That One Moment (Lost in London #2)(75)
And then it wasn’t.
He held me afterward and asked me if I would be his date for Theo and Leslie’s wedding next weekend. I even laughed when he begged me to wear a red dress. He continued to whisper the most beautiful things in my ear as I drifted off to sleep, but never the three words I wanted to hear most from him.
God, how could I be so stupid? I held him over a barrel last night, asking to see his scars. Then I had to ruin everything by saying I love him. I thought once he opened his cuffs to me, things would change. No more barriers. No more shields. No more rituals. But there he stands, outside my flat, wishing away his past or his current life.
My stomach drops. My only hope is that what I have planned for today could be a turning point for him. If it is, then I’m even hoping he’ll come home with me for family dinner tomorrow night.
“You ready?” I ask as he comes striding in. I paint a happy smile on my face.
It feels forced until his hard grey gaze lifts to mine and his eyes warm with affection. God that smile. It makes me want to forget everything that happened last night and take him to the movies.
“Still not telling me where we’re going?” he asks, sliding his feet into his shoes.
What is it that’s so sexy about a man walking around barefoot in your flat? “It’s a surprise,” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully.
The cab drops us off in front of a familiar building in Notting Hill and Hayden cuts me a skeptical look. “Is Benji pissed again?”
I chuckle. “Nope.”
“Are we here because he wants to re-ignite our love connection?” he asks with a smug tone. “He was a pretty good kisser.”
I giggle and slide my hand into his. “Nope. Just have to trust me!”
We check in with the doorman and head up to the second floor toward Benji’s aunt’s flat. I smirk thinking about how cross Hayden was the night he helped me get Benji home after the gala. So much has changed in so little time.
I knock on the door and Agitha Abernathy opens it, looking a bit more put together than the last time I saw her. She’s a short round woman with ample bosoms concealed beneath a pink sweater set with cream trousers. Her hair is permed and sculpted to the shape of her head, looking as if an entire can of hairspray has set it to be so.
“Aunt Agitha,” I smile broadly. “Vi Harris. Thank you for agreeing to do this!” I reach out and shake her hand. “This is my…boyfriend…Hayden Clarke.” I bite my lip realising that’s the first time I’ve ever referred to Hayden as my boyfriend. The slip wasn’t lost on him either as the corner of his mouth lifts in appreciation.
Her chubby fingers grip Hayden’s large hand. She looks between the two of us. “Glad to see you two figured things out.”
I frown. “What do you mean?” I ask curiously.
She beams happily, “We’ll get to that. Come, come! And please, just call me Aggie.” She bustles us into her flat that looks like it’s a snippet of English Home and Country Magazine. My eyes widen as I see hutch after hutch after hutch filled with…“Salt and pepper shakers!” she sings, answering my silent question. “I’m a bit of a collector. I have a set dated back to King George the III! Do you want to see?”
After a polite amount of time oohing and aahing over her collection, she leads us into her kitchen. Benji is out of town, apparently at some comic book convention, which is just extra convenient for me. I would prefer not to have him around while we do this.
She offers us a seat at her round, retro-style table with sea foam green chairs and a white and green designed top. It’s a bright room with lots of natural light streaming in from the pigeon-scattered window. On the table she’s got some votive candle holders, a deck of tarot cards, and what appear to be some tuning forks.
“I haven’t told him why we’re here yet, Aggie, so just one second.” I turn and look at Hayden’s quizzical expression as he adjusts in his chair to face me. “Hayden, Benji’s aunt is a psychic.”
“Okay,” he replies slowly, his expression wary.
“She specialises in numerology.” I touch his arm encouragingly and he instinctively shifts closer to me.
“Interesting,” Hayden says politely, crossing his cuff-covered wrists over each other on the table.
“I thought we could talk to her about 11:11 a bit.” My eyes watch him as I see it all click together. His jaw clenches.
“All due respect, Miss Aggie, I’m not sure this is necessary.” He moves to stand up, so I reach out and hold him down.
“What could it hurt to just get a little background information on the number, Hayden? It could be really interesting.”
His jaw shifts side to side, but I see that look in his eyes. That look that shows how utterly difficult it is for him to ever say no to me. “Fine,” he snaps and shifts in closer to the table.
Aggie beams. “Brilliant! So tell me, what specifically did you want to discuss today, love?”
I look to Hayden who is doing his best to remain polite, but is visibly struggling with this. “Well, Aggie, my boyfriend here has a strong connection to the time 11:11, and I wondered what kinds of things you can tell us about the meaning behind that number. I assume you may have some insight.”
“Oh yes, certainly. I’ve studied numerology for many years and it is incredible how much it plays a part in our everyday lives.” She moves her glasses to the top of her head and leans her plump arms on the table as she continues. “Some say that 11:11 is the angelic hour. It’s when your angels can send you messages. Specifically noticing it on a regular basis is often times the Universe’s way of providing a wakeup call so to speak. It’s a sign that you’re about to embark on a journey of discovery.”