Page 24 of The Alpha Escort Agency
He leans over the iron railing and peers down into the murky depths. “It's not as bad as you think. Especially if you head up river. There's quite a lot of wildlife that lives in the water."
“Really?” She quirks her eyebrow and rests her hip against the railing, taking a gulp of the ale.
“Yes. Quite a few species of fish and birds. Especially if you come at low tide, early in the morning. Although there are often treasure hunters at that time too.”
“Treasure hunters. Now that sounds exciting.” She lifts onto her tiptoes, then down again.
“This river is so old.” He stares across the rippling surface, out towards the far side, where lit-up buildings line the bank. “It has so much to tell.”
“I suppose it does.” She pivots and leans her elbows on the railing like he does, following his gaze, her shoulder leaning into his.
Could he wrap an arm around her and tug her in closer? Take her hand and pull her along the river, to the railway arches, push her up against the brick wall and unbutton her coat? Slide his hand under her blouse and squeeze the flesh of her breast between his fingers and swallow up her mouth with his own?
He closes his eyes. Loud voices float across from the pub behind them and there is the strong rumble of traffic, a siren blaring over the bridge and towards the hospital. But all of that is distant. Here the river seems to muffle the city's noise.
“It's surprisingly peaceful here.” She rests her head against his shoulder and the aroma of her contentment fills his nose.
“It is.” He wonders if his scent betrays his own feelings, how much he’s enjoyed basking in her company.
“Do you come here a lot?”
“To the river? Sometimes.” He lifts his glass and takes another drink, swilling the liquid around the bottom afterwards. “But I try to get out of the city as often as I can.”
“You're a Londoner though, aren't you? I mean, I can hear it in your voice.”
“Yeah, south London.”
“We're opposites then. I'm the country girl who was always desperate to get away to the city. You're the city boy dying to run away to the country.” She pauses, lifting her head and turning to peer at him. “Why don't you?”
“My family.” He hesitates. "My work."
She stiffens, and he pretends not to notice.
“Don't you miss the countryside?” he asks.
“I hated it growing up. It was so goddamn boring. Nothing to do. I couldn't wait to get away. But now I miss it. Especially the sea. It's that classic, isn't it? You don't know what you've got until it's gone.”
He snorts. “You know,” he says, “I've found the opposite. Sometimes you think something is good, really really good. But it's not until it's gone that you realise it was making you miserable.”
Her eyes dart around his face, he sees it from the corner of his eye, as if she's trying to read him.
“Are we talking about a person here?”
He shifts his weight on his feet, drifting a little away from her.
“No,” he says firmly.
“Right.” She takes a long swig from her glass, eyes still trained on him. “This is weird, isn't it?”
His head flips round to hers and he meets her gaze. “Is it?”
“I think so, yes.”
His throat constricts. “Right.”
“I mean, weird in a good way."
"A good way?" He doesn't follow her reasoning.
