Page 7 of Time To Learn

2

Kristian

What the fuck am I doinghere?

I walk slowly down the aisles at Waterstones behind my aunt, Lise, wondering how to come up with an excuse to head back to her house and sleep.

The party last night at the tattoo shop wasn’t my best idea, but I can’t deny it wasfun.

If only the banging in my head and the churning in my gut would cease.

Who knew Scottish lassies could party like that? As memories of the night rush through my mind, I try to suppress a groan. The two minxes I met last night really did a number onme.

“Stop groaning, boy,” Lise scolds me as she scans the cookbooks.

“I’m not,” I laugh, but then I cringe as the sound of my voice sets off another wave of nausea.

“Oh, but yes, you are. It’s annoying, and rude, so please try to behave yourself.”

I grimace and put a hand on the shelf to my left. I twist my body, trying to be careful as I rest my head back, my eyes squinting when the harsh light from the lamps in the ceiling hitsthem.

“I don’t understand why you had to drag me out of bed at this godforsaken hour,” I mumble.

Her outstretched hand falters as she turns her head, gaping atme.

“‘Godforsaken hour’? Honey, it’s noon. It’s hardly the crack ofdawn.”

I run a hand through my longish hair and rub myeyes.

“In my line of work, itis.”

I know I sound like a petulant child, but I don’t care. All I care about is getting some sleep.

“You’ve been partying way too hard since you arrived last month.”

The disapproval in Lise’s voice annoys me, but only because I know she’s right.

I hate that she’s right, but that doesn’t mean I’llstop.

Despite my best efforts to forget what—or, more to the point, who—drove me to Glasgow in the first place, my bloody heart hasn’t ceased hurting like hell. It doesn’t matter how much pussy I’ve buried my cock inside—all those women haven’t helped lessen my heartache. But I’m a man, so I’ll keep doing my best and try to forget the curly-haired, blue-eyed, tattooed reason that I’m in so muchpain.

“Maybe you should slow down a bit, Kristian.”

The concern in Lise’s voice brings me back from my past, and I give her a crooked smile. Popping out the dimples works every time, and when her frown disappears, her lips twitching with amusement, it only confirms it. She’s not mad at me anymore. But how can she be? My smile is practically the same as hers and Mum’s—it’s uncanny how much the three of us look alike. She’s not that old she can’t remember that she probably used to work those dimples the same way like I donow.

“Hey, I’m young,” I smirk at her. “I’m meant to sow my wildoats.”

Snorting, she shakes her head, her blonde hair brushing herjaw.

“You might be young, but that doesn’t mean that you’re allowed to be irresponsible,” she scolds me as she places the book back on the shelf. “Just promise me that you’ll be careful, please.”

Hearing the finality in her voice, I nod slowly.

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Good.”

She doesn’t really have to tell me that. We both know only too well how much one thoughtless act in the past can have the biggest impact on your life in the future.