“Why should I? I live here. That’s a tourist trap,” I explain.
“Well, today we’re going to play at being tourists, you and me. Show me your city, Susanna.” He cups my cheeks and kisses me, cradling my face like all dreamy boyfriends in rom-coms and romance novels do, and I practically melt into the bed at the tender gesture.
I don’t know what I did to deserve his attention, but I’m going to revel in it for as long as I can.
“The view up here is spectacular!” Susanna braces her hands on the glass like a little kid, staring at the massive city spread out before us. She glances over her shoulder to flash me a huge grin before returning her attention to the city. “You can see everything!”
I come up behind her, slipping my arms around her waist and resting my chin on her shoulder. “And you said you didn’t want to come on the London Eye.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to, I just…never have. Only tourists come here,” she says, her lips still curved as her gaze meets mine. “I’m glad you wanted to go.”
“I’m glad you brought me.” I give her a squeeze and kiss her cheek, then release her, my own gaze snagged on the city. We’re in one of those glass capsules that spin around the Eye, giving us 360-degree views of London, and there are at least twenty other people in the capsule with us. A few of them are staring at me like they might recognize me, but I don’t know.
Maybe I’m just paranoid.
Once we came up with a plan for our day, Susanna showed me the photos of us on the internet. I was floored someone cared enough to mention my name in a gossipy article. Back home, I rarely get any type of media attention, and when I do, it’s usually tied to Tuttle. We played on the same high school team, so the media loved to mention that connection, especially during our first couple of seasons.
Now, though, I don’t stand in the spotlight much, and I’m fine with it. I don’t need a lot of attention. I just want to play ball and get paid the big bucks to do it. I’m a lucky son of a bitch and I know it.
Today, I feel even luckier than usual, and that all has to do with Susanna.
She’s wandering around the capsule too, snapping endless photos on her phone. I take one of her, catching her off guard, and she shoots me a playful glare as she makes her way toward me.
“I bet I look horrible in that photo you just took,” she accuses, reaching for my phone.
I hold it above my head, out of her reach. “Let’s take one together then.”
She stands just in front of me and I dip my head so our cheeks are pressed close. Holding the phone out in front of us, I snap a bunch of selfies, silently marveling at how beautiful she looks at this very moment. Her eyes are sparkling and her cheeks are pink, and her hair is the slightest bit wavy.
I’m glad I captured this moment, one I will remember forever.
Within minutes we’re off the London Eye and then we’re walking along the River Thames, dodging the many tourists, the wind brisk against our faces. I’m wearing a sweatshirt but I’m still freezing, and Susanna is wearing a full-blown wool coat, gloves and a scarf. We stopped by her place before we started on our tourist excursion, and it was interesting to catch a glimpse of where she lives.
The flat was decently furnished, but the furniture was nondescript and the kitchen tiny—I could barely fit my monstrous ass in there. I sat on the edge of her saggy mattress and watched while she searched through her closet, trying to find the right thing to wear.
I finally grabbed hold of her waist, hauled her into my lap, told her she could go out naked for all I cared and kissed her senseless.
Funny, though, how my kissing her seemed to actually knock some sense into her head, and she was dressed and ready to go within twenty minutes.
“Where to next?” I ask as we walk side by side. I slow my pace to let her keep up with me, since my long stride equals about two to three of hers.
“Not sure. Would you like to see Buckingham Palace?”
“Is your relative the queen in the house?” I’m joking, but wouldn’t it be awesome if Susanna could get me a visit with the queen?
“We’re not that close of relatives. I’ve never even met the woman.” She rolls her eyes and nudges me in the side with her elbow. “Maybe we should take a taxi. It’s too far to walk, and it’s already so late.”
“It’s only three o’clock,” I point out.
“The sun sets around four or so.”
Earlier than it sets at home, that’s for sure.
We walk in silence, people passing by us, the street up ahead filled with traffic. A cold wind blows off the river and I tug the hood of my sweatshirt up, trying to cover my cold cheeks.
“We should use one of those hop on/hop off buses.” I point at one in the near distance. “They’re everywhere.”
“We have to pay for them, though.” She makes a little face. “And it’s too expensive, considering how late it is. We won’t be on it long enough to be worth the price.”