London Bound: New Adult Romance (Chase Brothers)

by Malone, Nana

  Xander stood in front of the class. “Good afternoon, my intrepid photographers. Today is a great day to tell stories with our art.” He was clearly jazzed, but so far, he was the only one feeling that energy. Everyone else had that wrinkled brow, teeth-gnawing-on-lip look.

  “So, have I got a volunteer?”

  Nobody moved, as if terrified that even the slightest movement of a scratched nose would symbolize a desire to get flambéed by Xander first. Surreptitiously, Abbie’s classmates slid glances at each other. Still, nobody dared move.

  Xander jumped up and down twice, but his gaze never met Abbie’s. “C’mon, gang. There has to be someone brave enough. I promise, it’s not that bad. I’ve obviously taken a cursory look at these. Some were quite good. Others not so much. But we’ll get to that. Remember, this is so you can learn.”

  Abbie’s foot began its tapping routine again, and next to her Ilani groaned.

  Abbie held her breath. If she went first, she could spend the rest of the class lamenting her situation instead of pretending to look at her classmates’ pieces but not really seeing them because her brain was too filled with Alexi.

  Her hand moved almost of its own volition as it slowly rose into the air. She cleared her throat. “I’ll go first.”

  Xander nodded happily. “That’s the ticket. I really would have been cross to have to select the first of you. And I don’t think anybody likes me in a cross mood.”

  On wooden legs, Abbie went to the laptop and the projector. The actual physical works were already in the student gallery hall. The university liked to open every Friday evening for exhibitions. They charged five pounds at the door. It also helped young, unknown artists get discovered.

  She turned to face her classmates, and Ilani gave her an encouraging smile with a thumbs up signal. Her stomach rolled. Now would be a hell of a time to throw up. She was pretty sure that would piss Xander off more than having to select someone else to go first. Then she thought of something Alexi had said. He thought she was brave. He said he didn’t know anyone who’d uprooted their life without a safety net. Maybe he was right.

  Abbie drew in a deep breath and stepped to the side with the remote. Xander hit the lights, and the image of the kids dancing in the market filled the screen. One in a lime green jumpsuit hung suspended in air, his knees bent and his arms back, his face a mask of both aggression and joy. That was, in its essence, krumping. Working out aggression and expressing emotion. She walked the class through where the photos had been taken and the scenario for the next few market shots. Then she let the photo speak for itself. She repeated the process for all twelve of the works she’d selected.

  Yesterday, Alexi had wanted far more in-depth knowledge of every single photo. He’d been sucked in by each one.

  When she got to the last four photos, she bit back a secret smile. The Brixton Gold shots. “I’d selected Brixton as a destination for these gritty, urban life photos in particular because I have a small obsession with the soul music that came out of England in the sixties and seventies. It’s the music I grew up on. I wanted to see music row and see some of the old studios.” When she showed the exterior of Brixton Gold, her classmates murmured appreciation. “I also got the opportunity to go inside and shoot some photos while they were recording.” She flicked to the first image of the rapper Lady Jane in the booth. Then she changed the image to one of the sound engineer as he’d been rocking out to the song. The joy was obvious in his expression.

  When she was done, Xander turned the lights back on, and she headed back to her seat. He stared at her for several long moments, and she shifted under his scrutiny.

  When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “Can anybody tell me what Abbie’s image made you feel?”

  Immediately, people around her called out emotions like joy, energy, enthusiasm. Someone else just said wow. She flushed. She’d never had this kind of response to her work. Hell, she’d never even shown many people her work aside from doing what it took to get offered a program like this. Xander gave her a little bow. “Miss Nartey, your work is exemplary. Even I’m impressed, and I’m not impressed by anything.”

  Holy cow. Had she actually pulled this off? Was she a real life photographer? Stunned into silence, all she could do was nod and try desperately not to cry.

  As soon as the attention turned from her, she breathed a sigh of relief. The first person she thought of to call was Alexi. Of course, that would have to wait until she got home.

  For the rest of class, Abbie tried desperately to pay attention to the work of her classmates, but her mind kept wandering. The only person who’s work she did make it a point to focus on was Ilani’s. She’d turned into a friend, and Abbie would at least give her that much respect. Though Ilani’s critique had not been nearly as positive as Abbie’s, neither had it been scathing.

  When she returned to her seat, she slouched and threw her head back. “Was that as awful as it felt?”

  Abbie aimed for something that would make her feel better. “You’re exaggerating. You did fine.”

  “I eeked out of that one by the skin of my teeth. The next assignment has to go better. I wonder what it is.”

  Xander turned the light on after the last critique. “As Miss Bruce is asking in the back…”

  Ilani slunk down further in her seat.

  “Your next assignment is to photograph love in any form or all of its forms. I want to see it. And while nudes are an important part of photography and art, for this particular assignment, please leave the nudie shots out. I want to make sure you can capture the raw emotion properly before we start going into risqué territory.”

  Ilani leaned in and whispered, “I’d like to get into his risqué territory, if you catch my meaning.” She winked.

  Abbie couldn’t help a giggle. “You’re terrible. Besides, you heard him. He’s not looking to be seduced by any of his students.”

  Ilani shook her head. “I think he doth protest too much. I heard the rule was set by the administration.”

  Abbie eyed her. “You’re trouble.”

  Ilani grinned just as Xander clapped his hands together. “Okay, so who’s up for a drink? My treat. You’ve all survived your first critique. You’ve lived to be critiqued another day.”

  Abbie checked the time. Class had gone long, and it was already nearing ten. But she didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to get to know her classmates better.

  “Got somewhere you’d rather be?” Ilani prompted.

  “No. Just have to deal with some things back home.” Evan had left five messages and even called Sophie trying to get a hold of her. And considering he and Sophie didn’t get along, that was saying something. She would kill her mother for giving him a way to contact her. Next time she ran away from home, she wouldn’t be leaving a forwarding address or phone number. “But you know what? It can wait until tomorrow.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Abbie smiled to herself as she watched the revelry around her. This is what she’d imagined when she’d wanted to come to school in London. Sitting in the pub with friends, her new classmates, having a Guinness. She couldn’t believe her life now. The mild pang through her heart jolted her. She wasn’t going to think about it or the reason she was here. She’d just enjoy it.

  Xander sauntered back to the table, carrying another pitcher for the small group. Ilani sat next to her, and Maxim, a lanky, blond Swede sat across from her, Andrew next to him. He was British like Ilani. Amy, the South African, had bounded over to the Karaoke stand and was picking out a song.

  The five of them comprised the majority of the students who’d lived through Xander’s critique that night with passable grades. Abbie had a feeling that that was something rare enough to be celebrated.

  When Xander sat, Ilani crowded him. Amy trod back to the table, looking disappointed. “They didn’t have that new Beyoncé song, so I’m not in the mood anymore.” She too, immediately sidled up to Xander.

  Abbie just shook her head. It
was like they couldn’t really help themselves. He’d made it clear he wasn’t going to date a student, but still, they trotted out their wares, hoping for a bite. Amy insisted on dressing like a Kardashian with her too tight, too short, too cleavage-bearing clothes and pounds of makeup. Abbie didn’t have a problem with the clothes. Hell, some of them were even cute. But for school and class, where they’d most likely be hunched over light tables and viewers, it made no sense. And then there was Ilani. Her friend had a more subtle approach. She’d toned down the clothes, but her make-up was still expertly done, and Abbie noted that she wore perfume. It made Abbie want to laugh.

  This was Xander Chase they were talking about. He dated supermodels. Neither of them stood a chance. But she wasn’t going to burst their bubbles.

  Not that Abbie was completely immune to Xander. She wasn’t dead, and he was pretty to look at. Not to mention he had this lazy, casual, sex appeal to him that would make any sane woman stop and blink a few times. But that was it. For her, it was like watching a beautiful landscape that someone else photographed. All of the beauty without any of the connection. Her mind was already consumed with the other Chase brother.

  As she drank Guinness and chatted with Maxim, she started to relax, the tension rolling out of her shoulders. Xander’s low voice from directly behind her startled her so badly she jolted and spilled her Guinness on her hand.

  He chuckled. “You’ll have to be careful. To the Irish that’s a punishable offense.”

  “Yeah, I’ll remember that.” Grabbing a handful of napkins, she wiped off her hand and the table.

  “Did you have fun the other night at my brother’s party?”

  Abbie shoulders stiffened as she turned to face him, unsure what to say. Last time they’d talked about his brother, he’d warned her off. “Yeah, it was fun. Could have been better.”

  His slate gray eyes narrowed on hers. “Oh, yeah, why’s that?”

  Her temper sparked. “Some asshat irritated me and told me to stay away from a friend of mine. He was a bit of a prick.”

  Xander’s eyes narrowed, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. That kind of scrutiny from him was enough to put any woman in a stupor. She shifted uncomfortably. Looking around, she noted Ilani giving her a raised eyebrow, and Amy throwing death darts with her eyes.

  “That prick notwithstanding, I’m sure you enjoyed the velvet rope party.”

  She shrugged. “I’m not really the private party person. I’m a rule-follower by nature, so I think the line or the queue is there for a reason.”

  Xander’s eyes crinkled, and his laugh was rich and low. “Well, we’ll see if you still feel the same way after you’ve been here a while. You keep hanging with that crew, you’ll start insisting you won’t fly commercial.”

  She tried to remind herself he wasn’t making character assassinations. He just didn’t know her other than her photographs. “You don’t know me.” She sliced him a look. He was picking at her, and she didn’t know why, but it was rude.

  Another flare of righteous indignation had her tongue loosening again. “And what’s your deal? Want to tell me why you were telling me to stay away from your brother?”

  Gone was the cocksure swagger to his expression. Instead, an impassive mask replaced it. “I’d like my students to keep focus, and Lex has a way of making girls lose focus on things.”

  She could see that it must run in the family. “Well, I’m not looking to lose focus. I’m here to work.” The words tasted bitter on her tongue and sounded just as acerbic to her ear.

  Xander scrutinized her again. “Who wounded our Little Bird?”

  Abbie ground her teeth. “Nobody. And I’m not a Little Bird.”

  “Whatever you say.” He sipped his beer, then said, “But I saw you come down from the roof together, and then I saw him dancing with you. Well, I should say more like slowly fucking you on the dance floor, so I assumed you two had a thing going. I’m a little protective.”

  Fury bubbled just under the surface of her skin. She considered throwing her Guinness into his face, but then he was a male, so that had probably been done before and wouldn’t faze him. She also considered grabbing the pitcher and bashing it into his head like she’d seen done in movies. But unlikely it was breakaway glass, and she doubted Tamsin had that kind of bail money. Besides, Abbie was way too cute for jail. Instead, she leveled a gaze at him. “He was the birthday boy, he asked me to dance. So I did. Haven’t you ever danced before?”

  His gaze flickered to her lips and he leaned in an inch closer as if to whisper a secret to her. “Maybe you should dance with me and see if I’ve managed to pick up the skill.”

  Was that flirting? It sounded like flirting. He had the nerve to act like she wanted something from Alexi, and then asked her to dirty dance with him? Okay, maybe she would bash his head in with the pitcher, breakaway glass or not. “Maybe, except I don’t engage in inappropriate relationships with my teachers. It’s not how I roll.”

  He kept silent, and she promptly turned her attention back to Maxim. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ilani fanning herself. She was sure to have some questions later.

  For what felt like hours, Abbie kept her back resolutely to Xander. She knew he was still there and knew he still watched her simply because the hairs on the back of her neck stayed at attention. Then one minute, the razor sharp attention was gone. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew he’d stopped focusing on her. He didn’t attempt to speak to her again until she grabbed her coat to catch the last bus heading toward Chiswick.

  “Going home so soon?”

  “Well, I do have this professor with a stick up his ass, so I have to wake up at the crack of dawn to get him some decent pictures.”

  He smirked. “This professor of yours sounds like a pompous dick. You should have him sacked immediately.”

  Abbie shook her head. “Nah, it would just inflate his ego.” What the hell was wrong with her? This was the man who could fuck up her grades. She shouldn’t be bantering with him. “Goodnight, Xander,” she said politely, very well aware that the remaining stragglers of their party watched them with keen interest.

  “Goodnight, Little Bird. Your work today was promising.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you said it was better than promising.”

  “Somebody was paying attention in class.”

  “Well, I am here to learn.”

  Slate eyes studied her intently, and she squirmed under the scrutiny.

  “My only concern is what you’re learning, and who’s teaching you those lessons.”

  Chapter 20

  For the first time in two weeks, it wasn’t a night terror that woke Lex out of a sound sleep. It was thumping on his door.

  “Lex, open up.” More thumping.

  Lex rubbed his eyes and staggered out of bed. What the hell was wrong with his brother?

  When he shuffled to the front door he was thankful for the small favor that Gemma hadn’t stayed the night. He yanked the door open and glared at, from the smell of it, a very drunk Xander. “What the hell is going on? What are you doing here?”

  “What, I can’t see my little brother anytime I want?”

  Lex stepped back to let him in. “Jesus, mate, you smell like a pub.”

  “That’s because I’ve spent the better part of the evening in one.”

  Lex frowned. “I thought you had class tonight?”

  “I did. First critique. It was brutal.”

  Lex put on the water for coffee and snagged a bottle of water from the fridge. He tossed the water at his brother, who caught it with more agility than his condition should have allowed for. “I think you have this all wrong, Xan. When you give a brutal crit, it’s the student who’s supposed to go get pissed at the pub and drink his sorrows away, not the teacher.” He crossed his arms as he leaned back on the kitchen island. “Come to think of it, they didn’t see you like this, did they?”

  Xander wavered on his feet a little.
“Don’t be stupid. I waited till they all left then got proper pissed on the good stuff. I might like my students, but I wasn’t going to buy them all sodding scotch.”

  Lex eyed Xander’s leaning frame and yanked a stool under him, shoving him into a sitting position. “Why the scotch, Xander?”

  “Because I felt like it. Now piss off.”

  “You’re the one who showed up on my doorstep, remember?” How the hell had the two of them gotten so screwed up? You know how. They were close, but the one thing they couldn’t talk about was the one thing tearing each of them up on the inside. The night he’d killed a man to save his brother. A life for a life.

  “Where else would I go, but to my savior?” Xander pushed himself up off the stool, weaving into the living area before finally collapsing onto the couch.

  Lex winced as he watched his brother fall. Nothing made him feel worse than when Xander referred to him as his savior. It reminded Lex of exactly the kind of human being he was. The kind of man who had let his brother take the blame for something he’d done. No, they never did talk about that night.

  “You can have the spare room, Xan. You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

  Xander rolled over and gave him a wicked smile. “I would hate to intrude on Gemma’s space, in case she comes over tonight.” Xander grabbed a pillow and plastered it over his face. “You can’t have them both, Lex.” The pillow muffled his voice, but Lex felt every word like a blow. “I’ll make you a deal. You take Gemma and leave Little Bird for me.”

  So that’s what this was about? Abbie. Xander wanted Abbie. “Did something happen with Abbie tonight?” As much as he loved his brother, he wasn’t above giving him a good going over.

  “She’s already half in love with you, you know?”

  Lex stilled. “What are you on about, Xan?”