The Love of My Afterlife(18)
“Lucky!” I breathe. “Does it work?”
“I think so.”
“You think so? If I had a fireplace like that, it would be lit the whole time.”
“Even in a heat wave?”
“I’d have a cold bath first and not get dressed so that I could feel the benefits.”
His eyebrow quirks upwards a smidge.
Above the fireplace, there’s a large black-framed line drawing hanging in pride of place. It’s an ink drawing of a naked woman, posing with her back turned. It’s beautiful and more erotic than I would expect to be hanging in the living room of someone like sour-faced Cooper. I stand in front of the picture and admire it for a little longer.
“Is there something I can help you with, or did you come by to inspect my belongings?”
I spin around and point at the desk to the left of the fireplace, the one with three computer screens lighting the room with a neon glow. These computers are lit up every time I come to collect a parcel from Cooper’s flat. “You’re a computer guy, right?”
“I…yes, I suppose I am these days. Are you having trouble with your laptop? There’s a repair shop over on Queensway.”
“No…” I wander over to the computer and squint at the biggest screen in the middle. It’s covered in rows of numbers and symbols I don’t understand. “I’m here about the man I’m looking for…The…”
“The gentleman with whom you hooked up all over this town?”
I flush red. “Yes, him. I’ve been reading through the books I got from the library. The first one said that I should do a public directory search. But there were so many Jonahs in London that I got overwhelmed and didn’t know where to begin. So I wondered if you, with your computer whizzery, knew how I could hurry up the process?”
Cooper shakes his head. “I’m afraid now is not a good time. I’m busy. Perhaps in a day or two I can have a look.”
“Why did you let me in if you weren’t going to help me?”
“I didn’t know the nature of the request. Now I do.”
“I don’t have time to wait a day or two!”
Cooper folds his arms, his shirt straining across unreasonably large shoulders. “Why?”
“Um, well. I think with, uh, chlamydia, time is of the essence. I mean, I, of course, was treated immediately and am now—“
“Clean as a whistle. You mentioned.”
God. “Yes, but Jonah…He doesn’t know. And he should definitely know. It’s the responsible thing to do. I mean, you would hate it if Little Cooper was in peril and you had zero clue!”
I clamp my mouth shut, the words Little Cooper hanging horrifyingly in the air.
“Great.” Big Cooper narrows his eyes for a moment. “Okay. I think perhaps you should go. I’m sorry, Delphie, but I really do have work to do.”
He strides over to the front door and opens it.
“Please help me today. I’ll owe you. Anything you want.”
“I don’t need anything.”
“You might. One day.”
He smirks. “What do you think I might ever possibly need from you?”
I shrug. “A cup of sugar? Some candles if there’s a blackout?” I look around his living room. “You don’t seem to have any candles. I have loads of them.”
“I don’t take sugar, because I’m not twelve years old, and London hasn’t had a blackout in twenty years.”
Good lord, he is horrible. The worst. Is his rudeness towards me personal, or is he like this with everyone? No. That can’t be it. If he was this dreadful all the time, he wouldn’t have so many women hanging about. I huff loudly. “Fine. Thanks for nothing, Cooper. Don’t you dare come knocking on my door when your washing machine breaks and you need somewhere to wash your intimates.”
Why did I say intimates? Why am I saying anything? There are many reasons I keep myself to myself, and this verbal malfunction has got to be in the top five of them.
“An excruciating prospect, but somehow I think I’ll manage.” His phone buzzes with a text, and he pulls it out of his pocket, reading the screen. His other hand points at the door. We’re clearly done here.
“You’re the most obnoxious man I’ve ever encountered,” I hiss, irritation and frustration sending a lump right to my throat.
What the hell am I supposed to do next?
I spin around and march towards the door, hoping to myself that one day Cooper has a terrible urge for a hot cup of tea at daft o’clock and simply must borrow some milk, at which point I will say no. Or even better, fill a cup with gone-off milk and give him that. I have a little chuckle at the thought. I’m about to slam the door behind me when Cooper calls my name.
“Delphie, wait…”
I turn to face him, give him my best withering glare. “What?”
“There, uh, is actually something you can do for me.” He peers at his phone and frowns.
“What is it?”
Cooper closes his eyes for a brief moment. “I…Would you take a photo with me?”
I screw up my face. “You want to take my picture?”
“Um, yes. A…a selfie.”
The word selfie sounds odd coming out of his mouth, and I would bet everything I own—which admittedly is not much—that this is the first time he’s said it. His ears turn slightly pink.