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“Come on,” Sky said, “the pizza joint down the street does Coke and a large slice, two for a tenner, eat in, it’s good too.”
“Okay,” Rory said, surprised. “We could go to proper pizza place.”
“I go to this place all the time. It’s good, trust me.” She elbowed him in the ribs and urged him along the street.
He caught her perfume, a musky number that made him think about sex. “Was that your boyfriend?”
She paused, overlong. “Jamie, yeah. He lives next door. That’s how we met. Why, you jealous?”
“No.” Yes. He shook his head. “I’d have put money on him being gay, like maybe he’s your gay BFF neighbor.”
Annoyance flashed in her eyes. Her lips pursed and she shook her head. “What on earth made you think he’s gay?”
“He kissed you like a gay friend.”
“How would you know what a gay man kisses like?” She fixed him with an accusing stare.
“I don’t. But I know I wouldn’t kiss you the way he did. I’d make it way more interesting.”
They’d reached the door of the take out joint. She had her hand on the door handle but stalled and stared at him. She remembered the kisses too. She looked as if she were about to say something, then changed her mind and gave him a brief smile before entering the eatery.
Rory congratulated himself. He resisted winding her up about it.
She led him to a bo
oth in the window. He’d have chosen somewhere less obvious but he let her decide.
“Pepperoni slice and a Coke?”
He nodded.
She called their order out to a guy standing behind the counter. The guy acknowledged her with a wave. Moments later the pizza slices arrived on a thin marble slab. The Coke was served in its can.
She pulled a ten pound note out of her pocket.
Rory pushed it aside. “My treat, for helping me out.”
She smiled.
It was only then Rory realized she didn’t have a bag with her.
“So where’s my USB?”
“Safe.”
You won’t be if you hang on to it much longer.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your hands on it soon enough.” She tucked into the pizza hungrily.
He resisted the urge to bellow at her. It was annoying but she obviously had a plan. “Please don’t tell me all you eat is pizza?”
She shrugged. “It’s cheap and its close by. My apartment doesn’t have cooking facilities. Just a kettle. There’s only so many instant noodles a girl can eat.”
Why did that make him want to cook her a hearty meal, something nourishing? “How long have you been in London?”
“Five months.”
“You should’ve got in touch with me.”
