10. Sebastian
CHAPTER TEN
SEBASTIAN
L ily had told me during one of our fake tutorial sessions that she lived on Leven Street, so I’d chosen the coffee shop not just for the good coffee but because I knew it was only a two-minute walk from her flat.
I didn’t want to give her any reason not to show.
For me, it was a twenty-minute walk from the three-bedroom penthouse on the Royal Mile where Harry, Zac, and I had lived since second year.
Harry’s father had insisted his son live somewhere that represented his status and had bought the apartment.
But Harry didn’t want to live there alone, so Zac and I moved in with him.
Harry continually mocked his dad because he seemed to forget where the family started.
Harry’s grandfather was Baron Grimstone of Kensington and a member of the House of Lords.
However, he was born outside of Glasgow, never attended university, and worked his way up in life.
He’d been in television in the eighties, as in he owned a UK studio.
He’d then gone on to become a director of a massive telecommunications company, before snowballing more businesses under his billionaire wings.
While Harry’s father had grown up in Kent, attended Eton, and St. Andrews University, Harry’s grandfather had never forgotten he was a working-class boy who did well for himself.
He’d dedicated a lot of time and money to charities and was knighted for his philanthropy.
From there, he’d ascended to the House of Lords.
Harry got on better with his grandfather than his dad who really was the most pretentious arsehole I’d ever met.
I could have lived anywhere. I wasn’t fussed about accommodation.
Neither was Zac, whose mother was an Academy Award-winning actor who had him through artificial insemination with donor sperm.
She’d sent Zac to a posh prep school and then Harrow.
Unlike Harry, whom I’d known since boarding school, we’d met Zac in our first year.
To give Harry some peace from his old man, we’d moved into the posh flat on the Royal Mile.
We should have been the party pad, but many of the other residents were not students and didn’t put up with that shit.
We’d tried holding parties in second year and they were constantly broken up by building security.
In third year, we held our annual Hogmanay party and nobody stopped us, so we tried to push for a second event and once again, building security were called.
“If we’d rented some shithole, we could have a party every week,” Harry had grumbled last night. “We’ll have to settle for Hogmanay again this year.”
The three of us had chatted a little about it over beers and burgers on our large roof terrace.
I stepped out into the welcome sunshine of a mild September, wondering if Lily would be in my life long enough to invite her to the New Year’s Eve party.
Music blared from my phone via my earbuds.
My playlist mostly consisted of indie rock music, and I wondered what kind of music Lily liked. We hadn’t talked about that stuff yet.
I winced as what I soon realized was my new ringtone cut through a Hozier track as I headed down Victoria Street.
“Bugger,” I muttered, pulling my phone out of my pocket to see it was my mum.
Not wanting her to interrupt my coffee with Liv later, I answered.
I also made a mental note to kill Harry who’d switched my Stereophonics ringtone to the retro Crazy Frog.
Immature arsehole. “Mum,” I answered a little snappily.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” she asked tartly.
“Nothing, sorry. Harry just being an idiot.”
“That boy.” She sighed heavily. “Are you at the flat?”
“Just heading to meet a friend for coffee.” I braced myself. “What’s up?”
“Well, your father is being imperious about the use of the villa next spring.”
“The villa?” Our family owned a villa—a large farmhouse—in the south of France. We usually spent a few weeks there together in the summer, but, of course, it didn’t happen last summer, and it wouldn’t happen next.
“Yes, the villa. He has it for Christmas and three weeks in the summer. I want it for spring and September. But he’s arguing that he should have it in spring since I don’t like the mild rainy weather then, which is utter nonsense.
Anyway, Juno has claimed a few weeks in the summer for herself, so I thought to spite your father, you could claim it for your spring holiday.
You could invite some friends with you.”
Frowning as the steep descent of Victoria Street came to an end on the Grassmarket, I clarified, “You want me to have the villa for a week in spring? All to myself? To spite Dad?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” Who was I to argue with that? “Is that all?”
“You’re rather abrupt this morning. Did you get my texts about Amelia? Have you seen her yet?”
“Mother, I have no interest in an eighteen-year-old fresher, whether she’s Lady Amelia or a pop bloody princess.”
“You’re saying she’s too young?”
“Yes, she’s too young. Also, I have no interest in a serious relationship, so please stop foisting women on me.”
“Would you prefer me to foist young men on you because you know I love you no matter your sexual orientation?”
Affection softened my tone. “I know you do. And I appreciate it. Though my interest does only lie with females. My interest also only lies with females who aren’t looking for monogamy or love.”
“That’s because you haven’t met the right one.”
I groaned.
“And I met the Viscount Wellmount’s daughter, Margaret, and she was quite lovely. Perhaps when you’re next at home, I can?—”
“No,” I cut her off. “Mum, I’m really not interested.”
“Fine.” She sniffed haughtily. “Who is this friend you’re meeting? A loose woman?”
“Oh, for God’s sake. When you and Dad decided to separate, did you stumble into a time machine and travel back to the nineteenth century?” Indignation filled me. Lily was far from a loose woman, whatever that meant.
“Bastian—”
“Mum, I love you, I do. But please don’t become one of those women who judges other women. You never have before, and I’d really like it if you didn’t start now.”
“You sound like your sister.” She was silent a moment. “I don’t mean to come across as judgy. I merely want you both to end up with the right sort of person.”
“I happen to think the right sort of person is the one you’re in love with regardless of their background. Not because they have a page in Debrett’s . I used to think that’s who you were too, or you wouldn’t have married my father.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have married the man my mother wanted me to marry.”
At her sad tone, I dared to ask, “What really happened between you and Dad?”
“Nothing for you to worry yourself over, my darling. I’ll let your father know the villa is yours next spring. I must go. I’m meeting Mummy for afternoon tea.”
“Tell Granny I said hello.”
“I will. Love you, Bastian.”
“Love you too, Mum.”
Melancholy threatened to cloud my thoughts as I continued toward the coffee shop. I wanted to fix things between my parents, but they stubbornly refused to discuss what had happened to create this split.
It was maddening and depressing.
However, the sight of Lily standing outside the coffee shop made all those dark feelings crumble away.
Warmth radiated through me at the sight of her texting someone, her head bowed over her phone.
She’d tied up her hair in a messy knot that was falling over to one side, a loose strand caressing her cheek.
She wore a T-shirt knotted at the waist and skinny jeans that accentuated her narrow waist and lush hips.
Two blokes passed her, one of them eyeing her up, even turning back to look at her as he passed. Lily didn’t even notice. Totally oblivious.
“Are you texting with a secret admirer?” I teased upon approach.
Lily startled, her head jerking up from her phone. Her large hazel eyes were round with surprise. Then she let out a huff of laughter. “You scared me.”
“You were rather engrossed.”
“Oh.” She waved her phone before tucking it into the back pocket of her jeans. “Sierra has been on at me to start dating again for the podcast, so I swiped right on this guy last night and he messaged to ask me out.”
A prick of some unfamiliar feeling niggled me. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation. “Oh. You said yes?” I pushed open the coffee shop door, holding it for her.
Lily nodded as she passed, and I inhaled the delicious floral scent of whatever shampoo she used. “I did.”
“You’re interested, then?”
“Not really.” She shrugged. “I’ve got a lot on my plate this year and could do with a break from dating. But if it’ll shut Sierra up for another month, I’ll do it.”
My smile felt a little forced. “Right. Well, you know you shouldn’t do something you don’t want to do.”
“It’s fine. What are you drinking?”
“I’m buying. What do you want?”
“You don’t have?—”
“Nonsense. I invited you.”
Lily sighed but capitulated. “Hazelnut latte. Thank you.”
“You go grab a table. I’ll be right over.”
A minute or so later, I settled across the small table from her, my legs bumping into hers beneath it. “Sorry.” I chuckled. “These are rather cozy, aren’t they.”
“You have very long legs.” She pointed out the obvious. “And mine aren’t exactly short.”
I smiled, watching her add sugar to the latte, making a mental note about how she took her coffee. “What music do you like?” I blurted out.
Lily smiled at the question, those adorable, dimpled cheeks somehow sexy at the same time. “Random, but okay. I have eclectic taste. You’ll find me listening to rock, dance, pop, country. Pretty much everything but heavy metal and jazz.”
“Note to self, hates heavy metal and jazz.”
“What about you?”
“Indie rock mostly.”
“Is music important to you?”
“I play a little piano. But it’s not something I ever wanted to make my life in. Yet, it is important. I listen to music almost every day, and I like going to gigs.”
“Me too.”
“There’s this really good cover band playing Whistlebinkies next Friday. Would you want to go?” Whistlebinkies was a live music bar on South Bridge. “A few of us are going,” I hurried to say at her hesitation.
“Oh. I would like to … but that’s when this dating app guy wants to meet.”
“Bring him,” I insisted. “It’ll make it safer.”
Lily raised an eyebrow. “Safer?”
“Yes, safer.” I’d never really thought of it before, but it didn’t sit well with me Lily meeting some stranger off a dating app.
I’d never used the apps myself, but it suddenly occurred to me how much less safe it was for women than men.
I wondered if Juno used dating apps and what precautions she took when meeting strangers. I’d ask her later.
“Okay.” She shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good.”
“So …” Lily took a sip of her latte while searching my face. She wiped a smear of coffee off her lips, almost distracting me from her next question. “You mentioned you have a sister. What’s she like?”
“Juno is two years older than me, but you’d think she was ten years older. We grew up close, she grew up protective.” I chuckled. “She’s one of my closest friends, really. Not sure that’s very cool to admit, but it’s true.”
“I don’t care about cool. I love that you’re so close to her.”
“She’s mad as a hatter. Ballsy, take no prisoners. Says the most preposterous things and mocks me relentlessly. But I love her.”
Lily’s expression softened. “She sounds wonderful. She sounds like she’d get on really well with January.”
“Your little sister?”
Lily nodded. “She’s a fresher this year. And my complete opposite.”
“Plain, stupid, and unkind?” I teased.
She grimaced. “No, I meant she’s loud and überconfident, assertive, blunt. She’s also hilarious. But from the outside in, I think people find her intimidating. I’m as intimidating as the saber-toothed tiger in The Croods .”
Chuckling, I pulled out my phone to google the movie. “I’ve never seen it.” An adorable animation of a saber-toothed tiger appeared on my screen, and I burst out laughing. “Yes, you are definitely as intimidating as that.”
“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” Lily peered over the table at my phone, her dimples melting me.
“Not as adorable as you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s me. Adorable.”
“It’s not a bad thing, you know.”
“Hmm, if you say so.”
“I do say so. Have you seen Rise of the Guardians ?”
“Uh, aye. Queen of animations over here.”
Grinning, I nodded. “It’s one of my favorite movies, but that’s just between you and me. If anyone else asks, my favorite movie is The Godfather .”
“Have you even seen The Godfather ?”
“Of course. Once.”
Lily burst out laughing and I found myself grinning like the Cheshire fucking Cat.
And that’s how our morning went. Easy, natural conversation over three coffees.
She told me more about her love for romance novels and I insisted on a list of recommendations.
She sent me a few links, looking very much like she thought I never intended to click on them. She was wrong.
I could’ve sat there for hours talking nonsense with Lily.
When she announced she had to leave to get ready for an afternoon class, I wanted to plead with her to stay a little longer. Instead, I walked her out of the coffee shop and down the street to her flat.
“So, this is where you live?” I stared up at the building as noisy traffic passed behind us.
“This is it.” She glanced over her shoulder at me, her key dangling in the main entrance door. “So … I’ll see you.”
“I’ll text you,” I promised her firmly. “If you’ve got time, I’d love to see you before Friday.”
“I might come on Friday. Might.”
I sighed. “Please. It’ll make me feel better to check out this bloke and to know you’re surrounded by friends. Safe.”
“Thorne, you do realize I’ve been on many dates?”
I smirked at her use of my surname. “Yes, Sawyer, I do. But that was before you knew me and I’m overprotective of my friends.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “I’ll talk to you soon. Thanks for coffee.” And then she was inside, the heavy entrance door shutting behind her.
A pang of something weird spread across my chest.
I didn’t like the feeling.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I quickly sent Lily a text.
Lunch. Teviot. Thursday. You free?
I turned and started walking back toward home.
A minute later, my phone beeped.
I can do 1 p.m.
A massive grin split my face as I quickly texted back.
See you then.