Home > This Man (This Man #1)(141)

This Man (This Man #1)(141)
Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas

‘Yes, I’ll put her on. It was lovely to talk to you.’

He hands me the phone, and I seize it from his hand with a vicious swipe. ‘Mum?’

‘Ava, who was that?’ My Mum sounds as mystified as I expected her to be. I’m supposed to be young, free and single in London, and now strange men are answering my phone. I narrow my eyes on Jesse, who’s looking rather proud of himself.

‘He’s just a friend, Mum. What’s up?’

Jesse clutches at his heart, pulling a wounded soldier impersonation, but his annoyed facial expression doesn’t match his playful act – not in the slightest. I hear my Mother hum in disapproval. I can’t believe he’s just done that, the arrogant arse. And with everything else I have to poke up with, now I have the added bonus of my mother whittling that I’m jumping into another relationship too soon.

‘Matt called me.’ she states flatly.

I turn away from Jesse to try and hide my wide eyed look. Why has Matt called my mother? Shit! I can’t talk about this now, not in front of Jesse. ‘Mum, can I call you back? I’m in Camden, it’s loud.’ My shoulders hit my earlobes at the feel of Jesse’s eyes chiseling away at my back.

‘Yes, I just wanted you to know. He was all friendly, it doesn’t sit well.’ She sounds furious.

‘Okay, I’ll call you later.’

‘Fine, and remember, carefree fun.’ She adds the last bit in a blatant reminder of my status – whatever that is.

I turn back to Jesse, finding the expression I knew I would: very unhappy. ‘Why did you do that?’ I yell.

‘He’s just a friend? Do you often let friends f**k your brain out?’

My shoulders sag in defeat. The man’s constant change in reference to our relationship is burning my brain. He f**ks me; he cares for me; he controls me… ‘Is it your mission objective to make my life as difficult as possible?’

His eyes soften. ‘No,’ he says quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’

Good God, do we have a breakthrough? Has he just apologised for being an arse? I’m more stunned now than when he hijacked my phone and greeted my mother like she was an old friend. He said himself he doesn’t offer apologies very often, but considering he doesn’t like apologising, he’s doing a lot of crazy stuff that warrants one.

‘Forget about it.’ I sigh, shoving my phone in my bag. I start walking down the street, towards the canal. His arm is wrapped around my shoulder within seconds. My poor mother is probably giving my Dad ear ache right at this very moment. I know I’ll be hit with twenty questions later. And as for Matt…well, I know his game. He’s trying to butter up the parents, the slimy little worm. He’ll be sorely disappointed. My parents openly dislike him now, as appose to putting up with him for my sake.

We spend the rest of the morning, and well into the afternoon, wandering around Camden. I love it here – the diversity is the best London has to offer. I could lose myself for hours in the cobbled back streets of the markets and stables. Jesse humours me while I poke about on the stalls, keeping close and constantly touching me. I’m so glad I apologised.

We walk through the food quarter, and I can’t take the heat anymore. It’s not particularly hot, but with all the tourists and crowds, I’m feeling stifled. I remove my bag from across my body, taking my cardigan off to wrap it around my waist.

‘Ava, your dress is missing a huge chunk!’

I turn around on a smile, finding him gaping at the cut out section of my dress. What’s he going to do? Undress me and cut it up?

‘No, it’s the design.’ I inform him, tying my cardigan around my waist and replacing my bag over my body. He turns me around, pulling my cardigan further up my body in an attempt to conceal the revealed flesh. ‘Will you stop?’ I laugh, wriggling free.

‘Do you do this on purpose?’ he snaps, arranging his big palm in the centre of my back.

‘If you want full length skirts and polo neck jumpers, then I suggest you find someone your own age.’ I mutter as he starts guiding me through the crowds with his hand firmly in place. I earn myself a dig in the ribs for my cheek. He’ll have me in a Burka next.

‘How old do you think I am?’ he asks incredulously.

‘Well, I don’t know, do I?’ I toss back at him. ‘Do you want to relieve me of my wondering?’

He scoffs. ‘No.’

‘No, I didn’t think so.’ I mutter. Something catches my attention. I quickly detour to a stall full of scented candles and all things hippy. I hear Jesse cursing behind me, barging through the crowds to keep up with me.

I make it to the stool, and I’m greeted by a new age type, with wild dreadlocks and plenty of piercings.

‘Hi.’ I smile, reaching up to grab the cloth bag from the shelf.

‘Afternoon,’ he says. ‘Do you want some help with that?’ He joins me by the shelf, helping me retrieve the cloth bag.

‘Thanks.’ I feel Jesse’s warm palm on me again as I open the cloth bag and pull out the contents.

‘What’s that?’ Jesse asks, looking over my shoulder.

‘These,’ I shake them out, ‘are Thai fisherman pants,’

‘I think you need a smaller size.’ He frowns, running his eyes across the huge piece of black material that I’m holding up.

‘They’re one size.’

He laughs. ‘Ava, you could get ten of you in them.’

‘You wrap them around. One size fits all.’ I’ve been meaning to replace my worn ones for months.

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