Page 20 of The Best Number

“That sounds fantastic.”

He kisses me on the lips before heading over to the kitchen area. I watch him as he pulls out ingredients and a frying pan and he’s soon whisking up a pancake batter—looking gorgeous as fuck with a whisk in his hand and shirtless. I am most definitely having inappropriate thoughts as I open up the notes app on my phone. It’s a place where I drop random questions and thoughts as I think of them. I add one about the shirtless pancake-making, wondering if I can get it into my story, and then go back to watching Tom.

Chapter ten

Cassidy

Tom is pouring pancake batter into the pan when I hear banging from the hallway. And then I realise someone is banging on my door.Who the fuck is that?“Cassidy… open this door!”

My heart sinks as I recognise the owner of the voice. My ex, Grant.Dammit.

“Fuck.”What to do? Should I go out there and brazen it out? Or hope he will realise I’m not answering and leave? How the fuck did he get into the building, anyway?He’s still relentlessly banging, and he’s going to disturb the neighbours. I have to get him to shut up and bugger off. I glance across to the kitchen. Tom is clearly in the zone with his pancake making and he doesn’t seem to hear the disturbance from down the hall.

I ease up from the couch, rounding it towards the door. I pull the security chain off and open the door. Yep, there he is. My miserable excuse for an ex, trying to bang a hole in my front doorto get my attention. I step into the hallway and pull Jack’s door over, but don’t close it.

“Grant,” I whisper shout across the hall. He whips around and stares at me.

“I thought you were flat twenty-one?” He has a frown on his face, confused that I have just stepped out of a door with number twenty-two on it.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

“You weren’t answering the buzzer, so I came in when someone else came out the front door.” He’s eyeing me over and I look down, realising I’m wearing Jack’s oversized robe.

“What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering any of my calls. I need to talk to you.” He steps closer. “Let’s go inside and talk.” He reaches to push Jack’s door open over my head.

I stomp my foot at his high-handedness. This man and his pushiness make me petty. I no longer have to do what he says. Not that I was ever that good at that, anyway. I much prefer Tom’s dominance. I know that, from Tom, it’s coming from a decent place.

“No.” I glare at him. “What’s so urgent that you had to come over at 8.30 am on a Saturday?”

“I got the divorce papers. Look, let’s just be adults about this. Let me in and we can talk it over without your neighbours overhearing.”

No fucking way.I’m not about to tell him this isn’t my place, but I also don’t have the key for my own apartment on me. It’s inside Jack’s flat, in my bag, which is sitting on the couch. I have to get rid of him.

“Look, Grant, now really isn’t a good time. Go home and I’ll call you later.”

He laughs in my face. “No, you fucking won’t, you flaky bitch. When did you ever do anything when you said you would?”

“I’m great at doing things I say I’ll do, Grant. Just not when it’s an arsehole asking, with no regard or respect for me.”

I take a deep breath, readying my next scathing reply when I feel movement at my back. I look round to see Tom stepping out, still only wearing his pyjama bottoms.

“Everything okay, Cassidy?” His eyes are clouded with concern.

Dammit. I really don’t want to get into this. Bloody Grant.

“I’m fine, Tom. Thanks for checking. I’ll be inside in a moment.”

Grant’s face reddens. “So, this is why you’ve been ignoring the door and your phone because you’re shacked up with some guy?”

I close my eyes in disgust, trying to calm myself. There’s no good to come from arguing with this man or trying to make him see sense. I just need to get rid of him. Tom’s hand comes up to my shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze of support. I appreciate it, but I really don’t want him involved in this conversation.

“You can see that I’m busy, Grant. I will call you later. How does 2 pm sound? We can discuss the papers then and work out what happens next?”

He looks ready to argue, his gaze flicking between Tom and me. Tom doesn’t say anything, but I look over my shoulder and see his furious glare as he looks Grant dead in the eye. I guess he overheard some of the conversation and clocked that this was my ex.

“Fine. I expect a call no later than 2 pm.”