Beautiful Mess by Morgan Lucy V. & Desir Christa & Wright Kenny

Author:Morgan, Lucy V. & Desir, Christa & Wright, Kenny [Morgan, Lucy V.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-11-22T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Confession time: yes, I was a bad-ass at the park. I was the video game warrior of Uncomfortable Truths. I also spent the afternoon sobbing over the sugar craft swans I was making, and it was a relief when five o’clock rolled around so I could sort myself out with a cold shower.

Three hours later, I was on Linc’s doorstep with an inappropriate amount of cleavage on show, and I wasn’t entirely sure why.

What made me more nervous? The aftershock of adrenaline still curdling in my veins, or the fact that I was about to see Linc’s mythical flat?

I rang the doorbell. It was a very normal doorbell, too--no Phantom of the Opera, no Super Mario theme. Hmm.

“Me answering the door to you, huh,” he said, half-smiling. “Weird role reversal.”

I propped myself up on one arm against the frame. “I should probably linger here for a minute and wiggle my eyebrows then, yeah?”

“Or you could give me the brownies and I’ll see you on Monday.”

“That’s just mean.”

He stood aside, gesturing, and I crossed the threshold into…drum roll…Linc’s flat!

I heard Olly’s voice, then: I want regular updates by phone. Wait, no--a video tour. I bet he’s got a blow up doll. Or a blow up sheep. Or a real sheep, a dead one--

“Are you coming in, or what?” said Linc.

“Of course.” I draped my coat over the wire stand, which looked suspiciously civilized, and followed him into the sitting room. I was all prepared to start my spoof voice over, but--

“Candles,” I croaked.

He shrugged in the milky light. “That’s what they’re called, yeah.”

There must have been a hundred tea lights dotted about the little room, across the fireplace, along the bookshelves, on the coffee table. Four surrounded an antique-style globe.

“Just to confirm,” I said, “you don’t always have the place tarted up like this?”

He laughed. “Believe it or not, it generally is this tidy. The candles, though, those are for you.”

“Like, a joke?”

“No.”

I put the brownies down on the coffee table and wondered whether it was safe to look at him yet. The idea felt dangerous, so I talked to the carpet instead. “Anyone would think that you were trying to seduce me, Linc.”

“I think…I think maybe I am.” He nudged my shoulder gently. “Is that okay? If it’s not--”

“Craig came to see me today. At work. We talked about a lot of stuff.”

He gulped. “Oh.”

“I kind of got a new perspective on things.”

“Oh God. I can put the lights on, if this is as inappropriate as it seems.”

“No!” I lunged at him before he could flip the switch and landed against his chest with a dull thud. “That’s not--”

“You didn’t make up with him?”

“Gosh. No.” I swiped my cheek with the back of my hand. “It’s just, if you put the light on, you’ll see.”

“Bails. You retard.” He wrapped his arms round me then and there was nothing experimental about it, not like his words. My hands slid up to his shoulders in the slow mash. “Why’re you crying?”

“’Cause you’re being so nice to me.

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