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Alex laughed. “Did you just make those up?”
“No! They’re extreme sports.”
“I thought you said you had a fear of heights?”
“Actually, it’s a fear of falling, but extreme sports have made that almost disappear. You have to be so in the moment, there’s no room to be scared. I felt amazing after my first rock climb. I felt like I could do anything.”
“Ah, so you’re scared of nothing and cocky about everything.”
“Yes and…yes.” He laughed and started walking again. “But my free time isn’t all fun and games. I’ve done my share of honest grafting, too.”
Alex rolled her eyes.
“I have! Volunteering…building hospitals in Nepal and schools in Senegal. I may come from old money and privilege, but that doesn’t define me—just like being blonde, blue-eyed, and from Florida doesn’t define you, Sunshine.”
“Touché.” Alex nodded as they approached a cluster of tables selling secondhand books underneath Waterloo Bridge.
“We’re not that different, you and me…”
“You barely know me.” Alex stopped at a table filled with hardcover books. A busker, strumming a guitar nearby, sang a tune that sounded familiar. She prided herself on recognizing old songs, but this one…
“You use words to build worlds. I use my hands…although nowadays I’m more hands off than on.” Tarquin slipped a finger along a row of book spines. “See anything you like?”
Tarquin’s question hung in the air, unanswered; Alex’s mind was elsewhere. I hate it when I can’t ID an earworm! I know this…what IS it?
Tarquin touched her arm. “Alex? Anything you want?”
“Oh!” She jolted to attention, scanning the tables. Her eyes stalled on a book with giant green letters on its spine—MARK.
She caught her breath as his name unlocked the mystery tune: “Here, There and Everywhere” by the Beatles. Mark used to play his dad’s old Beatles records all the time, and we’d dance and sing around the flat…
“Hey, Earth to Alex…”
She looked at Tarquin. “No…thanks.”
He held up a copy of Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are. “Day made! Love this book.” He broke into a wide grin.
Damn.Never mind Jedi mind tricks…those dimples—hypnotizing. His smile was self-assured, used to getting its own way—sexy, but in a completely different way than Mark’s. She pulled her eyes away while simultaneously grabbing the nearest book: The Kama Sutra. A blush warmed her cheeks.
“Blimey. Steady on, girl!” He laughed and walked to the vendor, leaving Alex in a sweaty haze of embarrassment.
What am I doing? Comparing a guy I barely know to Mark? And that sex book? Nice one, Lex.
When Tarquin returned, he pointed to the Sir Laurence Olivier statue outside the National. “He named one of his sons Tarquin. Larry had good taste.”
“So, you are a theatre fan?”
“Uh, no. I’m just a keeper of banal facts about my name.”
“But you took me to that play?”
“Yeah, because Harry said it would cheer you up.” He nodded towards Kitchen, the National’s café. “Feeling peckish?”
Alex’s heart dipped. The National was her place—and Mark’s. She didn’t want to share it with someone who didn’t appreciate it. “No. Let’s keep going…”
“As you wish.”
They stopped in nearby Gabriel’s Wharf, an open-air shopping enclave, for fries and ice cream, passed by the Tate Modern, Shakespeare’s Globe, and Southwark Cathedral. With each step, Alex felt a little more at ease, a little less judgmental of Harry’s best friend. He was funny and sharp, definitely less braggy. He asked questions—and listened to Alex’s answers—about her writing hopes.
