Stuck with You: A fun, feisty romance by Anna Premoli

Author:Anna Premoli [Premoli, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781788541862
Publisher: Head of Zeus
Published: 2017-10-31T18:30:00+00:00

*

Seb rings my doorbell at nine o’clock sharp as if he had been standing outside the front door waiting for the exact time. And given what I know of him, I wouldn’t exclude the possibility a priori.

He arrives wearing a pair of black jeans and his motorcycle jacket with a helmet under his arm. I take him to my room and point him to my sad laptop, sitting inert on the desk. I expect him to get down to work straight away, but he stops after taking the first step and stands looking in astonishment at my room.

“Wow, it’s all pink in here,” he laughs. “Would pink be your favourite colour, by any chance?”

“It isn’t, actually. It’s my mother’s.” I know perfectly well how pathetic that sounds and I hate admitting it.

“Ah,” he comments, without rubbing it in. I am very grateful. Perhaps, I should have covered my door with skull-and-crossbones and warning signs like his before my mother and her decorator had time to make every inch of the place pink, but in my defence I can only say that at that time I was under her thumb even more than I am now.

To hide at least part of all this pink I’ve covered the walls with various types of posters. One immediately catches Seb’s attention: David Gandy wearing a swimsuit in an advert for a famous male cologne from a few years ago. I borrowed it from my sister. Why the hell didn’t I take it off the wall before letting him in?

Easy: my mother would have jumped up and down in joy, and as my posters are among the few tools I possess for torturing her, I really don’t want to lose them.

“Ahem.” Sounding slightly embarrassed, he clears his throat.

“Yes, ignore that. Those pecs and six pack are probably photoshopped anyway…”

“Do you reckon?” he teases me with half a smile while he takes off his jacket.

Being at this point accustomed to his t-shirts, I crane my neck, curious to read the sentence of the day: Any fool can use a computer. Many do.

Although I’m absolutely sure the sentence is aimed at me, I burst out laughing. Not taking yourself too seriously is a talent that doesn’t get the respect it deserves.

“Just out of curiosity, how many of these t-shirts do you have?” I ask him, taking his jacket and putting it on my bed – a pastel pink cloud which would give Sleeping Beauty nightmares.

“Quite a few. It’s become a bit of a tradition, because no one ever knows what to give me as a present for my birthday, and – to my family’s delight – millions of these t-shirts have been churned out over the years. I’m pretty well set up for the next decade or so.”

“Well, they could even try giving you something different every now and then…”

“Oh, but I’m really very fussy,” he admits.

“Ah, really? I’d never have guessed.”

He shakes his head and gets to work. “So, this is the poor computer that has been suffering your ill-treatment for years, is it?” he asks, as he sits down at my desk.

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