Bad Boy vs Millionaire

By: Candy J. Starr

“This is a car park, right?” I asked as we pulled into a tiny space between two houses that seemed to be held together with unpainted wood and rusted corrugated iron.

Tamaki nodded.

“But there’s only two parking spots. Don’t they belong to the houses?”

Tamaki seemed confused by my question. Well, if he was wrong and his car got towed away, it wouldn’t be my problem.

The car slid into the parking space easily, despite the narrow space. It was a very nice car, I had to admit. Very modern with the gadgetry of a space ship. I wouldn't have been surprised if it could drive itself. Maybe he should've set it to circle the block while we went shopping.

I figured he'd be more of a drag than an asset on the shopping trip. At least he could carry my stuff. I'd seen about six shops at least I wanted to check out, including one men's store that would have super awesome stuff for the band. If I bought band stuff during this trip, could I write it off on tax? Maybe not, since Dad was paying for everything anyway.

“These streets are a maze. I hope we can make it back to the car.”

“You have GPS on your phone, don't you?” What a thing to worry about. I looked around. The streets were very twisty but the sun shone down and it made me feel like just around the corner could be an adventure waiting to happen. I really had nothing to worry about. I needed a few days of chilling out. Shopping and sightseeing. Being with Tamaki wasn’t a hardship either, even if he didn’t seem to have much of a sense of humour. Who needs humour when you have that smile and those cheekbones? A nice holiday and then I could go back to normal.

Except there was no normal. There was no home. I'd left all my stuff, except for my two suitcases, with Angie to look after until I returned.

What was home then?

The image that flashed into my mind was the strong arms wrapped around me at the train station. Just when life was at its shittiest, when I thought I'd lost everything, he came out of nowhere. I hadn't even questioned him at first, just let his arms surround me, feeling him crush me into him. I had been oblivious to everything, even the beeping of the train door until my legs got squished and the doors banged painfully into my thighs.

I'd screamed, anchoring myself to Jack Colt. He’d prised the doors open and set me free. I had nothing worse than a nasty bruise on my leg but I collapsed in relief from the shock.

I'd leaned against his chest, gasping for breath and maybe even whimpering a little. He held me until I felt safe. Then the manager side of my brain kicked in and I realised he should be in the television studio giving the performance of his life instead of rescuing me.

Is that what I wanted to return to? Because mixed up with those gooey feelings of his strong arms and the comfort of his chest, were the demons sticking pitchforks in my brain. Those forks reminded me that he'd betrayed my trust. I could never take anything he said or did at face value.

As we walked around the corner, a narrow street of shops appeared before us. I grinned at the potential. I wanted to pull out my camera and take photos but I thought it might be a bit dorky and touristy. Still, these shops were so incredibly cute, especially the one with the whitewashed front and all the baskets of fake flowers adding a riot of colour. And all the signs around me with random English words made me grin.

“Hey, shops. I need to buy things. Then I need to drink more coffee then I need to buy more things. That's my plan.”

Tamaki smiled at me. The kind of smile you give an indulged child, which would have annoyed me except I intended to use him as a pack horse for all my shopping.

I ran into the first shop I came to, exclaiming at the awesomeness of everything. I picked up a skirt to try on while ducking under a tree branch suspended from the ceiling.

“Um, Hannah, you realise that skirt is… “ He lowered his head as if to tell me something shocking, “… second-hand.”

I flinched for a moment but the skirt was really cute and I was sure it'd been washed before they put it in the shop. Anyway, if I came home with cool vintage shit, Angie would go gaga.

“You… you might get a rash or something. At least buy it without trying it on then you can make sure it's clean before you get home.”

Something about the way he said it made me want to put the skirt on and wear it all day.

I looked around for the counter or a sales assistant but couldn't see either. There was a table that might be considered a counter, covered in buttons and badges and, slap-bang in the middle, sat a stuffed owl. I walked over and a girl popped up with bright blue hair and a chain running from her nose piercing to her ear. It made me realise that I'd not seen people with piercings or tattoos or anything like that since I'd got there.

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