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“Good,” I tell him, a smile pulling at my lips when I think of it. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”
Danii is signing for my delivery when I arrive. She smiles as I get off my bike and hands the delivery guy his clipboard. “Nice of you to join us,” she says, glancing at her watch, “at ten a.m.”
“I got caught up.”
“In someone’s sheets?” she teases.
I smirk, pulling out the keys and opening the shutters. “You asking me something there, darlin’?” It’s the second time she’s inadvertently asked if I have a woman. When I glance back at her, she’s blushing. “Cos you just gotta ask me outright. I don’t do this flirting shit.”
“Flirting?” she repeats innocently. “I wasn’t flirting.”
I unlock the door and push it open. She steps inside and watches as I begin to carry the boxes in, dumping them on the bar. “This place is just . . . stunning.”
“You were asking me a question,” I remind her.
“Was I?” She slides onto a barstool, and I place another box on the bar and send a smirk her way. It always works, and she almost melts as she admits, “I was. “Are you single?”
I laugh. “Now, why do you wanna know that?”
She rolls her eyes. “Cut the crap. We’ve been doing the dance for weeks now and you know it. I’m getting to the point because you’re clearly not going to.”
“And what point’s that?” I step closer, and she inhales sharply as our legs brush.
“Do you want to go out for a drink sometime?”
“Yes.”
Relief passes over her face. “Great. When?”
“Now,” I tell her, reaching for a bottle of whiskey and holding it up.
She laughs, throwing her head back slightly to expose her neck, and I resist the urge to kiss her delicate skin. “I have a business to run.”
“I forgot about that,” I murmur, closing the gap between us and running my nose along her temple, inhaling her fresh scent. “So, when?”
She visibly swallows. “Tonight?”
“Tonight,” I confirm, taking a step back. She releases a long breath, and I wink, heading out to grab the next box.
LUNA
I park Ivy’s pushchair in the hall of my mother’s flat and close the front door. It’s cold, but then again, it’s always cold. She refuses to top up the meter so she can heat the place. “Mum?” I call out.
I make sure the blanket is covering Ivy before heading into the living room. It’s the same layout as my flat, only she hasn’t cleaned it in a long time. There are burn marks in the old carpet that has been down since I was little, and I dread to think when she last ran a vacuum over the thing.
I find her on the couch, sprawled out and naked. Her body is covered in bruises too—much like mine—but I choose to push that thought away as I grab a dirty blanket from the table and place it over her. “Mum,” I say, gently giving her a nudge. “Mum, it’s lunchtime, wake up.”
I remember the times I’d come home from school at lunchtime because I didn’t have money to buy dinners and she was too proud to sign up for the free school meals option because she didn’t want the teachers to look down their noses at us. She’d often be passed out like this, and sometimes there’d be a man with her, sometimes more than one. I shudder at the memories.
“Huh?” she mumbles, stirring.
“It’s me, Luna. Are you hungry? I made some soup,” I tell her, going back into the hallway to retrieve the bag containing homemade potato soup and fresh bread.
“Fuck off, Luna,” she slurs, kicking the blanket from her body.
“You have to eat something,” I remind her. “You’ll end up back in hospital with pneumonia.” She’s spent more and more time there lately, and I often wonder if she does it to get a break from Nate.
“Maybe next time I’ll die,” she spits, sitting up and grabbing her pack of cigarettes.
