The Truce (London Suits 1)

Before he could react to my presence, I barrelled into him, wrapping my arms around his muscular body. He stiffened and his hands came up to push me away.

“Payne? What the actual—”

“Shush.” My voice came out muffled where my face was pressed into his chest. “Just let me do this.”

He sighed and dropped his arms to his sides but made no move to hug me back. That was okay; I could work with it.

I kicked a foot behind me, aiming for the still-open door. I completely missed.

“Payne.” His voice was hoarse, cracked. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to shut the door.”

“Well, you missed it,” he informed me.

“I gathered that.”

I drew back from him and stared into his eyes. His walls had come up, his expression shuttered. I couldn’t forget the haunted look in his eyes when he’d opened the door, though.

I allowed my gaze to roam over his face. His eyes, normally so bright and vibrant, were a dull, muted green, and the dark circles under them were so pronounced I sucked in a shocked breath.

Right. He needed a friend, and for lack of other choice, it was going to be me.

“Sit,” I told him commandingly, giving him a little push towards the large grey sofa behind him. Looking a little dazed, he complied, dropping down and placing his head in his hands.

I closed the door and kicked my shoes off, not wanting to dent his wooden floors with my spiked heels. Crossing the room, I sank onto the sofa next to him and gently placed my hand on his back. He stiffened again but didn’t move. I rubbed circles on his back, stroking the soft material of his worn navy blue T-shirt and feeling his tense muscles bunch under my hand. This was uncharted waters for me, for both of us, so I went on instinct, knowing that he needed comfort and the knowledge that someone was there for him.

I leaned against his shoulder, my arm sliding around him in a tentative, slightly awkward hug.

“Luke.” I spoke softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” came the croaked reply from behind his hands. That one word conveyed so much sadness, I couldn’t bear it. I slid off the sofa and knelt at his feet, covering his hands with my own. I gently pried them away from his face, and he let me, his whole body sagging. He raised his head, and his hopeless gaze collided with mine. His lower lip trembled, and I could see he was seconds away from losing it. He squeezed his eyes shut, but not before I saw the tears fill them.

“Luke.” I scrambled upwards, hardly aware of what I was doing but needing to be close to him. I flung myself into his lap, squeezing my arms around him as tightly as I could. His whole body shuddered. His arms came around me, and he buried his face in my neck.

I rubbed up and down his back and let my hand slide up his neck and into his soft hair. I stroked through the thick strands, massaging his scalp, my only focus on providing whatever comfort I could. He didn’t let go of me, not even for a second.

We stayed that way for a long, long time.

The sky gradually da

rkened outside, and the gloom penetrated the flat. I raised my head and looked around, finally becoming aware of my surroundings and realising that I was in Luke’s lap, clinging to him like a spider monkey.

I scrambled off him, awkwardness filling me.

“Uh, I—”

“Don’t go.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me back. “Stay. Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

His hoarse admission sent waves of emotion through me all over again.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Do I—should I—” I took a deep breath to get my racing thoughts under control. “Let me start that again. Do you want a drink, or some food, or something?”

Luke shrugged, dropping my hand. I eyed him in concern. “Luke, when was the last time you ate?” I asked gently. He shrugged again, leaning back against the back of the sofa and closing his eyes in exhaustion.

I crossed the apartment and snagged my phone from my bag, then scrolled to my favourite takeaway app. Not knowing Luke’s preference and unwilling to disturb him, I chose three large pizzas—meat, vegetarian, and a Margherita pizza to cover all bases. That done, I made my way to the kitchen area and opened random cupboards until I located glasses. I filled two with tap water and placed them on the low table next to the sofa. The apartment was darkening, and Luke still hadn’t opened his eyes, so I flicked on a lamp that stood in the corner of the room. It cast a dim, warm glow around, highlighting the exposed red-brick walls, and I sighed appreciatively, momentarily distracted by my surroundings.

My phone buzzed in my hand, and I unlocked the screen to see a message from Avery.