by Anna Lewis
She flopped onto her bed, having given up on removing the rest of her clothes which left herself still in her bra and shirt but devoid of her pants and shoes, at least. She'd had the foresight to put water and pills on the side table, which was good because as soon as her head hit the pillow she knew she wasn't getting up again.
***
The mother of all hangovers greeted her when she woke up the next morning. As much as it hurt to think, her brain remembered what to do: take pills, drink water, get in the shower and eat something even though she felt like she wanted to puke. All in all it took about an hour for her to go through the motions, but by the end of it she felt good enough to actually put on pants and go down to get the mail she had forgotten to grab yesterday. The bright lights in the staircase hurt her eyes but Scarlett soldiered on all the way down to the mailbox on the ground floor. She flipped through her mail – junk, junk, junk – then turned around to go back up and met something very solid that almost but not quite managed to knock her on her behind. She opened her mouth and let out a stream of curses that were stopped by the hand held out to her. Scarlett grudgingly took it, prepared to use what little strength her aching body had to pull herself up only to be yanked onto her feet with no effort on her part. She grumbled out a thank you and finally looked up and had all of the air sucked from her lungs.
It was her neighbor. She knew that much. He lived above her, but she didn't remember him ever being quite this attractive. Dirty blond hair, green eyes, sharp features and god he was tall. And lanky. How had that completely passed her notice? Of course, she'd only ever seen glimpses of him. She didn't really talk to either of her neighbors and they didn't talk to her. It was kind of an unspoken agreement that they all kept to themselves. She wondered how it had been possible she had never even bumped into them. She racked her brains trying to think of an answer and didn't come up with anything other than completely different schedules when her neighbor's voice broke her out of her thoughts.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“What?” Scarlett asked, stupidly.
“You fell hard,” he repeated. “You okay?”
“Uh, yeah,” Scarlett managed. “Fine.”
“You're in the middle right?” he asked, as if it wasn't obvious by the location of Scarlett's name on the mailbox. “Sorry about the noise. Hope it doesn't bother you too much. Last person that lived here got so fed up they moved out.”
“Uh, yeah I'm kind of used to it,” Scarlett replied. His voice was nice but it was hurting her head. “It's all just white noise at this point.” Which was a lie because there were still nights when all the banging and moaning kept her awake. “So is it your girlfriend coming over or a boyfriend, or...?”
“No, no girlfriend,” the man said with a grin. Scarlett glanced at the mailboxes. Titus was his name. That was weird. He must have hippie parents or something. His teeth were sharp, too, like Hunter's. Genetics were weird. “So if you ever want to come up...”
“Yeah, I don't really do throwaway flings any more,” she replied. “Sorry.”
“The offer is always there,” Titus said with a wink as well. “See you around, neighbor.” He headed out the door.
Scarlett frowned at his retreating back. “Yeah, not bloody likely,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. She tramped back up to her apartment, junk mail in hand. Well, at least she knew what the guy looked like. No wonder there was a different girl up there every night, or the same girl, whichever. If she were inclined towards casual sex she'd probably be taking advantage of living so close to him.
She was tempted to get back into bed but knew better so instead fetched her phone and sat on the couch instead with the TV on mute, so as not to make her headache any worse. As she moved her finger to unlock her phone she realized that she had never texted Hunter to let him know she'd gotten home safe. She didn't feel a sudden wave of anxiety or anything but she did feel guilty for having forgotten. The only message she had from him was several question marks. Scarlett quickly texted back.
//So sorry, totally passed out.
\That's ok. Still on for tonight?
//Yeah. Hopefully you'll get a less hungover me.
She texted him her address
, and Hunter texted back telling her to relax and that he would see her later.
Scarlett intended to relax. There was plenty on TV to watch and as long as she kept a steady stream of water entering her system she knew by the time Hunter came to get her she'd be fine. She took one nap after a big lunch and when she woke up she felt miles better. Then came the really hard part; trying to figure out what to wear. Casual or sexy or in between? Scarlett had a feeling that casual was the way to go. Of course casual didn't mean not nice. Most of her wardrobe was built around work, which meant it wasn't hard for her to find a nice pair of jeans and a tight-fitting t-shirt. Hunter didn't strike her as a fussy guy. He probably wouldn't even care what she was wearing. She was really only doing it for herself.
When it was close to when Hunter was supposed to arrive Scarlett went downstairs and outside to have a quick smoke, toying around with her phone and trying not to look like she was waiting. Casual, she told herself. Be casual. The nicotine helped calm her down. She threw the butt out when it was done and didn't light another one, but fished around in her little bag for her tin of mints, popping one in her mouth. She gave her shirt a sniff. She smelled a bit like smoke. With a grimace she dropped her shirt. She should have thought about that before she lit one up. Hopefully Hunter wouldn't notice, or if he did he wouldn't mind. The place Scarlett wanted to go, which was yet another pub but a nicer one than the one by work, usually had a tinge of smoke in the air anyway. It was a newer place, more a restaurant than a pub, but if it had a bar and served alcohol then it was a pub, regardless of if it sold food or not.
She'd been waiting long enough that she was considering texting Hunter to ask where he was when a little silver Ford pulled up in front of her. The window rolled down and Hunter poked his head out.
“Hey,” he said. “You look nice. Where are we going?”
“The Red Cow.”
Hunter gave her a look. “I told you you can go wherever you want and you wanna go to another pub?”
“It's a nice one,” Scarlett said. “I assume you know it?”
“Whatever you want,” Hunter said and showed his teeth in a grin. Scarlett tapped playfully on the hood of the car as she went around to the passenger side of the car. It smelled like pine trees inside, but Scarlett couldn't see an air freshener anywhere. Hunter must have hidden it pretty well. Maybe it would rub off on her and get rid of the cigarette smell that had settled on her shirt. Hunter smoothly pulled away from the curb. Honestly they could have walked to the bar and been there in under twenty minutes, but she wasn't about to complain. It wasn't very warm in the car, though. Maybe Hunter didn't mind the cold so much, but Scarlett definitely did. She kept her mouth shut, though, until Hunter noticed how curled into herself she was.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No,” Scarlett lied. “I'm fine. Besides it's like a five minute drive, I'm fine.” She was only shaking a little bit, anyway. Hunter didn't say anything else. It took a couple laps around the block to find a parking space that was anywhere in the vicinity of close. Once they were out of the car Hunter sidled up close and draped an arm over her shoulders. She almost pulled away in surprise.
“Christ, you're warm,” she said.
Hunter chuckled. “Yeah, sorry, naturally high body temperature. Hope it doesn't both you.”
“No, it's nice,” Scarlett replied. “It's like I have my own personal heater.” Hunter let out a laugh that made Scarlett beam. He thought she was funny. When was the last time a guy had gotten her sense of humour? Not since university, probably.
Once they got inside the bar Hunter pulled out Scarlett's chair for her and lounged across from her. “So,” he said, “how was your day? Still hung over?”
“A little,” Scarlett
admitted, “but not enough for me to stand you up.”
“I totally would have taken it personally,” Hunter said with a sharp smirk. Scarlett giggled but blushed. They ordered drinks and waited a bit longer to decide on food. Scarlett hid her face behind the menu, only occasionally peeking over the top at Hunter, who was completely engrossed in his own. A few minutes later he asked if she was ready and when the waiter came back they put in their order. Scarlett had chosen water over a drink, not wanting to exacerbate her hangover. Hunter did the same, perhaps so she wouldn't feel left out.
“So about your day,” Hunter prompted.
“I ran into my neighbor,” Scarlett said.
“Is that unusual?” Hunter asked.
“Surprisingly. I pretty much never see them. But I ran into the guy who lives above me today, literally, when I went to go get my mail. He apologized for all the loud sex he's constantly having and asked if I'd be interested.”
Hunter laughed, but it sounded forced. “What'd you say?”
“Same thing I told you. I don't do one night stands.”
“And what did he say to that?”
“That I know where he is if I ever change my mind.”
“Sounds like an ass,” Hunter said.
“He was really nice, actually,” Scarlett replied. “And cute. It's no wonder he gets laid all the time.”
“I'm cute,” Hunter sulked. Scarlett smiled and reached across the table to ruffle his already messy hair. Hunter scowled at her and brushed her hand away, gently.
“You are,” Scarlett replied. “And obviously I like you or I wouldn't be here right now.”
“Oh really?” Hunter asked. Like a switch being flipped his attitude changed from dejected to something almost predatory. “So maybe I have a chance tonight?”
Scarlett snorted but there was heat in the pit of her stomach. “You wish,” she said. Hunter didn't reply but he didn't have to. The way he was looking at her was answer enough. He was happy to take her out on a date and get to know her but he wanted more than conversation. Scarlett considered it briefly in the few seconds of uninterrupted silence she had while the waiter brought them their food. Going home with Hunter and sleeping with him didn't mean it had to be a one night stand and maybe she could get back at Titus with some noisy sex of her own. Strangely, the thought of him stopped her. She couldn't figure out why before she was drawn back into conversation with Hunter but the question picked at the back of her mind. If Hunter noticed she was at all distracted he didn't say anything.
However, not very long into the date, his watch beeped. He glanced down at it, casually, but then his face paled.
“Shite,” he said. “I have to go. Emergency.”
“Why, what's wrong?” Scarlett asked.
“Family stuff,” Hunter said quickly. He stood, still apologizing, and threw a wad of bills down onto the table. “That'll cover this. I'll text you, okay? I'm really sorry. Really sorry.” Even as he backed away from the table he was apologizing. Confused and shocked Scarlett couldn't do anything but watch him leave. She sat for a moment in stunned silence before her brain kicked back into gear. Well, at least they had almost finished eating.
***
Scarlett elected to walk home and tried not to feel like she'd been screwed over. Either Hunter had had a genuine emergency or he was a really good actor. She hoped it was the former. Well, not hoped, but she preferred that over the other. She lit up a cigarette and tilted her head back to look at the sky as she exhaled a stream of pale smoke into the cool air. It was overcast, as was usual for England, but the moon was bright and full through a gap in the clouds. She remembered her mother telling her once that full moons made people act funny, but Scarlett only ever though it applied to women, even though her mother had never mentioned that. Maybe the full moon messed with guys' heads, too. Or maybe he was some kind of werewolf or something. Scarlett snorted loudly and choked back a laugh that both hurt her head and made a couple of guys she was walking past give her an odd, confused look. Yeah, Hunter was a werewolf. That was rich. She needed another water and a good night's rest.
She was pretty damn cold by the time she got home and was regretting having not gotten a cab instead. In the foyer of her building she rubbed her arms and stamped her feet in an attempt to warm up before mounting the stairs. When she got to her door, however, and searched her pockets and then her bag for her keys, panic started to mount, and then frustration and anger. Not in her pockets, not in her bag. Where were they? She racked her mind. On the fucking kitchen counter where she'd thrown them last night, of course they were! She pounded on the door as if that would get it to open, and growled. She stopped just short of hitting her forehead against the door too; her head hurt enough without adding more pain to it. She was muttering curses under her breath and scrolling through her contacts list for her landlord's phone number when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
“Locked out?”
Scarlett sighed and turned around. “Yeah.”
“You know you're not gonna reach him this late on a Sunday, right?” Titus said.
“Can't hurt to try,” Scarlett mumbled.
“Just saying,” Titus replied. He leaned against the wall close by and waited while Scarlett dialled the landlord and while the call rang through to voicemail. She left a quick message then ended the call and resisted the urge to throw her phone down the stairwell.
“Wanker.”
Titus laughed. “Could be worse. Got somewhere to crash?”
“My parents I guess. Put up with my mum giving me a lecture about making sure I have everything before I leave the house like she did every time I left my keys in my car like she doesn't do the exact same bloody thing all the time.”
“Why don't you come on upstairs? I don't have anyone staying over tonight so I can make up the couch for you.”
“Yeah, no thanks,” Scarlett replied. “I already told you I don't do one night stands.”
“It's not like that, I swear,” Titus said. He looked and sounded genuine. Scarlett took a deep breath and let her frustration go.
“I'm sorry,” she said. “Had a shit night. My date ran out on me.”
“Talk about wankers,” Titus replied with sympathy. “Seriously, you shouldn't have to put up with your parents unless you want to.”
Scarlett sighed. “Yeah, all right, but no funny business.”
Titus moved his finger in an x over his chest. “Cross my heart,” he replied with a smile that seemed serpentine. Scarlett followed him up the next flight of stairs and waited while he unlocked the door and let her in. She stepped over the threshold she looked around the living room. There wasn't any difference in size or layout from her own flat, but the décor was dramatically different. Scarlett's place was decorated with a collection of knick knacks and odds and ends brought from her parents' house or picked up after she got her own place. Titus' home was more refined.
“Lots of dragons,” she said rather obviously.
“Too much?” Titus asked.
“No, no,” Scarlett replied. “Dragons are cool.”
“They're a symbol of luck.” He headed down the hall to the linen closet.
“Are you superstitious?” Scarlett asked.
“Isn't everyone in England?” he joked. He pulled a large quilt off a high shelf then grabbed a pillow from the bedroom. He put them on one corner of the sofa. “Drink?”
“You got a fizzy drink?”
“Yeah, sure.” He popped into the kitchen and poured a Coke into a glass for her. He sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him. Scarlett sat. “Do you wanna talk about what happened?” he asked.
“I'm not really sure what happened to be honest,” Scarlett replied. “It was going fine, and then an alarm went off on his watch and he just split. Said it was a family emergency which I don't believe for a second. He paid, at least, but honestly I'm more than a bit pissed off.”
“I would be, too,” Titus said, “but maybe it really was a family e
mergency. Shit happens, yeah?”
“Yeah, shit happens.” Scarlett sipped at her soda, letting the bubbles fizz in her mouth. “You sure it's okay if I crash here?”
“Yeah, of course,” Titus said with a grin. “What are neighbors for? Think of it as an apology for being so loud all the time. I know the floors are thin.”
“It's fine,” Scarlett said. “Stopped bothering me a long time ago. Each to his own, right?”
“Glad you see it that way,” Titus said. “Tell me more about this guy you saw tonight. What's he like?”
“Tall dark and handsome,” Scarlett said with a little snicker. “He bought me a drink on Friday then asked me out yesterday and I said yeah. Probably a bad idea, in hindsight.”
“Well, if you ever want something a bit... lighter,” Titus said suggestively. Scarlett blushed but she didn't feel uncomfortable. Titus was being flirty but he had made no moves towards her and all in all was being very polite.
“I'll keep that in mind,” Scarlett said. “So, what do you do when you're not banging random chicks?”
“I'm a historian, if you can believe that,” Titus said.
“Oh really?” Scarlett asked. “D'you teach?”
“No, I just help compile information for documentaries and textbooks and sometimes for private authors. I'm an expert on British mythology.”
“There a lot of those around?” Scarlett asked. “Seems like there's always someone claiming to be an expert on Arthurian lore.”
“Not as many as you'd think,” Titus replied. “At least not good ones. I'm in fairly high demand.”