Knee Deep || BDSM

Chapter 12 ~ The Secret Garden

"I look forward to tonight," Xavier says into the phone as I ride the tube home. 

"As do I, but I don't want to get your hopes up, Xavier," I bring us back down to earth as I roll into my perfect vintage view of London, nearing my flat. "Let's just keep it casual. You already sent me roses."

"Roses?"

"Didn't you?" 

"No," Xavier says with pure confusion.

"Oh."

He changes the subject, "Well, I'm getting tired of waiting for something more than casual."

"Do you care to repeat that?" I say with some bite. If the man wants me, he'll be patient and I press my car horn hard as a filthy yellow taxi nearly runs me over only fueling my anger for Xavier's smothering.

"No need to call me when you're on the way home. We'll discuss this tonight."

I sigh, "You're right. I'm sorry. I've missed you and I-"

"You what?"

"I missed you," I say again but quieter.

"It feels damn good to hear you say that," he says with perfect gentleness.

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

The sky remains overcast and the air frigid, as Xavier sends me an address for where I should take an Uber to. All alone, I glide through London in the back of an underwhelming car but dolled up in a burgundy satin dress and my dark grey overcoat.

I arrive outside The Barbican Centre and I ask the driver, "Is this Silk Street?"

"Yes, it is, now get out," he waves me off impatiently. "Valentine's Night, I gotta get going. Lots of customers. Hustle."

I frown, bewildered at such treatment as I stumble out of the Uber and his wheels squeak away. I pull out my phone to text Xavier if I'm at the right place. The Barbican Centre is a lavish performing arts center, often where the philharmonic or the ballet is held.

Priscilla. My Twisted Valentine: Tenderness and Toxicity. National Theatre Encore: Romeo & Juliet.

Are we seeing a show?

"Hey, lady," Xavier's familiar voice says from afar, with that light-hearted touch he always has.

Upon looking up, the most striking part about him is how casual he looks tonight. That same old white, cotton v-neck peeks from under a solid, black leather jacket and a blue pair of jeans with brown dress shoes.

Magnetically, we throw our arms around in each other in unison like old friends. No hesitation about it. I breathe in his cotton scent as he buries his face in my straightened hair and presses a tender kiss into my neck. I can't help but laugh from the tickles and the feeling off giddiness I get when I'm close to him.

"It's good to see you, little one," he whispers in my ear.

"The Barbican Centre, huh?"

He outstretches his long hand, "Here, come on."

Gladly, I take hold of it and he pulls me along, past the fountains and into the centre. I ask, "Are we seeing a film?"

Perhaps Xavier knew that Jacob Elordi makes me swoon.

"No," he answers evenly with a squeeze to my hand.

"Then where are we going? Dinner?"

"Dinner, yes. But you'll see."