Thirteen (Love by Numbers Book 4) (18 page)

Stay classy, Lilah.

T
he Fox brothers are no longer my friends.

We might have started out that way, but our friendship ended a long time ago.

It ended the day Jake took a smack to the face for me, off Milly Johnson’s older brother.

See, the thing is, Milly Johnson was
the ‘it’
girl in school, with her long blond hair, plump lips and big boobs, which she got a good year or so before any of her friends. What do young lads like to do to girls with big boobs when all their friends are still flat chested? Well, apart from the obvious, they like to twang their bra straps, it’s like a rite of passage, only the day I decided to twang Milly’s bra, was the day she’d decided enough was enough and set her big brother, Billy, on me. I know right? Milly and Billy; their parents were obviously having a laugh at their kids expense.

So, Billy is waiting for me by the school gates at the end of the day, along with four of his mates, and being a couple of years younger and smaller than him, I was rightly cacking my pants. Just as I get surrounded by the five of them, along comes Jake, as well as his brother, Nate. Jake had a reputation for being a bit of a scrapper and Nate wasn’t afraid of using his fists, either, so two of the five ran away immediately, leaving Billy and two skinny looking boys still baying for my blood.

“My sister says you tried to grab her boobs, so I’m going to bust your nose. I think that’s fair, don’t you?” Billy sneers before pushing me backwards, where I promptly land on my arse.

“Touch him again and it will be me breaking your nose, understand?” Jake squares up to Billy, chest to chest, eyeball to eyeball.

“This has nuthin’ to do with you, Fox. So skip on home to your mother,” Billy taunts. Jake doesn’t say another word. Instead, he promptly pulls back his arm and punches Billy square in the nose, causing the older boy to stumble back. His arms flail and he lands a lucky punch to the side of Jake’s face, but Jake doesn’t flinch. Billy’s two mates step forward, and then they take one look at Nate, who is leering at them, egging them on to start something and they turn on their heels and run.

Only Billy-No-Mates remains.

“Skip on home to your mother, Billy, or else I’ll give you a fat lip to go with your bleeding nose,” Jake warns.

Billy opens his mouth to respond, but Nate steps forward in a show of solidarity and Billy curses at us before legging it after his friends.

I watch the whole thing from my sprawled position on the floor, completely in awe of Jake standing up for me this way.

“Leave the girls and their tits alone, hey H.” He stretches out his hand and hauls me up off the ground. That one gesture sealed our fate.

We’ve been friends since we were young, but that was the day Jake Fox landed a black eye and was no longer my friend, but my family.

Now, I feel just as much a part of the Fox tribe, as I would have had I been born into them. Friends are the family you get to choose, and I was lucky the Fox’s had chosen me as theirs.

So when Nate called yesterday and offered me Jake’s old room at his place, free of charge as long as I looked after it while he was away, I knew it wasn’t out of pity. It was because that’s what families do. They offer unending support, precisely when you need it the most.

Don’t get me wrong, living at home again with my folks wasn’t awful. My parents are great people, but a guy needs his space and privacy, especially as I plan to invite Lilah over as soon as she is out of the hospital and up to another date.

I’m breaking out of this joint tomorrow. Want to come over and celebrate with me?

Of course, I want to celebrate with her. I have an urge to spend every moment I can with her. Especially since there are no longer any secrets between us.

We still have a lot to discuss, as Nicola made sure to interrupt our last date, but, at least, she knows who I am now, and I know who she is.

My Lilah.

My Bunny Girl.

By celebrate, do you mean naked? Or with food and drinks? Or, better still, naked with food and drinks?

Our flirty banter has continued, in fact, it’s escalated, and I ache with the need to kiss her. Hell, who am I kidding? I want to do more than kiss her; I want to do everything with her.

I haven’t had full-blown, sweaty, balls-deep sex since Bella.

I’ve been on twelve dates since the operation and before Lilah, most didn’t even result in a kiss. A few made it to the messing around stage, and one saw me get naked, but each time there was either a connection missing, or my heart wasn’t in it, or something went tits-up. More than a few went tits-up. Then, there was the issue of my Davidson. I could get hard, right up until it was time to use him, and then he deflated like a week old balloon that’s slowly been leaking air. He’d lost his mojo, and I don’t know if that was because of the way I was feeling about myself, or if it was because I was worried about the shape of my implants and the minimal scarring from my op, or if it was a combination of it all.

I’d lost everything; my soon to be fiancée, my flat, my car, my job and lastly my balls. That’s a lot of things to lose in a few short weeks, but it felt like I’d lost more than that. It felt like I’d lost myself.

That is until Lilah bunny hopped her way into my life.

The way she makes me feel is a heady experience. I’m not quite back to the old Harry; I’m a revived yet calmer version of myself, and I’m starting to like the new me.

I can’t eat naked, the crumbs get into every crevice.

I chuckle at her reply and quickly type my response.

Just think of my mouth as your own, personal Harry the Hoover. No crease will be missed out; I promise. Even the hard to reach ones ;)

Oh, God. The vision of me vacuuming up crumbs from her naked body has me rock hard. Please say yes to the Harry Brown, cleaning service.

You’ve got an answer for everything. Come over at 7pm, make sure your (hoover) batteries are fully charged. Nic is working nights, so no interruptions this time.

Hell,
yes.

I’ll bring food. Lots of food with crumbly toppings. Oh, and
Flakes,
a few packets of those. Actually, I’m Googling crumbly food as soon as I finish this text.

I pull up Google to do just that and her reply flashes on my screen as I’m about to hit search.

You’re incorrigible, Harry David Brown. L x

You make me that way, so the blame is all on you, Delilah Chastity Tremere. See you tomorrow. H x

I’m half-way through searching food porn, such as apple crumble, crumble topped banana bread, almond topped flaky pastries and breadcrumb crusted fish pie when my phone rings displaying Nate’s name on the screen.

I swipe my thumb across to answer, and he doesn’t bother with a greeting.

“I’ve got a job for you, starts next week.”

“What kind of job? I’m already moving into your place this weekend to look after it while you’re away, you’re not getting a pet or something are you? I’m not into animals, just laying that out there.”

He ignores the pet comment and continues, “The guy I use for all our computer systems has just quit. He wants to ‘find himself’,” I can hear the smirk in his voice, “So the job is yours. I would have offered it to you in the first place but at the time, you were happy where you were.”

Wow. Nate is giving me a place and a job. Not just any job, it’s a dream job.

“I want it.” The words fly from my mouth surprising myself and him. “What I meant to say is yes please, and thank you. I’d love to take the job, and I’ll work my guts out for you.”

He laughs on the other side of the line, “I know you will, H. That’s why I want you for the job. I’ll be there on Saturday to help you move into the apartment, but I’ll have to leave you Sunday as I’m flying out to Ibiza for a couple of weeks, so Matt, the manager of Acquiesce, will show you to your office on Monday and get you up to speed. Is that okay with you?”

“It’s more than okay, mate. I really appreciate it and I…” I find myself choking up with emotion, it’s been so long since things went right for me, I don’t know how to process it.

“I know, H. No need to go getting all sappy on me. You’re the best man for the job; this is a business decision and not a favour to a friend. You got this offer on your own merits.”

“Thank you,” I manage to choke out around the pathetic lump in my throat, “That means a lot.”

“See you Saturday, don’t forget to bring some hay for my new pet goat.” He deadpans. Obviously he’s heard all about Goatgate from Jake, no doubt.

“Ha-de-har-har. Laugh it up, funny boy.”

His deep laugh reverberates through the line, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’m glad to hear all the goods are still intact. That story seriously made me wince when Jake told us all about it at Sunday lunch.”

“
Great.
I’m glad to see I’m entertainment for the Fox family, even when I’m not around.”

“I promise not to goat, I mean
goad
you any further about it. See you Saturday H.”

Funny fucker.

I hang up, and do a little happy dance around my bedroom. I’m in the middle of thrusting my hips and spanking an imaginary arse when my mother appears in the doorway and stops me mid-thrust.

Her eyes light up, “Ah, the smack-my-arse dance, I guess you’ve had good news?”

“That I have Mrs Brown, that I bloody well have.” I drop my hand and launch myself at her, picking her up by the waist and spinning her around.

“Put me down you big baboon,” she laughs breathlessly.

“Can’t, I’m too excited.”

She smacks my shoulder until I release her and straightens out her hair and then her skirt. “What’s got you all hyped up like a kid on E-numbers?”

I begin to do the running man, alternating it with a bit of Gangnam style, “Because I got a bloody job, Mother. A bloody good one at that!”

Her eyes widen in surprise and then it’s her turn to launch herself at me, squeezing me tight, before releasing me and doing her own, slightly bizarre, version of the Macarena. “I knew good things were coming for you, my boy. Now maybe you can invite this girl over soon. Anyone would swear you’re ashamed of us.” Does she realise the irony of her words? She’s accusing me of being ashamed all the while she is in the middle of smacking her own arse and alternating it with a thumb suck.

“I could never be ashamed of you, Mum. Mortified, yes, ashamed, never.”

I wink at her and receive a smack across the back of my head for my cheek.

“Harry David Brown, I want you to invite Delilah over for tea within the next few weeks, or else I’ll find her and ask her myself.
That,
my son, will be the definition of mortifying, I can promise you.”

She pinches my cheek, like I’m a small boy and then leaves, rendering me speechless.

She wouldn’t dare.

Oh, yes she would.

Hey, Bunny Girl, do you want the bad news or the good news?

Good news, you can keep the bad.

I GOT A JOB!!