Page 4 of From London, With Love

The girls open their mouths and at the same time mutter, “She’s moving out.”

“She’s given us three months' notice, since that’s when her one-way ticket to Peru is booked for,” Mia continues.

The confusion in my expression morphs into frustration. “How can she bail on the lease like that? I know she’s awful, but this isn’t right! What will you two do? The rent is hardly?—”

“Lara, hon, take a breath.” Mia interrupts my babbling. “We’re big girls. We’ll find another flatmate, and all will be okay.”

“I’d rather move in myself than risk you two inviting another Satan to live with you.”

I’m not sure what response I’d expected, but it wasn’t their answering silence. In sync as always, the girls face each other, sharing a look. When they look back at me, they’re wearing expressions I can’t quite place.

“You two are worrying me, what’s the scheming look for?”

“Lara, that’s possibly the best idea you have ever had,” Harper says as Mia nods enthusiastically, causing her blonde bun to bob all over the place.?

“Okay, you’ve lost me. I didn’t have an idea?”

“Move in with us!” Mia exclaims.

“Ha! Oh, Mia. You know it was a joke, right?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Harper responds. I look betweentheir conspiring faces, trying to determine what on earth is happening.

“You know I love you both, but I can’t up and move halfway across the world; that’s insane.”

“Why not?” the girls say in unison. “Lara, please know I mean these next words with nothing but love. What’s keeping you in Brisbane, or Australia, for that matter? You don’t like your job, you’re single, and the only ties you have are your parents and brother,” says Harper.?

“Ouch Harps, brutal. True, but brutal.” I wrap the cream throw adorning the couch around my shoulders, feeling a little cooler after the theoretical cold shower that was Harper’s words.?

“You should definitely think about it, Lara. I mean, can you imagine the mischief the three of us could create if we were in the same country?” Mia replies with a wink. A cheeky grin breaks out across her face, causing her dimples to pop.?

“Oh bugger, it’s seven thirty already. Sorry Lars, we have to cut it short this morning because Harps has a meeting,” Mia’s voice is laced with regret as she announces the end of my favourite Friday tradition.?

Harper, in my opinion, is the epitome of adulthood success and represents everything I want to be when I grow up. She’d be offended if she heard me say that since she’s not even a year older than me. At 28, Harper is in her dream field, working towards her dream career—she’s a senior accountant at one of London’s top accounting firms, with the dream of one day taking the reins as CFO. Being the headstrong person she is, I have no doubt Harper will achieve her goal in no time.

Meanwhile, Mia and I are still trying to figure out what the fuck we want to do with ourselves and our futures. I have the thought, ‘I am not qualified to be an adult’, at least twice a week; I imagine Mia has it even more frequently. We aren’timmature by any means, but we’re also incomparable to Harper and her assurance.

“Goodbye, my girls. Have a wonderful Friday!” The girls say their goodbyes and blow kisses to me through the screen.

Those three distinct beeps signal the end of the video call, but I don’t move to stand. Instead, I settle into the lounge, empty wine glass in hand, and think about the unimaginably crazy direction that conversation went.Me, move across the world to the UK? I couldn’t possibly. Could I?

Chapter 2

Carter

“Fuck!”

With more force than anticipated, I pull my helmet off my head and flinch.

“Too slow, little brother,” Teddy gloats. “Is that fancy new Ninja unable to live up to the hype, or is it perhaps a user error?”

“Screw you, Theodore,” I throw the mirth-laced words at my brother as we walk our motorbikes back to the sheds. Teddy’s deep belly laugh rings out around us while the smell of rubber-marred asphalt encases my nostrils. It’s quiet when we reach the shed; the past hour of wind that threatened to whistle straight through my eardrums now nowhere to be seen.

Theodore Lawrence, affectionately known by our family as Teddy, is practically my twin. We’re the spitting image of each other despite the fact he has two years and two inches on me. The latter is a fact he’ll tell anyone who’ll listen. He loves it when we’re mistaken for twins; it makes his old arse feel younger than his thirty-one years.

“It’s alright, bud, someone has to lose.”

The fuckingcheekof this guy.

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