Right Number, Wrong Girl

“Oh, for God’s sake.” He wedged himself further between the door and the wall. “Must you squish me entirely before you realise I’m not going away?”

“I don’t know. Seems like a win for me. If I squish you, I won’t have to listen to you.”

“You’ll attempt to murder me just so you don’t have to talk to me?”

“Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but you’re the one shoving yourself in my doorway, are you not? I think murdering intruders is a perfectly valid thing to do.”

“Intruder is a strong word.”

“Have I invited you in?”

“No.”

“Have I asked you to leave?”

“Too many times.”

“Then you, Lord Hugo, are an intruder. So kindly fuck off.”

He gripped the edge of the door, fighting a smile. “Sophie. I just want to talk to you about what happened last night.”

Jesus Christ, this man was relentless.

Was it a familial trait?

“I’ve already dealt with one impossible member of your family today. I don’t want to make it two.”

“Only one?” he asked, eyebrows raising. “Then you’ve had a good day. Also, I take offense to you describing me as impossible but not my brother.”

“Your brother is far more tolerable than you are.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – SOPHIE

Lies & Other Things I Tell Myself (And Hugo)

“I disagree.” He snorted. “Sophie, listen to me. It’s all right. I know it didn’t mean anything because you’d had a bit too much wine. It’s one of those things, and you don’t need to avoid me.”

“Oh, bloody hell. Come in before you tell the entire village.” I begrudgingly let go of the door and walked inside, folding my arms across my chest.

“God. That door hurts.” Hugo rubbed his chest, following me into the kitchen.

“You’re the one who stood there,” I shot back. “I am only going to have this conversation with you once, so listen up and listen good.”

He held his hands up.

“It meant nothing,” I said firmly, meeting his eyes. “It was nothing but a drunken mistake done in the heat of the moment. I was embarrassed when it happened, but I’m over it, and I’d like for you to give it a rest now.”

Hugo nodded slowly. “Understood.”

“As long as that’s clear.”

“Crystal clear.”

“Good.” I swallowed. “And, for the record, I do not and will not harbour any desire to kiss you.”

“Brilliant,” Hugo said, nodding. “I have absolutely no desire to kiss you, either. As long as we’re clear on that.”

“We are. Crystal.” I shifted uncomfortably to lean against the wall. “Good.”