“Westminster Abbey? Yes. Do you want to go inside?”
I rubbed my hands together and tried to conceal how much I wanted to go. “Well, only if you don’t mind.”
He rolled his eyes at me and pulled my hand. “C’mon.”
Inside the abbey were vaulted ceilings and high arches with so much detail carved into the stone that I could stare at them for hours. Every surface was covered with marble busts and memorials. Even the floor had them. I squealed in delight when I recognized an author name from my English classes.
“Look—Charles Dickens!”
Luke leaned over and nodded. “Cool,” he said in a tone of voice that suggested boredom instead of fascination. Uniquely decorated chapels tucked into the corners of the abbey were dedicated to different members of royalty.
“You don’t like this stuff, do you?”
He shrugged as we walked around the choir. “It’s all right. I’ve seen it all before—many times on school trips. I’m more of a thrill seeker. I like hang-gliding, parasailing, white-water rafting, steeplechase—that sort of thing.”
I never did any of those things. “What if we went to a soccer match?”
Luke’s face lit up. “Now, you’re talking. Do you like the sport?”
I used to spend my summers with Natalie on the same recreational soccer team. Her parents paid for the annual fee because there was no way in hell my foster parents would have. “I used to play a lot when I was younger. I miss it.”
“Well, we should definitely see a match, then. I’ll ask my friend if he would like to join us.” He had already opened his phone and was searching.
Wow. I guess we have one thing in common. I mentally praised myself for bringing it up.
I watched as his fingers moved rapidly over his smartphone.
“There’s a match today at Boleyn Ground. It’s West Ham versus Tottenham Hotspur. Oh my God, we have to see it.”
“Can you get tickets?”
He looked at me and smiled as if I had made a joke.
Well, that answers that.
As we walked out of Westminster Abbey, Luke drummed his fingers over his smartphone. “I have meetings this afternoon, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to make it. I’ll leave early if I have to. I haven’t been to a football match in ages.”
Luke rubbed his hands together with a manic grin on his face. It was nice to see a gleam of excitement in his eyes instead of his mask of polite amusement. I didn’t argue as Luke called a cab to take him to work, giving the driver explicit directions to take me wherever I wanted.
“The game starts at three o’clock. Best to be there at two-thirty. I’ll call and send a car wherever you are.”
He leaned across the seats and his lips brushed my cheek. When he pulled away, his smile was full of so much warmth that my breath caught in my throat.
“Have a good day, Jessica.”
Luke slid out of the car and gave me a small wave through the window. As soon as he had left the car, I felt the absence of him like a hole in my stomach. I was still looking out the window when the driver cleared his throat. He was staring at me through the rear-view mirror.
“Uh—can you take me to the Tower of London?”
* * *
Breathless, I stepped out of the cab and searched the throng of people for Luke. Hundreds of people wearing the West Ham colors of deep red-purple and blue stood in several security lines outside the stadium. The driver had assured me that Luke would be nearby. At last, I looked through a group of red and blue clad men with rosettes attached to their shirts and recognized his profile. Luke’s dark hard tilted back with laughter. A good-looking man in his twenties stood beside him, his shoulders bent forward and shaking with mirth.
This must be the friend who he was talking about. As if he had heard my thoughts, the man’s eyes rested on me and he gave me a slight nod. Luke turned on the spot and a brilliant smile lit his handsome face. I hitched a smile on my face and walked towards him.
“There you are, darling.”
Darling? I laughed despite myself as Luke swept me in his arms and his mouth sealed my lips in a brief but heated kiss. For a moment, it made me feel like he actually missed me. He pulled away and slid his arm over my shoulders. Oh right, he’s acting again. I gathered up my resolve and prepared myself to talk in a high-pitched voice that most girls seemed to have when reunited with their boyfriends.
“Did you enjoy the tower?” he asked as he brought me closer to his friend.
“Yes, it was pretty good,” I said flatly. In truth, I was a bit disappointed. The tower was stripped bare of its original furnishings and the replacements didn’t look very authentic. It was a bit like visiting Disneyland, but I had a nice walk along London Bridge.
“Jessica, this is my friend Brandon I was talking to you about. Brandon this is my girlfriend, Jessica.”
Brandon made a muddled first impression. Like Luke, the trappings of great wealth weren’t lost on him: the Prada glasses, the gleaming watch on his wrist, his Italian leather shoes. He wasn’t nearly as handsome or poised, but he had an air of polished dignity that intimidated me. His eyes met mine in a cool, unflinching gaze. From the way he looked at me, it was almost as if he didn’t like me. No, it wasn’t that. Maybe it was a lack of trust.
“It’s a pleasure.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Are you a big football fan?”
I gave him a small shrug. “A little bit. I used to play when I was younger.” I retreated into Luke’s comforting embrace and smiled at Brandon. “You can’t go to England without seeing a football match, right?”
He nodded solemnly, his eyes still refusing to let go of me. “Too right,” he said in a thick British accent. Glancing at his watch, he made a comical sound. “Ah! Kick off is in ten minutes. Let’s get to our seats.”
I could feel Luke’s excitement through my body as he stood behind me in the line, his hands ever so slightly moving up the curve of my hips. It was so much more electrifying than a kiss. He rubbed into my flesh in small, hard circles. The paparazzi stood nearby, clicking away at us as I turned around in his arms to lay my head over his chest. I didn’t do it because I wanted to give them a show; I wanted to quiet the desire stirring in my core.
As we walked through security and made our way through the stadium buzzing from thousands of horns, it was quickly apparent that Luke arranged for front row seats. A sprinkling of navy-blue Tottenham supporters were scattered among the hundreds of West Ham rosettes, flags, and checkered banners. I reeled back from the fevered energy flowing from the West Ham fans, taken aback by their intense, almost violent screaming. After a few minutes, the screaming stopped and I felt their cheers soaring through me as we walked to the seats and looked across the green field.