumping into the sack with him?
Big Love Abroad (Big Girls Do It Book 11) Page 4