Page 3 of Topped

I wasn’t sure whether to be offended, hurt, or amused.

“That’s good to know,” he said. Then his lip twitched again. “It will definitely be a lot quieter. And I won’t miss the seagulls.”

“Hey! You love them really,” I said, rushing after him. Water splashed down the side of my boots, and I pulled a face as it soaked into my socks.

“I do not! They’re pests and you know it.”

“Good thing my plan to train them didn’t work out then.”

“Thank heavens for small mercies,” Rupert said with a wry smile as we rounded the corner, the rain still pouring down on us.

He paused for a second, twisting the shaft of his umbrella in his hand. “If you do need anything over the winter, obviously, I can always check in on things for you.”

“Cheers. I mean, I’ll still pop down. And Alfie will be around too. We’re not gonna totally abandon the place for three months.”

“Oh, yes. That makes sense.” Another pause. “Well, goodbye then. I mean, er, see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” I said as he walked towards the back door of the shop, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

Huh. He’d never said that before.

It was practically an invitation.

I knew where I was going to be in the morning.

Smiling to myself, I headed into Lick It!, realising a split second too late that the back door was already open. And Alfie was sitting at his desk, staring at me with horrified eyes as I pulled my hat off.

“Jesus Christ, Milo, what happened to you?!”

Well, fuck.

Chapter Two

Rupert

Oh my God, could I have been any more… well, me? At this point I might as well go and live out on the moors as a hermit with only the sheep for company. At least they wouldn’t think I was rude and awkward as fuck.

Unless it turned out sheep were actually incredibly judgemental. Then I’d be in trouble.

I groaned and rubbed my face as I leant against the inside of the back door of the shop, dislodging my glasses and smearing the lenses with my knuckles. “You are such an idiot,” I muttered to myself. “He wasn’t saying you were uptight and overdramatic. He was talking about Darcy. And now you’ve fucked everything up. Again!”

The ache in my chest and the insidious voice in my head begged to differ though. After all, why would Milo have mentioned Darcy being overdramatic if he didn’t have a reference point? Clearly, I made him think about other people who were overdramatic, which meant he thought I was.

But Milo hadn’t said it like it was a bad thing. Not completely.

I mean, it clearly bothered him, but it didn’t seem like a huge issue. More like, it was part of who Darcy was and Milo was used to it.

It didn’t mean he’d accept it in anyone else though.

And while I was on that subject, I shouldn’t have mentioned Darcy being dramatic in the first place. That was horrifically rude and judgy of me, especially since Darcy had been nothing but kind and considerate since he’d taken over the lease next door.

“Rupert, darling, it’s ten o’clock on a Thursday morning, it’s too early for you to have a meltdown.” Norman’s sharp words cut through my spiralling thoughts, and I looked up to see my shop assistant looking at me with a kind but no-nonsense smile. “Especially if it’s over that man with the heinous haircut and moustache.”

I chuckled as I straightened up, put my glasses back into place, and started to remove my coat. “He’s shaved it all off, even the moustache. He said he was bored.”

“Really? How does that look?” Norman raised a grey eyebrow, an amused expression playing across his softly wrinkled face.

Norman was well into his eighties, although he refused to give me his actual age, and the sharpest, sassiest, and most fabulous man I’d ever met. He was effortlessly stylish, always put together, and never without a cutting word, which he invariably maintained was the best accessory a man could have.