“You want me to stay?”
“Yeah, I do. I feel like crap and I don’t want to be on my own. From what I can tell, you don’t either.”
He had a point. Spending the evening alone would mean suffering from homesickness and missing Miguel. At least if I stayed with Radleigh, I’d have someone to talk to.
Once I’d relaxed again, I took my shoes off and curled up on the bed. As Radleigh was bed-ridden, we ordered food then watched part of a comedy movie, which we had to turn off half way through because the laughter made his head hurt.
“I was enjoying that,” I said as I switched the television off and went to sit beside him on his bed, where he was covering his eyes with his arm.
“You’re a bitch,” he moaned. “I’m in pain. This is your fault for making me watch that movie.”
“You’re such a drama queen. Besides, you were enjoying it too.”
“Until it gave me a headache.”
“Because you were laughing, because you were enjoying it,” I finished, with a smugness that rivalled his own.
He peered up at me from behind his arm. “You’re not half bad to be around when you’re not being uptight.”
“Well, you’re not half bad to be around when you’re not being a sleaze.”
Before he had a chance to respond, my mobile bleeped, alerting me to a text.
I grabbed my phone and clicked to read.
I think you are well fit. Did I get that right? :D
I threw my head back, dissolving into giggles. Clearly Miguel was taking his British slang lessons seriously.
Very good! You’re a top bloke. Xx
A few seconds passed before his reply. Oh come on, you’re really testing me now! Xx
Keep practising! Xx
I put my phone down on the bed, amused and warmed by Miguel’s messages. After reading them, all I wanted to do was curl up in my own room and talk to him, so I stood up and said, “I think it’s time for bed.”
“Why? You need to go and talk dirty with your boyfriend?”
So much for him not being a sleaze.
Choosing to ignore his comment, I slid my phone into my pocket and picked up my laptop. “Is there anything you need before I go?”
He finally put his arm down by his side, allowing me to see just how tired he looked. “You could stay here.”
“I don’t think so,” I told him. “That would be unprofessional.”
“I’ve built a career out of being unprofessional.”
I almost smiled. He certainly didn’t gain his nickname for playing fair.
“I built mine by working hard and gaining a good reputation.”
He shrugged, and I took that as my cue to leave. After a relatively drama free day, I didn’t want it to end in an argument neither of us had the energy for. We were both still alive after eight hours together. I figured I could chalk that up as a win.
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Chapter 6: There's A Teenager Inside Every Man