Only You - Lord of the Manor book 1

Chapter 6

'Oh, okay, I won't keep you then,' He sounds disappointed. 'I've boxed up the rest of your things.'

'Oh, right,'

'There's no rush,' he adds. 'If you're free sometime, it would be nice to catch up.'

It would? Catch up on what? How many he's slept with since I left? It's nice that we're still on talking terms, I did spend four years with the guy, but he's taking the whole "let's be friends" role a bit too far, treating me like one of his mates and filling me in on all of his latest conquests. I don't care, but I also don't want to hear about it.

'Sure, I'll ring you.' I suggest.

'Make sure you do, I miss you.'

WHOA! Where did that come from? Is he drunk? 'You do?' I ask. The shock in my voice is quite clear.

He laughs. 'I do. Good luck tomorrow.'

I hang up and sit wondering if it's time to collect my things and sever all ties. I'm not so sure the friend's scenario is going to work with us. Does it ever work? My phone rings again, but it's a number that I don't recognise.

'Louis Tomlinson.' I announce down the line, but there's no reply. 'Hello?'

'Are you alone?'

The voice hits me like a sledgehammer to the gut. Oh, fucking hell. I stand up and sit back down again. Visions of him stood half naked before me, pleading to me with his eyes, start to assault my mind's eye. This is exactly why I've been avoiding his calls. The affect he has on me is unsettling and most unwelcome.

Why didn't his name come up on my phone? 'No.' I lie, a sweat breaking out across my brow.

I hear him sigh. It's a loud sigh. 'Why are you lying to me?'

I jump back up from the sofa. How does he know? Darting across the lounge, my wine swishing out of my glass, I look out of the window to the road, but I can't see his car. How does he know I'm alone? In a panic and with a lump in my throat, I hang up. It rings again immediately. I chuck my phone onto the couch and let it ring off. And then it rings again.

'Go away!'

I pace the lounge, biting my nails and swigging my wine. Tuesday's events flood back into my mind, but not the bad stuff. Oh, no...it's all the bloody good stuff. How he made me feel, how his hands felt on me. Everything before I heard the shrill, cold voice of his boyfriend. I slam a lid on my thoughts immediately. I'm a pawn in his sexual exploits, and he's probably feeling hard done by after I pulled the plug on his charade. My phone declares a text message. I creep cautiously towards the sofa, like my phone might launch itself upwards and bite me.

For God's sake, I'm being pathetic. I grab my phone and open the text.

Answer your phone!

It rings again in my hand, making me jump, even though I completely expected it. He's relentless. I let it ring off again and, quite childishly, text back,

No

I pace some more, up and down, swigging wine and clutching my phone. It's not long before another text arrives.

Fine, I'm coming in.

'What? Oh no!' I shout at my phone. It is one thing ignoring the phone, but it's a whole other level of resistance trying to repel him when he's flesh and blood and looking right at me.

Shit, shit, shit! I frantically pull up my call log to call him. It rings once.

'Too late, Louis.' he drawls down the line. I stare at my phone in uncertainty, and then the banging starts.