Page 97 of Read My Lips

“Silly question. How do you know where I live?”

“It was on your invoice.” He handed me the battered piece of paper he’d been fiddling with, standing to dust down his jeans. “You should be more careful with your things. Good job I’m an investigative reporter, isn’t it?”

I choked on my own tongue. “You are not!”

“With a good enough scoop I will be.” He leaned closer. “That’s the game plan.”

Oh shitting hell.

“How long did you say you two were together?”

Fuck everything. He had been talking about articles as well. Technology in the bedroom, and wannabe straight guys.

“I didn’t.” The universe hated me.

“No, you didn’t. In fact, you were telling me he was your boss, so I was wondering what was going on there?”

My forced grin froze. “Um…”

I’d have clobbered him over the head with my carrier bag and legged it, only I didn’t want to risk spilling the milk all over the pavement.

He leaned in whispering behind the back of his hand like he was telling secrets. “You didn’t seem up for anything kinky.”

“No. Yeah.” Sweat cooled on the back of my neck. I felt queasy.

Oh Jesus, think. Simon would kill me if I didn’t sort this out right now. “It’s this whole bit we do. Very involved.”

“Really?” Luke looked perplexed. “It didn’t have that feel to it.”

Baby Kink Monster would know.

“We’re into verisimilitude.”

“Can you spell that? Are they a band?”

I blinked. “Yes?”

The traffic in the street stopped moving all at once, like every driver on the road knew what a lying liar I was and wanted to get a good look. Or maybe it was traffic from the temporary lights down the other end.

Why wouldn’t he leave? Simon would be here any minute.

“Anyway,” I said. “Thanks for stopping by with this.” I waved my invoice at him, hoping to draw his little visit to a close.

I shouldered past, jamming my key into the lock. Scrabbling the front door open, I wedged myself inside and slammed it firm behind me. This was a planks and nails, batten down the hatches situation. Except I was objectively battenless.

“Ben. Talk to me! Five minutes is all I’m asking for.”

I winced at how loud he was being. Mrs F next door would complain to the council if he carried on much longer. Then again, I’d take a noise complaint over Gran coming across a full page exclusive with my name sprawled across the front page, detailing my kinktastic sex life.

“Go away!” I shouted.

I staggered into the kitchen and reeled right back out again at the sight of Luke rapping on the window. Why had Cathy taken the bloody blinds?

“Least you could do is give me an exclusive. Can you tell me about the roleplaying?”

“Please piss off.”

Darting for the living room, I tugged the curtain across so hard I nearly pulled the pole down. Cutting out the sun plunged the room to colourless grey. Shakily, I sank to the worn carpet, leaning against the arm of the Catford sofa. I wiped my clammy hands on my thighs. This was a disaster.