Page 101 of On Circus Lane

We snort at the same time. I look down at him, feeling excitement and heat run through me. Then I gesture to him and race to press the buzzer to open the building’s front door.

The next few minutes are spent pacing at my door wondering what’s taking him so fucking long. I’m just considering whether he’s been abducted by aliens when the knock comes. I stare at the door, feeling my heart hammer. I wipe damp hands down my jeans and throw the door open. At the sight of him, I lean heavily against the jamb.

He looks warm and rumpled and maybe a little drunk, but seeing him immediately fills me with excitement, heat, and peace. I shake my head.How can that be?

He watches me with dark eyes. Finally, he stirs. “I missed you.”

“So…” I stop and clear my throat. “So you said.”

He raises one eyebrow, his grey eyes twinkling. “And?”

The silence stretches between us, as thick as golden syrup and twice as sweet. “And I missed you too,” I say. His eyes flare, and I step back. “Do you want to come in?”

Those simple words don’t sum up what I’m actually saying.

Do you want to get to know me? Do you want to fall in love with me?

Then, in that spooky way he has of following my thoughts when others can’t, he smiles and says, “I’m not interested in just coming into your flat, Beethoven. What about your life?”

“Is that something you’d like?” I whisper, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my ears.

The coloured fairy lights reflect on his face, making him look magical. And he is, in fact, magical to me. “I think it really is,” he says solemnly.

“Not just for the festive season?” I check.

He shakes his head. “Neverjust for that.”

I eye him, and then raise one eyebrow. “You stuck mistletoe in your woolly hat.” I suppress a smile.

He grins and it’s wide and white and beautiful. “You can’t blame a boy for trying.”

“Whyareyou trying?” I say, still bewildered by this. “Why me, Tom? I’m intense and a little too preoccupied with academia. I’m difficult and not easy to know. I can also be forgetful and very crotchety.”

Something about what I just said seems to relax him. “Because you’re sweet as sugar. You’re fiercely loyal to the small group of people you consider to be important, and I want to be amongst that number so much. You guard that heart of yours like the crown jewels, but it’s right you do that, because it’s very precious. Because you make me laugh, you make me talk to you and tell you things I wouldn’t tell anyone else, and just waking up to see your face on the next pillow makes me happy. The first time I saw you, I knew you were different somehow. That’sbecause now I know you’re the one for me. I know it’s sudden, but eventually you’re going to see I’m right. We’re going to stay together, and I’m going to fall in love with you and stay that way forever.” He pauses and grimaces. “Tell me the truth. Was that a bit stalkery? I feel like it might have edged that way towards the end.”

“Maybe a teeny bit, but I happen tolikethat.” I stare at his earnest expression, and I feel my heart expand like I’m the Grinch in Whoville. Then I throw the door open fully. “Come inside then, Tom Wright.”

Epilogue

TOM

One Year Later

“Are you ready?” I call from the kitchen where I’m scoffing my way through the mince pies that Ivy made for us last week.

The answer comes from his study. “Nearly. I won’t be a minute.”

“You said that an hour ago,” I say affectionately. I don’t need to go into the room to know his messy, dark head will be bent over his desk as he scribbles furiously. It’s a common theme in our lives.

I grab another mince pie and examine the kitchen with a satisfied smile. It was installed last month, and I keep stopping to look at it. Bee and I had chosen bright yellow cupboards with an oak worksurface, and it had taken me, Freddy, and Jack a whole week to fit them. We’d been joined by my dad and Brillo, the lead singer of a famous rock band who’s currently staying with my parents. The latter's contribution had been to sit on the doorstep telling us increasingly debauched stories about his sex life, which often distracted Freddy. Less helpful was mybrother’s contribution when he’d tripped and knocked an open tin of paint all over the new floor tiles. I swear when he gets his own house, I’m going straight round there to get my revenge.

My phone rings, and I smile when I see Ivy’s contact picture. It was taken last summer when we’d all gone to Greece. She has a sunburned red nose that makes her look like Angry Bird.

“What’s up, Ives?”

“How are you feeling?”

Instantly, nerves come to life in my belly, and I blow out a considered breath. “I’m okay,” I say, a tremor in my voice.

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