Page 27 of For Fake's Sake and other stories

“Yeah, I put the question to him yesterday. He’s looking forward to meeting you.”

“You were that confident. I’m impressed.”

“Not confident, hopeful. I want to be with you, Ollie. I’ve wanted it from the first time we met.” His honesty surprises me.

“Yeah? Well, I feel the same way. I’m hooked on you, Kit. Shit, we shouldn’t be talking about this over the phone. Can we pick this up again tonight?”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

I shouldn’t have been so surprised by how much Ollie knows about what kids need. He was that boy. The one so lost and on his own, the one who thought there was no way out except to take the pain away forever. Banner is incredible, completely on board from the start, and promises that in a couple of days, he’ll have a list of counsellors willing to help. And they are nationwide, not confined to London.

By the time we leave, Ollie’s buzzing and seems to be floating. We hold hands as we walk back to the Tube. “We need to go back to mine to get some clothes for tomorrow. Then we can grab something to eat. What do you fancy?”

“You.” I pull him into my arms. “But until I can eat you out, maybe Italian.”

Ollie turns bright red and splutters. “You can’t say stuff like that in the middle of the pavement.”

“Why not? It’s true.” I kiss him and slide my hands up his chest and over his shoulders to push up into his hair. As I dig my nails into his scalp, he moans and strokes his tongue over mine. He grips my hips, holding me close.

He breaks away and pulls in a long breath. “Fuck clothes and food. Take me to your place right now.”

We manage to keep our hands to ourselves all the way home, but that doesn’t stop me from whispering everything I’mgoing to do to him once we’re home. As soon as I slam the front door, it’s full steam ahead.

“Get fucking naked now,” Ollie growls at me and tugs at his clothes. His expensive pea coat drops to the floor like it’s a rag. He pushes me against the wall and attacks my mouth as he mauls the buttons on my shirt until frustration takes over and he rips the shirt open. I’m about to complain when I remember it’s his shirt.

It’s not until his mouth travels down to my chest that someone lets out a distinct cough. A clearing of a throat I’ve heard countless times in my life. “Stop,” I whisper. “Ollie, you need to stop.”

He freezes. “What’s wrong? Have I done something?”

“No, baby, it’s not you.” I try not to look to the side because I know what, or rather who I’m going to find there.

“You’re kidding me? You’re ending this! What the fuck, Kit?” Crap, he thinks I’m giving him the “it’s not you, it’s me” bullshit.

“No, baby. It’s not that. It’s my mother.” I subtly nod to the left.

Ollie frowns, and his eyes go wide. “Shit!”

“Have you two stopped acting like animals and realised I’m here?” Her droll, upper-crust accent cuts through me, and I close my eyes.

I open them slowly and turn to her. “What are you doing here, Mother? How did you get in?”

“That silly boy Adam let me in. He said he had an appointment to get to and rushed out. I’m not sure he’s all there, you know.” Her gaze moves to Ollie, and he flinches. He hates authoritative voices. “Who are you? Kit, come here and introduce us.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper. “Mother, this is my boyfriend, Ollie. Ollie, this is my mother, Lady Daphne Wells.”

“What’s your surname, Oliver? You look familiar.”

“It’s Ollie, Mum, and I doubt it.” But Ollie has gone pale.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Wells, and it’s Stansbury.”

She frowns. “No, that’s not it. It’ll come to me.” Perhaps she has gone bat-crap crazy. She’s far too mean to do us all that favour. Which means she’s up to something.

“Again, Mother, why are you here?” If she comes to the point, I can get her to leave, and I can get back to taking Ollie apart.

“Yes, of course. I was in town for a meeting, so it was easier to come and see you than call. Clarissa Thockmorton is having her winter ball on New Year’s Eve, of all dates. I told her you had a boyfriend and would be bringing him. So you both have to last until then.”

“I’m not going, Mother. I told you that after last year’s.”

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