Blush: A Strangers-to-Lovers Romance

by Rachel De Lune

  Astrid pulled that face again—her brows down and looking cross. “She’s my best friend. She saw you with a random girl and pointed out that we don’t know each other that well. What was she supposed to do?”

  “I don’t want to get in the way of your friendship, but I also don’t want your friends getting in the way of us. Can I call this,” I gestured between the two of us, “an us?”

  She takes far too long to answer that for my heart to take.

  “I want to.”

  I grabbed her hands again and smoothed my fingers down the back of her hand. At least she wasn’t putting up walls any longer.

  “Good. I promise. I’m not messing around. I like you. A lot, and just because this is new or a bit out of the blue, doesn’t mean I don’t feel what this could be between us. We might need to lay off the morning dates and coffee though. Unless it’s the bedroom kind.” I pulled her towards me and leant over to kiss her forehead. This girl was special to me, and there was no way I’d let some jealous, Barbie-wannabe get in our way.

  12

  Leo

  “Hey, man. I thought you’d cleared everything up with Astrid?” Matthew dipped and ducked, but his footwork was weak and let him down, and I kept up the barrage of punches. Not because I was in a bad mood, but because finally, things were going well. And it felt good. That energy that always simmered through my veins still needed an outlet, and for the foreseeable future, this was it.

  I gave him a breather.

  “I did.”

  “Then what gives?”

  “Nothing.” Thank fuck I’d not given up on her and had forced the date. Now we were on the same page we could clear up this communication shit. I wanted to grab hold of Astrid and never let her go.

  Our date—the proper one—was fantastic. We ate, drank, and once the clear-up was over, we spent the hours until closing talking about anything and everything. I even avoided the twenty questions. And for this date at least, I was the perfect gentleman. Although, my dick didn’t appreciate being blocked by my good manners.

  But no matter how good our date, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Sawyer was out to cause trouble.

  “You ever gonna teach me how to punch like that?”

  I looked back up at Matthew. “Are you serious? I’m not a coach. I just know some stuff.”

  “I’ve said it before. You know more than that, and I’m glad I’ve got you as back up at the bar.” He gave me a look that warned he wasn’t taking any bullshit.

  “We can set up a few pointers. First one, your footwork. Get doing some agility work, and that will help.” I slapped him on the back and headed to the changing rooms.

  It had been a couple of days since I’d last seen Astrid, and I was taking her out again tomorrow night. “Hey, where can I take Astrid? Somewhere nice that won’t cost the earth, or dupe me on the fancy cuisine that comes with foam or in micro-size.”

  “There are a couple of places. If she likes Thai or fusion, I know just the place.”

  “Thanks, man. I’ve got to get home. I’m dead on my feet and need to catch some sleep.”

  “See you tonight,” he called back.

  All the way home, I cursed the caveat I had to place on taking Astrid out. She deserved the best, not for me to be checking prices before agreeing to the venue. Frustration ticked my skin and soured the good mood I’d just found.

  I thought about the Tom Ford suit hanging in my wardrobe and wondered if I’d have an occasion to wear that again and not feel overdressed. It was a weird limbo to be in—wanting to have my own independence, and still craving the benefits of the money that my past career afforded me, but knowing that neither would come quickly.

  Sod it. I could wear Tom Ford to a semi-casual Thai restaurant if I wanted.

  It was a freezing night, which led to a quiet evening. Some people in London did have some sense. No queue, no groups of girls trying their luck, just customers eager to get inside and warm up. It was busy enough that the place didn’t look empty, but there were spare tables. Customers seemed content to sit and chat with their choice of fro-fro cocktail.

  If it had been busy, I doubt I’d have spotted her. It was like she’d waited for me to be off the door and doing my circuit inside. But she couldn’t get lost in the crowd tonight. Sawyer snuck in and took a quick look around before heading across the floor. I clocked her, and this time didn’t let her leave my sight. She wouldn’t be giving me the slip again. She didn’t stop at the bar but sneaked through the connecting door into Parlour bar. It was a quiet night, and I knew I wouldn’t be missed for five minutes, so I followed her through. I wanted to understand what her problem was.

  The two bars didn’t tend to mix. We knew the staff, but that was about it. I hung back and watched as Sawyer headed to the far end of the bar and ordered a drink. Paul, the other barman, gave me a curious glance, and I signalled that I was watching Sawyer.

  After a minute or two and a double shot of amber liquid, she headed back towards the quieter areas—if that was even possible. The place was so dead it was horizontal.

  I took a seat on one of the bar stools, my back to the rest of the bar and watched her in the mirrored reflection. She met with a salt-and-pepper-haired man who looked like he could be her father rather than her boyfriend. I turned around to get a better view—there was no direct line of sight, just glimpses through the wing-backed chairs and other furniture that made up Parlour Bar.

  As I moved to get a different angle, I saw his face sneer as he whispered in her ear, at the same time as he grabbed Sawyer by her neck and smacked her arse. She caught herself on the bookcase to the side of the small alcove they’d been occupying before he led her through to a door at the back.

  Everything inside me screamed to find out what was happening. Regardless of my less-than-warm feelings for Sawyer, I didn’t want to see her in a compromising position where she couldn’t say no. And everything about that encounter was off.

  “Hey, Paul. Who was that guy at the back?”

  “Oh, Mr Wiseman? He’s a regular. Good tipper, but I guess you wouldn’t see much of that.”

  No shit. “And where does that door lead?”

  Paul stopped and looked up from polishing his glass and stared wide-eyed at me. “Um, just one of the private rooms.”

  “Private rooms?” I clarified. For all I knew, this place didn’t have private rooms. Hell, stripping and sex were the only things you needed those for, and we offered neither here.

  “Yeah. Don’t worry, Leo. I think you’d better be getting back.” He shut the conversation down, but I wasn’t done.

  “No. Come on, what the hell’s going on?”

  “Is there a problem, Leo?” Richard appeared at my side and placed a hand on my shoulder.

  “Yeah. What’s going on here that would need private rooms?” And why the hell was Sawyer in one?

  “Leave it, Leo.”

  But I couldn’t. “Is my uncle in? Does he know?”

  “Leo.” His warning was clear, but I didn’t listen.

  I marched out through the back of the bar and to the office my uncle seldom occupied. I didn’t bother to knock.

  “Do me a favour, tell me straight, what is this place?”

  Uncle Eric looked up at me from his laptop and eyed the door. I didn’t budge.

  “Well, good evening, Leo. As you may already have gathered, this is a bar.”

  I wasn’t in the mood for his games. “Cut the crap. Why have we got customers going into private rooms at the back of Parlour Bar?”

  “I don’t know what you mean? I’m certainly not aware of any such behaviour.” He placed his hands on his chest in an over-exaggeration of his words.

  “Who’s Mr Wiseman?”

  Uncle Eric’s eyebrows shot up, and he closed his laptop. It seemed that name had got his attention.

  “Leo, you’re working. Get back to your job and close the door on your way out.” He’d sobered quickly—no jovial comments or smiles now.

>   “Whatever.” If he were going to play games, I’d find the answers myself. I left and slammed his office door behind me, heading straight for Parlour Bar again.

  I stormed past Richard, shoving him out of the way as I beelined for that back door. For some reason, I couldn’t shake the vision of Wiseman’s snarled face as he manhandled Sawyer. I had to see if she was okay.

  The pee-wee guy standing by the door attempted to prevent me from my goal. He had no chance. I pushed him out of the way and opened the door, and everything I had feared played out in front of me.

  Wiseman had Sawyer’s wrists tethered together and restrained from a chain dangling from the ceiling. Her back was to me, but Wiseman’s trousers were around his ankles as he moaned in sync with his thrusts. Fucking her with no care what he was doing to her.

  “What the...”

  “Jesus, what the hell.” He stopped and peered over his shoulder.

  “Get out!” Sawyer screamed. Her shrill voice cut through the room but did nothing to calm my raging temper. It had grown into an explosive threat in my chest, desperate to find a release.

  We all started shouting at each other before I was pulled away by Richard and the dweeb on the door. Wiseman was shoving his cock back in his pants as I was hauled out.

  The door was firmly closed behind me, and Richard looked at me with a reddening face. “What the fuck, Leo? You were told to stay out of this.”

  “Not when that guy is pushing Sawyer into sex with him. What the hell is this, anyway? I can’t believe we’d let that go on here.”

  “And you need to get down off your high-horse. You have no idea what or who you’re messing with.”

  “I saw him manhandle her into that room. Am I supposed to let it go on unchecked?” I threw my arms out, daring Richard to contradict me.

  “And you’re the saviour come to rescue the damsel in distress? Grow up, Leo.”

  “Fuck you!” The toxic rage was taking hold, turning everything red and firing my muscles. It was just how I felt before a fight, and even that familiar feeling wasn’t enough to stop me.

  The door opened, and out walked Wiseman. He clocked me and strode right up to my face. He had steely blue eyes, and despite him lacking a few inches on me, he still managed to look down at me.

  “You’re done, boy. Mark my words.”

  It was futile. I was livid at his superiority, and I lost control. My arm swung, and my fist connected with his jaw, sending him flying backwards into the bean-pole boy he’d chosen to guard him. He paused and grabbed his jaw as two people flung their weight behind me and pulled my arms behind my back.

  Wiseman straightened and with a measured calmness that finally cut through my bravado, stood before me again—my arms restrained this time.

  “Big mistake, boy.”

  I stared him down, refusing to give an inch to this man. But movement drew my concentration, and I caught a glimpse of Sawyer escaping out of the room and into the bar, her clothes put back together, and only a casual glance back.

  It didn’t matter. I’d done the right thing—my conscious was clean, unlike this slimeball’s.

  Wiseman left, and I let out a breath, hoping that I could ground my agitation. Nothing in my body felt calm right now, and it pissed me off. I snatched my phone from my pocket and fired a text to Astrid.

  Something went down at work tonight with Sawyer. She might need a friend.

  I turned away and headed back towards Companion.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Richard collared me before I reached the door.

  “To work. Come on, man. Fun’s over.”

  “Eric wants to see you.”

  Shit. I’d known that this wouldn’t end well, but despite the internal rage, I had to keep my cool.

  Richard escorted me to the office where he shook his head in disapproval. It made me feel like a fucking kid, and that only irritated me more. Why couldn’t anyone see all I did was help?

  After my entrance earlier, I didn’t bother knocking—what was the point? I strode in and stood in front of his pathetic-looking desk.

  “Leo.” He addressed me as if I was a problem he had to fix. With his fingers steepled together, he peered over his hands at me. “You’ve caused me a great deal of trouble. And after I’ve been so hospitable to you.”

  “You have got to be kidding me?”

  “Quiet,” he barked. It was the first time I’d ever heard him raise his voice in annoyance, and I chose to listen. “You were told. And now, I’m going to have to explain to my brother why I fired you.”

  “Fired me? For rescuing a girl from some sleaze?”

  “Sawyer did not need rescuing, believe me.”

  His comment snapped my attention. Why would he know Sawyer? But then, she had been visiting a lot. I’d just assumed she was trying to get dirt on me after the misinformation she gave to Astrid, but I was starting to think I’d read this all wrong.

  “Okay.” I gestured with my hands, hoping Uncle Eric would continue.

  “I don’t have to explain my business dealings to you, Leo. I gave you this job and a place to stay as a favour—family obligation of sorts. But you sabotaged that by interrupting the arrangement I have with a very generous patron. You’re fired.”

  “Come on,” I protested, hating that I needed this job.

  “You’ll be paid to the end of the month, but you’re gone.”

  The question about if I had to be gone from the apartment as well, was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to sound so desperate. Fuck. I had nothing again.

  I stood stock-still, my eyes trained on Eric—I wouldn’t refer to him as Uncle, anymore—and waited. For what, I didn’t really know. But I did know that a bitter taste had invaded my mouth, like being clocked in the jaw with a blow you didn’t see coming.

  “That’s all.” Eric dismissed me as easily as if I were a part-time employee he barely knew. I guessed that’s all I was in the end.

  Heat rose through my veins, and I knew I had to get out of there before I made things worse, so I turned to leave.

  “Oh, and I expect you to be out of the apartment by the end of the week, too. I’ll stay out of your way while you sort your accommodations.”

  Well, it saved me asking, or worse, begging to let me stay.

  I just had no fucking idea what the hell I would do now.

  13

  Leo

  “Hey, Leo? What gives?” Matthew called as he saw me leave from his spot at the door.

  “I’ll call you later.” I didn’t want to talk to anyone. He raised his eyes at me, and I couldn’t just walk away. He was a friend, so I turned back around.

  “What’s up?”

  “Look, I’ve got a situation.” I ran through my options and wondered if Matthew would do me a solid. “Any chance I could crash at yours for a couple of nights?”

  The caught-in-the-headlights gaze told me the answer before he spoke. “Um, look, I’d love to help out. But Belle has a say, and you’d have to take the couch and, well…”

  “No problem. I’ll work it out.” The sinking feeling took over. I hated having to share a place with Eric. Asking to crash at a friend’s—I wasn’t that guy. At least, I didn’t want to be.

  “Sorry, man. See you tomorrow?” he shouted as I walked away from the humiliation of having to ask for handouts.

  “Nah. Eric fired me. I’ll see you around.”

  But somehow, I doubted I would.

  The apartment was just the same as it was when I left earlier, and I took the time to survey the place. It would have been just the type of space I’d chosen if I were still fighting and earning decent money. And not for the first time, I considered the prospect of going back to it. I was good, and that little voice inside of my head seemed to have grown—the prospect now more tempting than ever, and right now, a lifeline was pretty appealing.

  No.

  I needed to crash and look at everything with fresh eyes in the morning. Nothing would com
e from this while I was amped up and tired.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket before I made it to the bedroom.

  Astrid.

  What’s happened? Sawyer’s not answering my calls?

  Best talk with her. Are you busy tomorrow morning?

  I crashed down on the bed, ignoring the crumpled suit I’d no longer need to wear.

  I didn’t think you liked mornings?

  I’ll always make an exception for you.

  And that was the fucking truth. My mind already raced with what I’d tell her and what that would mean for us. Hell, there was barely an us.

  Sweet. And appreciated. Bring coffee – mine at 10?

  Perfect. Now, sleep. It’s late x

  Bossy. I like it. Show me some more tomorrow?