by Paige Toon
‘I’ll walk you,’ he states.
‘Don’t be silly. It’s not far.’
‘I know you’re perfectly capable of looking after yourself,’ he says a touch sardonically, handing me his spare key. ‘But it would make me feel better.’
My insides are plagued with pesky winged creatures as we head downstairs together.
‘How long have you lived here?’ I ask.
‘A couple of years.’
‘Will it be hard to leave?’ I can only dream of having a place like this.
He shrugs. ‘In some ways, but there are more important things in life.’
‘Are you all right?’ I ask him outright as we reach the bottom of the stairs and exit the building. He still seems sub-dued. ‘Is it this job and coming back here, or is something else bothering you?’
‘I’m being a miserable git, aren’t I? Sorry. I’ll feel better once this weekend is out of the way.’
It’s only after he changes the subject, telling me about the bar on the corner and how it does a great brunch, that I realise he didn’t answer my question.
*
Nina and Aart, her boyfriend, live in an ordinary-looking apartment block, but it overlooks another pretty tree-lined canal and there’s a wisteria vine climbing up the wall by the door, abundant with flowers.
Sonny sees me to the door.
‘Come and say hi,’ I urge, my finger hovering over the buzzer.
He’s loosened up as we’ve walked, telling me about the local area and recommending places to visit tomorrow. I’m barely going to see him because he’ll be working, and I’m not ready to say goodbye to him yet.
He hesitates before agreeing.
Seconds after I press the buzzer, Nina bursts out through a door on the ground floor.
‘Hannah!’ she squeals, almost knocking me over in her desperation to hug me.
I squeeze her back just as hard. It’s been so long. Too long. Almost three years? That’s crazy. She was one of my best friends at school.
She hasn’t changed a bit. She still wears her chocolate-brown hair in a sleek chin-length bob and continues to rock the geek chic look with her tortoiseshell horn-rimmed glasses and quirky fashion sense. Tonight she’s wearing a red and black tartan miniskirt with a clashing bright orange jumper. Very Velma from Scooby Doo.
She withdraws and stares with unchecked interest at Sonny, who’s hanging back.
‘Nina, this my friend, Sonny,’ I say.
She goes straight in for a double cheek kiss and flashes me a wide-eyed look of pure glee.
I laugh because she’s not even trying to hide her expression.
‘You’re coming in for a drink, right?’ Nina asks him cheekily, taking his arm and frogmarching him towards her front door. ‘Abagael!’ she calls to the waif-like brunette who’s sitting on one of two bright-red sofas in the navy-painted living room. Aart’s sister, I presume. ‘Abagael, I’ve brought company! She recently split up with her boyfriend,’ she tells Sonny as an aside. ‘She needs eye candy. You don’t mind, do you?’
Abagael blushingly but good-naturedly stands up to be introduced. Sonny still seems uncertain about his agreeing to stay, but for now he’s going along with it.
‘Where’s Aart?’ I ask.
‘Oh, he’s in his office, working.’ Nina pulls a face and then shouts, ‘Aart! Get your butt out here now and have a drink with us!’
A frazzled-looking Aart emerges from a door off the living room.
He’s a few inches taller than Nina and me at about five foot nine, and he’s older – in his mid-thirties with heavy stubble and black hair.
‘Hannah,’ he says, coming over to kiss me hello while holding my upper arms affectionately. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
We’ve only met a couple of times, but he’s so warm and personable that I feel as though I’ve known him a lot longer.
Nina turns the music up – a crazy-sounding Dutch pop song – and we take to the red sofas with some drinks. There are bold pops of colour in every direction, from the canary yellow moulded plastic coffee table to the bright green curtains and the purple-and-orange rug.
‘You live in Amsterdam, Sonny?’ Nina asks.
‘Yeah, I’ve been here for almost ten years now.’
‘What do you do?’ Aart interjects.
‘I’m a photographer.’
‘What’s your surname?’
‘Denton.’
Aart’s eyes widen. ‘Sonny Denton?’ he asks.
Sonny nods.
‘We’ve got some of your work hanging in our shop!’
‘That’s so cool!’ I say proudly, turning to look at Sonny beside me.
He seems unfazed and I realise he probably plays down how good he is.
‘Which ones are Sonny’s?’ Nina asks Aart.
My friend and her boyfriend run a design shop that sells everything from quirky gifts to artwork. Nina handles the former, whereas Aart is more involved in the art side of things – he has the right name for it.
‘The naked girls, neon lines, ultraviolet light.’ He abbreviates his description, but it makes sense to Nina because she’s regarding Sonny with admiration.
‘That sounds titillating,’ Abagael chips in.
She’s not wrong, but the other emotions it evokes knock me for six.
I don’t like the idea of Sonny photographing naked models.
And I hate that I don’t like it.
Suddenly I’m furious with myself for pushing Johann away last night. I had a perfect opportunity to distract myself from the confusion of whatever it is I’m feeling about the man sitting next to me and I cocked it up.
The conversation moves on and I try to stay upbeat, but it’s a surprisingly exhausting act and when Sonny tells me he needs to make a move because he still has to prep for his shoot tomorrow, I fight the urge to tell him I’ll join him.
Nina, Aart and Abagael have left us alone momentarily.
‘Catch a taxi back,’ Sonny urges.
I roll my eyes.
‘Just because you’re confident you can handle yourself, doesn’t mean you actually can,’ he says quietly, and when I look at him he holds my gaze until my heart begins to quicken.
He breaks the contact by standing up when Aart comes out of the kitchen, closely followed by Nina. They exchange a few final words while I sit on the sofa and yawn violently.
Abagael spies me as she comes through from the bathroom and laughs, following suit.
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m going to bed,’ she says.
‘Will you have another drink, Hannah, or are you heading off too?’ Nina calls over to me.
I glance at Sonny to see his questioning look. He doesn’t seem to have considered that I’d be willing to leave with him.
‘Maybe I should come home with you,’ I say.
He’s surprised, but not unpleasantly so. ‘Okay.’
He waits by the door as Nina and I make plans for tomorrow and then we say our goodbyes and leave.
‘Are you okay to walk, or would you prefer to catch a taxi?’ he asks as we set off.
‘Walk,’ I reply obstinately, which is bloody stupid, really, as a taxi would be blissful right now.
We set off in silence, but I notice he takes a slower pace than on the way here. I’m wearing my walking shoes, but my bones are weary.
‘How did it happen?’ he asks gently, his gaze dropping to my left leg. ‘The car crash.’
I shake my head regretfully, feeling bad because I don’t want to offend him.
‘I don’t like to talk about it. Sorry.’
‘Fair enough,’ he replies, staring straight ahead.
He definitely feels slighted, but it’s not something I can help.
‘Late night last night?’ he asks drily as I yawn.
‘Not really. I’m just tired.’
A few paces later, I realise he was asking about Johann.
I sense he has more to say, but is resisting. I’m not sure how I f
eel about that.
‘Did you get up to anything?’ I’m not exactly steering the conversation away. ‘Oh, weren’t you hoping to have the girls?’
‘I was, but Rochelle said no. She wanted to stick to tonight for her date, so she roped her mum in to babysit instead. I caught up with Archie.’
I remember when he came to see me first on that Friday night a few weeks ago, he told me that Archie was his fallback option. Was that the case last night too? If Johann hadn’t turned up, would he have suggested us doing something? I like that he likes my company.
I like it too much.
‘So was that one of those no-strings-attached things?’ he asks, and it thrills me that he’s finally caved. He’s trying to sound flippant, but it did bother him, seeing me with Johann. I wasn’t at all sure before.
‘Mm,’ I reply noncommittally. ‘Didn’t quite turn out like that,’ I add, unable to help myself.
He shoots me a look. ‘Are you okay?’
I smile. ‘You might not think I’m safe walking through the streets of Amsterdam late at night, but I am capable of fending off giant Germans.’
He laughs loudly, adding, with a butterfly-inducing grin: ‘I’m glad to hear it.’
Fuck, I fancy him.
Chapter 20
It’s the smell of fresh coffee that finally tempts me from what has to be one of the comfiest beds I’ve ever slept in. Pushing Sonny’s soft downy duvet off my face, I’m instantly blinded by bright sunlight.
Ouch.
The unhindered view is lovely, but I’m not convinced it’s worth sacrificing blinds for at this hour of the morning.
The display on my phone reveals that it’s seven thirty. I’ve only had a few hours’ sleep, if that. I found it hard to settle once we got back here.
Sitting up in bed, I crane my neck over the low safety rail to see Sonny down in his kitchen. He’s wearing low-slung grey tracksuit pants and is shirtless, his lean back rippling with a surprising number of muscles as he works his coffee machine like a professional barista.
I flop backwards on the bed and stare up at the ceiling, feeling restless.
I can’t even get this stupid crush out of my system by sleeping with him because of this goddamn promise he’s made to himself. And I made a promise too, I remind myself.
I’ll have to rustle up some other distraction. Maybe he’ll do us both a favour and put me off him by being a complete knobhead while he’s here in Amsterdam. Here’s hoping.
‘Morning,’ I say as I traipse downstairs in pale pink pyjama bottoms and a white vest top. If he’s still wearing what he slept in, I can too.
‘Oh, hey,’ he says over his shoulder.
‘Aw, you’re wearing your glasses,’ I note. They really do suit him.
‘Yep.’ He looks amused, then apologetic. ‘Sorry, did I wake you?’
‘No, your sun did.’ I nod at the window.
‘It’s the only downside.’ He gives me a sweet smile.
His hair is squashed flat in several sections and there’s day-old stubble on his jaw. He looks adorably sleepy and unkempt.
Adorable? Sweet? What is wrong with me? This is not good.
‘Coffee?’ he asks.
‘Thanks.’ I jerk my head towards the bathroom and he nods, getting back to prepping the drinks.
‘Don’t,’ I whisper as I pass by the mirror. ‘Just don’t.’
When I return to the living room, Sonny is taking his sheets off the chaise longue and folding them up.
‘Do you want me to strip the bed?’ I offer.
‘No.’ He brushes me off with a frown, placing the bedding in a messy pile. ‘You know you’re welcome to stay here again tonight?’
‘Oh. Thanks.’ I’m touched. ‘Are you sure?’ It would be easier as Nina’s at work tomorrow anyway.
‘Of course I’m sure.’ He walks towards me and it takes a scary amount of effort to tug my eyes away from his exposed skin. The way those pants cling to his narrow hips is just . . . so . . .
He nods at the concrete island where my coffee is waiting.
I turn around and pick it up, trying to collect my thoughts as he goes upstairs. I track his journey to the chest of drawers doubling as a bedside table and watch as he pulls a white T-shirt out and slips it over his head.
Sighing, I take my coffee to the sofa and try to lose myself in the view out of the enormous window. The leafy green treetops are shining in the dazzling early morning light.
Sonny brings his coffee over and sits down beside me.
‘What are your plans—’ he starts, glancing across at me and freezing.
‘What is it?’
He doesn’t answer, placing his coffee cup down on the table and striding across the room to where his silver cases are sitting on the floor. He opens one and extracts a camera.
I watch with confusion as he hastily fixes a lens and comes towards me, his eyes focused on my face.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask with alarm as he falls to his knees at my feet and brings the camera up to his eye. ‘Wait! Sonny!’ I lift my hand to block the viewfinder and he lowers the camera, an imploring look on his face.
‘Hannah, please,’ he begs desperately. ‘Put your hand down.’
‘No!’ I feel a bit cross now. What does he think he’s doing?
‘Your eyes,’ he beseeches. ‘Please. I have to.’
I’ve never seen anything like it. I stare at him.
‘Please,’ he says again, making to lift the camera.
I very reluctantly let my hand fall to my lap and he clicks off a shot.
‘Look towards the window,’ he says. ‘Please.’
I don’t know what’s got into me, but I follow his direction, inwardly flinching as he clicks off a couple more shots.
He checks the images in his viewfinder and makes an adjustment, then takes a few more pictures, repeating the process of checking, adjusting and photographing.
A sense of urgency is radiating from him and he’s tense and full of purpose, but finally he relaxes and his limbs become looser as he sits back, scanning through the images on his display.
He looks up at me, dazed.
‘Well, that was weird,’ I say with a small laugh and his face breaks into a grin.
‘You want to see?’ he offers.
‘I don’t know. Do I?’
‘Yes.’
He stands up and sits down so close to me on the sofa that we may as well be squashed together on Archie and Matilda’s snuggler seat. We’re hip-to-hip, leg-to-leg, and the instant heat of him pressing against me is making me feel heady. I try to concentrate as I peer at the camera’s screen.
The shot is a close-up and the way he’s captured the sunlight on the planes of my face is incredible. My cheekbones seem sharper and my lips look fuller, but my eyes are the stars of the show. There’s a depth to them that I’ve never seen before: light filtering through pools of gold.
‘You’ve made me look beautiful,’ I murmur when I can find my voice.
‘You are beautiful,’ he replies with a frown, staring at me.
I am well and truly screwed.
The sound of a loud buzzer reverberating through the apartment makes us both jump. Sonny looks at the door and gets to his feet, placing the camera on the coffee table as he pads barefoot across the bleached parquet floor.
Still shaken, I watch him open the door to the most exquisite creature I have ever seen.
‘Sonny,’ she says breathlessly, practically hurling herself into his arms. ‘I heard you were back.’
I watch with a sick sort of dread as his arms snake around her.
She has a thick accent that could be French and she’s as tall as he is, but he’s very broad in comparison to her stick-thin frame.
She spies me over his shoulder and pulls away from him, her green cat-like eyes flaring.
‘You have company,’ she states accusatorially, glaring at him and then at me.
He takes a small step away from her and waves h
is hand towards me. ‘This is Hannah, a friend from the UK.’
‘A friend?’ She walks past him into the apartment, tossing her long chestnut hair.
I see him press his lips together with what appears to be mild annoyance as he closes the door behind her, but then I’m distracted by her making a beeline for me. I stand up, feeling horribly underdressed. Just before she reaches me, she clocks the sheets piled up at one end of the chaise longue, and her ensuing smile is brilliant.
‘Katya,’ she says, kissing my cheeks, one after the other.
Katya? Oh, this is getting better and better. Freaking Katya? Could she have a sexier-sounding name?
‘Nice to meet you,’ I say.
‘How long are you here for?’ she asks, her question directed at either or both of us.
‘We leave tomorrow night,’ Sonny replies.
‘Oh.’ She pouts prettily. ‘Why so short a visit?’
‘Do you want a coffee?’ he asks instead of answering her.
‘An espresso,’ she replies, sashaying after him into the kitchen.
He looks over his shoulder at me and I point at the bedroom followed by the bathroom, indicating that I plan to get dressed. He nods at me, understanding.
When I come out of the bathroom, wearing a long skirt and an olive-green off-the-shoulder top, Sonny is over by his desk, doing something to his camera.
‘Has Katya gone?’ I ask with surprise.
‘Yep,’ he replies shortly.
‘One of those no-strings-attached things?’ I raise my eyebrow.
He glances at me and lets out a wry snort before returning his attention to his camera.
I was already feeling nauseous, but his non-answer makes me feel even worse. ‘You’re only human,’ I force myself to add in the same indifferent tone.
‘I’d rather spend a minute in your company than an hour in hers,’ he replies in a low voice.
His words floor me.
He’s too consumed by what he’s doing to notice.
I steel myself.
‘Listen, Sonny, thanks for the offer of staying here tonight, but I’m going to head to Nina’s.’
It was a decision I came to in the bathroom.
‘When are you leaving?’ He carefully places his camera on the desk.
I can’t tell if he’s put out or not.