London Falling

by Chanel Cleeton

“Breakfast first. I need to recharge my batteries since someone exhausted me last night—and this morning.”

  “You enjoyed every minute of it.”

  She was right; I did.

  My phone beeped again. I pulled it out and checked the message with a frown.

  “It’s Fleur.” I held the screen so she could see it. Yeah, I was becoming that guy. “She’s been texting all morning.” I grinned. “I think she wants details. You probably have a ton of missed calls and texts.”

  “Probably. My phone is off.”

  “Why?”

  “Roaming charges are really expensive.”

  I hated that she had to worry about things like roaming charges. I wasn’t stupid—I knew we lived very different lives. Even at a school like the International School, I lived in a different kind of financial reality from everyone else. But I still hated that Maggie had to budget so carefully.

  If it were anyone else I would have paid her damned cell phone bill myself. But it was Maggie. I didn’t want her to think I thought I could buy her, didn’t want money to come between us. She was proud—her independence was one of my favorite things about her. And yet...

  I wanted to take care of her.

  “Do you usually share the details of your sex life with Fleur?” Maggie asked.

  A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth when I heard the censure in her voice. “I don’t share every detail.”

  “But you do share some.”

  “I’ve never told Fleur anything about us.”

  “Does it bother you that I did? I mean, not details or anything, just the general stuff.”

  I reached down and squeezed her hand. “No. I’m glad you had someone to talk to. She’s one of your closest friends. Even though Fleur can be a giant pain in my ass, I appreciate her meddling. Sort of. She cares about you. I’m glad you have that. I’m glad you guys have each other.”

  “Since when did you become so profound?” Maggie teased.

  “Are you really going to bust my balls? It’s not even noon.”

  She laughed, the sound filling the air around us. “If I don’t bust your balls, who will?”

  I drew her against my body, loving the feel of her tits pressed against my arm, loving her sass. “Only you, babe.”

  Maggie

  SAMIR TOOK ME to breakfast at a casual little restaurant tucked away on a quiet side street. We feasted on coffee and croissants, huddled together at a small, round table with rickety chairs and served by a waitress who spoke only Spanish.

  It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

  I took a sip of my coffee. “So what’s next on the agenda?”

  “Shopping. Then the beach, maybe? We could do a picnic. Or just get drunk on wine.”

  “You want to go shopping?”

  “With you? Yeah.”

  “Aren’t boys supposed to be allergic to that sort of thing?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me. You’re the one who seems to have such firm notions about how men should behave.”

  I grinned. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were so enlightened.”

  “I’m French. French guys don’t hate shopping. We understand the importance of looking good.”

  “Because it helps you get laid,” I joked.

  He gave me a look best described as smoldering. “Babe, I don’t need help in that arena.”

  No, he certainly didn’t. “Why do I put up with you?”

  “Because you’re the only one who can keep up with me.”

  He was right. I wanted to be annoyed with him, wanted to see his arrogance as a turnoff. And yet, this—his smirk, our banter, the heat that rose up with each exchange—had me so turned on I was ready to go for round four. Or five.

  Something rippled through my body. As much as we joked and danced around it, I could tell things were different between us. I felt like I belonged at the table with him, my hand in his. And as much as my brain told me he couldn’t feel the same way, my heart saw my feelings reflected in his eyes and smile.

  Suddenly I got what Fleur had been warning me against; I understood her concern.

  I was falling for Samir. I’d been falling for him for a while now. And he’d told me already—this was just temporary.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Samir

  OVER HER PROTESTS, I took her shopping.

  I wasn’t lying, I didn’t mind shopping. Watching Maggie try on clothes wasn’t exactly a hardship, either. I’d be lying if I pretended the possibility of changing room sex hadn’t filled my mind. Especially when I convinced her to go to the lingerie shop.

  I tried to buy her things—a pair of Gucci shoes, a Fendi purse, a lacy red thong that would have looked amazing on her. In the end the only things she ended up letting me get were ice cream and a ridiculously cheap scarf we bought from a vendor on the street. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it made her smile. That was enough for me.

  My phone beeped again. I groaned. “I need to take a cue from you and turn the damned thing off.”

  “I feel bad—I’ve blown Mya and Fleur off this whole trip.”

  “Do you want to hang out with them tonight?”

  “Not really.”

  I grinned. “Good. Because I don’t want to share.”

  “I don’t either, but I still feel like a shitty friend. Maybe we should all go out tonight.”

  The selfish part of me wanted her all to myself, but I also wanted to make her happy.

  “I’ll get us on a list for a club.”

  Maggie stared up at me, surprise on her face. “Really? I figured you would rather stay in. Hanging out with me, Mya and Fleur doesn’t exactly sound like your definition of a good time.”

  “Yeah, but it’s yours. I want you to enjoy this trip. I’m the one who crashed it.”

  Her smile widened and suddenly I wanted to take her to the nicest club in Marbella—VIP, bottles of champagne, the whole bit. I wanted her there on my arm. We hadn’t thrown around titles and yet I wanted to call her my girlfriend. I wanted to show her off. Not just because she was gorgeous, but because she was amazing. She was funny and smart and cool; she was so real—completely different from anyone I had ever met before.

  More than anything, she got me. She wasn’t with me because I was rich or came from a powerful family. She made me feel like I could be a different guy. Someone better. Someone I’d never cared about being before. She was special and she made everyone around her feel like they could be special, too.

  “You’re spoiling me.”

  I grinned. “I’m trying. I wish you would let me spoil you more.”

  Maggie pressed a kiss to my cheek. “You’ve done more than enough.”

  “What did I do to deserve you?” I asked, my voice light, teasing. I tried to act like the question didn’t matter. But it did. I knew what girls saw in me; I was used to it. But Maggie didn’t seem to want those things or care about them, and it staggered me.

  “You aren’t the guy you show to everyone else. You’re different—more. I like discovering that. I like the part of you feels like a secret only I know about.”

  For a moment I couldn’t form the words I wanted to say to her. She made me tongue-tied, twisted me into knots. I didn’t feel like I had game with her. I felt raw, exposed. She was five feet, four inches of scary and I couldn’t get enough of her.

  Maggie

  THE BEACH WAS our next destination. We linked hands, walking with our shoes off, toes digging into the sand. We strolled in silence, the waves crashing against the shore the only sound around us. It was chilly between the sea air and the cold, wet ground and yet I didn’t really care.

  Today had been one of those days that felt too good to be true. There was a haze over it—it felt like a dream, like I had borrowed someone else’s life. Maybe I had. Maybe the knowledge that this was temporary made it even more special. We felt finite, like a moment—a shooting star or the fireflies Jo and I used to chase during the summer. This feeling—the idea that I belonged,
that I’d finally found a place I could be myself—I wanted to cling to it.

  “You’re quiet.”

  I turned to look at Samir, a wave of surprise crashing over me the way it always did when I saw him. He was so different from the kind of guy I’d grown up expecting to find. I couldn’t imagine him in my world, eating barbecue or going to a football game. I couldn’t quite see myself in his.

  I loved London. I loved the International School and going to clubs and drinking champagne. I loved feeling like I was standing on the edge of a whole new world, close enough to dip my toes in. I loved the possibility of it all, the magic and the adventure of this life. But as weird as it sounded, I loved being a visitor and not a permanent resident. I saw how things were for Mya and Fleur—they had everything, more money than I could probably ever dream of—but I doubted much dazzled them anymore. I loved being dazzled—the rush of excitement, the sense that I must be dreaming, that I was living far beyond my own potential. I never wanted to lose that feeling.

  “Just thinking of how we must be the perfect example of opposites attracting.”

  “I’m not sure I would call us opposites.”

  “Have you looked at us lately? I’m pretty sure we couldn’t come from more different places if we tried.”

  “True.” Samir studied me, curiosity in his voice. “You never really talk about South Carolina.”

  “It’s not that exciting. I come from a small town—a couple stoplights.” I shrugged. “It’s nice, the people are friendly, everyone knows each other and people live their whole lives there. It works for them.”

  “It didn’t work for you.”

  “No, it didn’t.”

  I didn’t know how to explain it to him. Maybe I didn’t know how to explain it myself.

  “Why?”

  I pushed a stray strand of hair away from my face, staring out at the ocean. We’d stopped walking, our bodies specs in the large expanse of beach. The sand felt endless, and this late in the day, with the sun almost setting, it was nearly empty—our own private world.

  “Because I didn’t fit there. I tried. I wanted to. But it just never felt like home.” I sighed. “When I was a kid I used to hear about my dad going to all of these cool places—Korea, Japan, Germany—and I kept waiting for him to take me with him.” I laughed, the sound eaten up by the waves. “I would get these stupid guide books from the library and I would read them cover to cover. I wanted to know everything about his life there. I wanted to be ready—” I broke off, staring out into the ocean. “I wanted to be ready in case he ever came and got me.”

  I hated how pathetic it sounded, how much it seemed like my entire life had been defined by my father’s absence, his choices, never mine.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged it off, like I didn’t need to hear the words, even though a part of me did need them. No one had ever acknowledged that I got a shit deal from both my parents. My grandparents made excuses for my dad’s absence, but they never acknowledged he had fucked up. In all fairness, I’d never talked about it. Until now. Until Samir.

  “I think I just always tried to convince myself things were temporary. That I would only be in South Carolina for a few years before he would come get me. Obviously that wasn’t the case.” I grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a total downer.”

  “You and your American expressions. You weren’t being a downer.”

  I elbowed him in the side.

  “You’re going home for Christmas?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Will your dad be there?”

  “This year. Yeah. He’s bringing her home.” I didn’t bother keeping the edge out of my voice. I liked that I could be myself, unfiltered, with Samir. He’d been the first person I’d talked to after I’d found out my father had married a stranger. He’d pretty much seen it all when it came to my baggage.

  “That sounds pretty miserable.”

  “I have a feeling it will be.”

  He gathered me closer against his body. “I think I’m going to miss you.”

  Something tightened in my chest. “I may miss you, too,” I teased.

  “Oh, really? What’s this ‘may’ business?”

  I grinned. “I can’t let you get a big head. Although I’m pretty sure we’re past that point.”

  “Very funny.” He grabbed me, his arms wrapped tightly around my body, lifting my feet off the ground. He spun in a circle, pulling me along with him. I was dizzy and breathless, completely swept away in the moment and the feel of his strong body anchoring mine.

  “What are you doing?”

  He winked. “Getting you back.” He moved closer to the water, his eyes dancing.

  I turned my head, looking down at the waves. “Don’t even think about it. It’s cold and we’re going to get soaking wet.”

  “Where’s your sense of adventure?” He inched closer to the shore. Water hit my calves, and the saltwater smell filled my nostrils.

  “Samir.” My voice held a warning note, but as far as protests went, mine were weak.

  His lips swooped down and suddenly I didn’t care about the water anymore.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Samir

  THE END OF the winter semester snuck up on us in a wave of papers and exams and crap I didn’t want to be doing. Before I knew it, I was looking at my last week in London before winter break, my last week with Maggie.

  I didn’t want to let her go even though I knew I had to. She would head back to her grandparents and I was going to France. We split most of our time between Beirut and Paris, but my mother liked to spend Christmas with her family so I usually spent the winter in Paris. Plane tickets had been purchased, plans made. But I saw the shadow that clouded Maggie’s eyes every time she talked about her Christmas plans. If I could have spared her having to go home and deal with the shit with her dad, I would have.

  I trailed a hand down her bare side, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her naked skin.

  “We’re supposed to be studying,” she protested, lifting her head from the book on my bed.

  I ran my hand through her hair, tilting her chin with my free hand and capturing her lips. My tongue slipped into her mouth, teasing, devouring her. I shifted, pulling her along with me, wrapping her gorgeous legs around me, making sure she felt just how much I wanted her.

  “Studying,” Maggie murmured against my mouth, her teeth tugging on my lower lip.

  I stroked her tits through her thin top, the fabric already bunched up, exposing plenty of pale skin.

  “It’s just a small break. I only need a few minutes.”

  Maggie laughed. “Oh, lucky me. With an invitation like that, how can I resist?”

  I grinned. “Hey, I’m exhausted. I seem to remember someone waking me up in the middle of the night.”

  “I didn’t hear any complaints.”

  “And you never will.” I leaned forward, brushing my mouth against hers.

  “We both have finals tomorrow,” she reminded me, the words getting lost between our kisses.

  “It’ll be fine.” I cupped my hands around her waist, squeezing, drawing her flesh against mine.

  Maggie pulled back. “It will not be fine. Scholarship, remember? I can’t afford to do badly. No matter how much I’d rather be doing you.”

  I sighed, resting my forehead against hers.

  “Fine. I’ll be good.” I moved my hands off of her, staring up at her gorgeous face.

  She rolled away, grabbing the book from the floor.

  “But you’re going to have to put on a sweatshirt or something if we’re going to keep studying. I can’t concentrate—especially when you aren’t wearing a bra.”

  Maggie laughed. “Cute, but I’m out. I’m going to head back to my room and study with Fleur and Mya for a bit.”

  “You sure?” I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. Sometimes I worried I came on too strong, that she’d get freaked out by how much I liked having her around. But with t
ime a limited commodity between us, it was impossible not to feel like I had to make the most of every moment.

  “Yeah. I’m really worried about this exam. It’s all essay and the professor’s kind of a dick.” She gave me a look filled with mock censure. “Besides, isn’t your final in the class you’ve been messaging me during? Maybe you should be studying, too.”

  I did my best to look contrite. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Maggie laughed.

  “Are we still on for tomorrow night?”

  I tried to sound casual about it. It was our last night in London before we each went home for winter break. For three weeks. Three very long weeks. It was possible I was dreading it as much as Maggie.

  I didn’t exactly talk to my parents during the school semester so the fallout from my breakup with Layla had been minimal at best. But now that I would be home for three weeks... I could already envision the lecture. Something about how I was disappointing my parents and not living up to my legacy. My father would remind me of my worst childhood transgressions and my mother would do her best to throw a series of society girls at me. The only benefit was that at least in Paris I had Fleur, so that was one family member I could stand.

  Maggie grinned—that big silly grin of hers, the one that made her whole face light up—and all thoughts of my holiday fled. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  I pressed a swift kiss to her lips. “Good luck on your exam tomorrow.”

  She hesitated for a moment. “Why don’t I come back after I’m done studying? I can sleep here.”

  A stupid grin slid onto my face. We’d slept together every night since Marbella. I’d gotten used to having her in my bed, curled up beside me. I’d never been big on sharing my space with someone—I was more a sprawl-out-all-over-the-bed kind of guy—but with her, it worked.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  Maggie

  I DIDN’T WANT TO leave. I was cursing my stupid decision to spend Christmas at home. I hadn’t wanted to disappoint my grandparents, but maybe I should have come up with another plan. One that didn’t involve being away from Samir for three weeks—or having to be around my dad.

  I walked back to my room, trying to push the fear and doubt out of my mind. It was just three weeks. We could handle three weeks. I tried to ignore the part of me that worried he would change his mind about us or meet some girl in some club.