Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
I tucked my hair behind my ear as I stepped out into the domestic arrivals area. William was right there, and he grinned when our eyes met. Warmth flooded my cheeks.
Good Lord.
I’d forgotten how handsome he was, even all wrapped up like we were at the North Pole.
He adjusted his scarf around his neck, then bent to kiss my cheek in a greeting. “Hi.”
Oh, God, I was blushing. I was blushing so hard. This was ridiculous.
“Hi,” I replied, dipping my chin. “You’re here early.”
“My sister was freaking out about napkins, so it was a good time to leave,” he said slowly, his lips curving to one side. “You’re also early.”
“Yeah, we left on time and had the wind behind us.” I shrugged, adjusting my grip on the handle. “Is there anywhere to get a drink here? I could do with a coffee. I’m tired.”
“Of course. Do you need to eat, too?”
“No, I got some food at Heathrow before I got on the plane. I just woke up really early.” I smiled.
“Come on. There’s coffee just around the corner.” William took my suitcase from me, shooting me a look when I was about to tell him it was fine.
Right.
He had manners.
The ‘coffee just around the corner’ was just that, and we got in line for the small corner area that passed as a coffee shop. It smelt amazing compared to the weak stuff on the plane, and I was practically drooling at the mere scent of it.
I was exhausted. Tired was a true understatement. It’d been a while since I’d had to go through the rigamarole of an airport and flying on a plane, and I’d forgotten just how tiring the whole process was.
“How was your flight?” William asked.
I yawned, quickly covering my mouth with my hand. “Oh, sorry.”
He fought a smile.
“It was… uneventful.”
“As all good flights should be,” he replied without missing a beat. “There are far too many types of coffee on this menu.”
I was about to joke about him being an old man in a young man’s body, but I glanced at the menu just to make sure, and holy crap.
He was right.
It was like Starbucks but… high. On psychedelics.
“Maybe just a cup of tea, then,” I mused.
Will laughed. “You can nap on the way, if you want. It’s about ninety minutes to two hours depending on the roads.”
“Two hours? Where the hell do your grandparents live? The Shetland Islands?”
“No, but they’re very north. The roads are also pretty bad, so I have to drive a little slower than normal.”
“Oh. Right. That makes sense.”
We got to the front of the line and both ordered, and I tapped my card against the machine before he had a chance.
“Ah-ha!” I chuckled to myself, tucking it back into my purse triumphantly.
The barista grimaced. “I’m sorry, it’s asking for your PIN.”
I sighed. Goddamn it.
I slipped it back out, but Will beat me to it by waving his card, and she quickly reset the payment for him to do exactly what I’d just done.
His went through.
“Ah-ha,” he said, taunting me with a playful grin.
“Shut up,” I muttered.
The barista couldn’t hide her amusement. “Have you used it a few times?”
I nodded sadly. “Three times this morning. I knew they’d want the security PIN soon, but you know.”
“You’re lucky,” she said, sliding our cups across to us with a smile. “My boyfriend wouldn’t buy me a marshmallow, never mind a coffee.”
We took the cups, and I said, “Oh he’s not—”
“Thanks!” William said, interrupting me. He nudged me away from the counter and towards the door, wheeling my suitcase along, and I frowned up at him.
“What was that?” I grumbled. “I was only going to tell her you aren’t my boyfriend.”
“I know that, but we have our drinks. What’s the point in arguing with a barista in Inverness airport who you’ll never see again?”
I huffed out a sigh. “Fine. I suppose you have a point. Although I sincerely hope this isn’t setting the tone for the rest of weekend. I have no interest in pretending to be your girlfriend.”
“You won’t have to, don’t worry. Nobody has asked if you’re my girlfriend.”
“Have you told them I’m not?”
William stopped in front of a large Range Rover with a normal plate—not a rental—and glanced at me. “Nobody has asked.”
I stared at him. “That wasn’t my question. Have you explicitly said that I’m your friend and not your girlfriend?”
He pressed a button on a key fob, and the car beeped. The lights blinked on, flooding the underground car park with orange light. “I haven’t told anyone that you are my girlfriend.”
“I’m starting to think I’ve made a catastrophic mistake,” I said, pushing my carry-on case towards him. “Firstly, in agreeing to this hairbrained scheme. Secondly, for getting coffee instead of vodka.”
He laughed, hauling the cases into the boot of the car. He slammed the boot door down and walked to the passenger side, opening my door for me. “I promise it won’t be nearly as bad as you think.”