Page 16 of All For You

The booming voice below sang an off-tune version of Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect.”

A screech and thud sounded from next door—the window opening with a shove?

“Roberto!” Nala hissed. “It’s two a.m. You’re waking everyone. Keep your voice down. And stop throwing stones at my window. You’re going to break the glass.”

I checked on Jane. She was a deep sleeper and snuffling away. I got up and cracked open our window. Below, a tall, shadowy figure swayed. Presumably Roberto. Next to me, Nala was leaning out her window. I jerked back so she couldn’t see me.

“Honey, I’m sorry,” the guy below said, not lowering his voice. “I’m a desperate man. I have to see you.”

He sounded distressed. Was this Nala’s ex-boyfriend?

“Don’t call me honey,” she replied. “Are you drunk?”

Sounded like it. I loved how she’d told him off.

“No! Okay, two pints. I sound slurry because I haven’t been able to sleep since you left two weeks ago, and I’m so tired. Nala, please, sweetheart. I need to see your beautiful face.”

Oh. Despite everything, he seemed endearing, though I knew he’d caused her torment.

“Don’tsweetheartme. Were you out with those idiotic mates of yours?” Nala said.

“Nala, they’re devastated too. Said I’m the only one who made it out of our band of numbies to find a true queen. They’re well pissed off with me. But I came to this conclusion on my own. And coming here was all my idea.”

She made a strangled sound of frustration and anger. “Turning up in the small hours of the morning and waking a whole bunch of strangers isn’t anidea,” she hissed. “It’s you being bloody annoying.”

Ha-ha. Good reply, Nala.

Roberto gave a small huff of amusement. “God, woman, you’re magnificent when you’re fucked off. I thought I couldn’t miss you more.”

He seemed captivated by her. Maybe he had come around after all and realized the error of his ways.

Then he sang “Perfect” again. His utter despair, pitchiness, and the fact that he didn’t know the words made me smile. He sounded sincere and romantic in a quirky, funny way. In contrast, my ex-fiancé wouldn’t have bothered making a fool of himself to show his desperation—not that he’d had any—to get me back. He’d be more concerned about getting in a good sleep to be fresh…for a weekend on the couch watching sports. Nala and Roberto, though, still had fire for each other.

Book motivation, maybe?

But they were second-chance, and the characters in my next book, Peony and Thomas, were friends-to-lovers. They didn’t have this couple’s history. But still…

Maybe Thomas knew this manor so well he scaled the walls, using the vines as rope, to save the day by giving Peony some urgent but disturbing news about her…sister? He reached for her window. Then—fell two stories and broke his leg! Peony would then attend his bedside for six weeks as Thomas healed and they fell in love!

Except a woman in Regency times wouldn’t be allowed to attend to an injured man for six weeks. And hanging around his bedside, not for something life-and-death, rather than longing to bein his bed, sounded boring. And why didn’t Thomas come through the front door? He knew the family. Idiot. Sounded like one of Roberto’s numbies.

Scratch that idea. In the bin, like all my others these days.

“Roberto, if you don’t stop singing, you’re going to see theperfectbottom of my slipper flying at your head,” Nala said.

“Do it. I love those fluffy slippers of yours,” he replied.

Nala groaned. “Wait at the front door. I’m coming down—but only to get rid of you.”

Smart, considering the racket he was causing, but I didn’t like that Roberto was drunk. I’d better follow her and make sure she was okay. A man’s head popped out of the window on the other side of Nala. Even at night, I recognized that imperious profile.

Ugh. Darcy. Who needed him to stick his oar in?

I crept out into the hallway, catching Nala as she padded downstairs in her dressing gown.

“Are you okay?” I whispered.

“Yes. I’m so sorry to wake you.”