“I’d like that.” He kissed me deeply, rubbing his hands up and down my back before squeezing the top curve of my ass. “Don’t forget about me.”
“Never.” I kissed him and moved back. “Thank you, Alfie. For everything.”
“I could say the same to you, lass.” He winked and turned to walk toward his car.
I hesitated, my heart breaking at the sight of him walking away. It didn’t have to be like that, right? We could just simply be together. I turned and walked toward the airport, pausing only to glance back once.
He waved as he drove off, and I couldn’t help but hoping that it wasn’t really goodbye.
I honestly couldn’t handle even the thought of it.
I wasn’t a Brit, but I belonged to one.
Chapter Twenty-One
Alfie
The lights to Logan’s town house were a welcoming sight when the cab pulled up the curb in front of the front pathway. I let out a relieved breath just seeing it as I pulled out money to hand over to the driver. I hadn’t realized just how badly I needed a break from life.
The town house was on the outskirts of mainstream life. Certainly not the luxurious and ritzy part of the city, but it felt safe and serene compared to the hustle of the inner city. I loosened my tie as the driver of the cab helped pull out my bags from the trunk before exchanging a polite goodbye with me. I stood on the curb while listening to the quiet murmur of distant conversation in the warm evening air along with the click of sprinklers.
Late spring in the States felt warm compared to spring in Devon. Sweat gathered at the back of my neck as I gathered my bags to head up the pathway to the front porch and door. After knocking on the door, I took a step back to wait as footsteps from inside approached quickly. The door opened a moment later, and Logan clapped his hands.
“Yes! I was hoping you would hurry your old ass up.”
I laughed. “I could only go so fast, and if I’m old, then you’re ancient.”
He grinned happily at me before sweeping me up into a hearty embrace that I returned just as eagerly. It felt comforting to know that I still had one friend in my life who hadn’t changed into a complete stranger.
“Good to see you, mate,” Logan said, and let go of me to grab two of my bags on the front porch. “Come inside. I just ordered some takeout from a restaurant in the city that I think you’d enjoy.”
I followed Logan inside into the crammed hallway. Setting my bags down on the floor, I glanced around the small but impressive town home with hardwood floors and freshly painted walls.
“It looks good in here,” I said, taking in the nice furniture in the living room. “I’m glad this house worked out for you.”
“It’s nothing fancy,” Logan said. “I bought it on a foreclosure as I was telling you on the phone. It needed some fixing up. It still does in various areas, but it’s better than paying out the ass for one of those apartments in the city. Plus, the noise is insane down there. It doesn’t matter what time of night it is, there are people every-fucking-where.”
“No doubt. I rented one for a few months a couple of years ago. It made a dent in my bank account just to live there for three months.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “I don’t remember the noise, but I lived at the office during that time. Taking the company public was a great choice, but I still have nightmares about the amount of work I put into it.”
“I imagine, dude. I’m thinking that the rent down there made a dent in mine worse than yours. You got a little more to play with.” He gave me a cheeky grin.
“Perhaps.” I shrugged and returned the grin. Of all the people in the world, Logan was the one I could simply be myself in front of. My father had been cut from the same cloth: accepting, loving, and supportive. I was beyond grateful for Logan seeing that Dad was gone now.
Logan chuckled as he motioned for me to follow him into the kitchen at the back of the townhouse. It overlooked a small yard with a thriving garden planted along the fence line. “Come on, man. Take a load off.”
I leaned over the window sill and let my eyes run along the perfectly lined rows. “Are you growing weed again?”
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He snorted. “No, asshat. I’m growing vegetables. I decided cleaning up my diet was way better than getting high and trying to forget I was getting fat and still not hooked up with a good woman.”
My turn to laugh. “You’re not married because you choose not to be. You’re a great guy.” I accepted a tall beer when Logan offered one. I took a long sip, letting the cool barley and foam soothe my dry throat.
He wagged his eyebrows at me. “Are you hitting on me?”
“You wish.” I sat down at the table and took another sip of the lager. It was beyond delicious, exactly what I needed after my long day. “Tell me, mate. How many years has it been since we’ve seen each other?”
“A few years, man. Too long if you ask me,” Logan said, taking a sip of his own as well.