A/N: Boo...I go back to work on Monday.  Where has the summer gone? Just telling everyone because it will be hard to write at the pace I've been going.  I actually have to...work and stuff and things.  And I'm getting married in October, so that is happening! LOL! Busy. 

Thanks for all the reads and comments, and I will continue to write as much and as fast as I can.  I will say Crumbs is about 80% finished at this point.  Love you alllll! Also, is anyone else dying over all the High Rise set pictures? I literally can't sleep at night because of them.  WHY NOT MEEEE.  That man....

“I’ll give you twenty dollars if you make me something to eat.” I mumble into Tom’s chest, then open my mouth and gnaw gently on his ribs.  He laughs and puts a big, warm hand around my chin.

“We’re in London. I need pounds, not dollars.” He laughs and strokes softly under my chin and down my neck.  I groan and lick his side, then scoot up so I am lying next to him.  His bed is even better than it looks, and we are nestled into it, the blankets surrounding us like a cocoon.  I never want to leave.  Tom is on his back with one arm around me.  His eyes are closed and he looks terribly comfortable and relaxed. 

“Well then I will do terrible, naughty, depraved things to you if you’ll find me some food.” I say, my voice low and rumbly.  It’s nearly half past two in the morning, and I can’t remember the last time I ate today.  I had much more important things to do than eat…like fly to London and shag Tom silly. I run my fingers lazily down his chest, running my finger tips over the swell of muscles and smooth skin.  He groans, a low vibration deep in his throat.

“You’ve already done terrible, naughty, depraved things.” He tips his head back into the pillow.  I grin and dig my chin into his chest.

“Please…” I walk my fingers down past his navel, and then brush the backs of my knuckles against his hips.  I feel that lovely bone there, the way it slides downward toward his groin, and I let my fingers follow that pathway.  Tom tenses and I stop my hand just above where I can feel the light, soft hair on his lower stomach get a bit coarser.

“Please.” I whimper again.  He grabs my hand and shoots out of bed, sitting up quickly.

“Do you want to wait here, or shall I serve you, darling?” He looks down at me and winks.  I grin and sit up, pulling the blanket off the bottom of the bed as I do.

“I’ll come with you.” I nod and wrap the blanket around me.  Tom nods and stands up, completely naked and starts toward the door.  The man has no shame.  I stay sitting on the edge of the bed, unable to move.  I will never, ever, ever get used to seeing him naked. Ever.

“I think I have stuff for sandwiches and there’s leftover curry.  Or I can make you an omelette.” He turns around, looking over his shoulder at me when he notices I haven’t left my spot in bed.

“Omelette would be good.” I nod.

“Come on then, lazy, you can help me chop.  Or you can just sit and watch.” He leans down to pick up his boxers on the floor.  They are over in the corner where I flung them a few hours earlier. 

“Oh, I’ll sit and watch.” I say softly under my breath.  He looks up at me, bent over slightly and gives me an eyeful.  He pats his stomach playfully, and then stands up straight. 

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He smiles and then turns and disappears into the bathroom that’s behind him.  His bathroom is just as amazing as the rest of his home.  There’s a lovely, big claw foot tub and an enclosed glass shower.  He has a large wooden vanity with double sinks, and a big window that overlooks the back garden, which I could only partially see due to the yellowish glow of the street lamps.

I take a second to look around his bedroom, taking in what I had failed to notice earlier.  I’d been a little too busy…ah. Besides the big, amazingly comfy bed, there’s a huge floor to ceiling mirror to the right side.  It looks more like a massive picture frame that’s curved at the top, and it’s leaning up against the floor and wall.  Not that I’d noticed, but holy donuts, it is perfectly placed to see yourself while in bed.  I turn red just thinking about it.

There’s a fabric covered bench over in the corner, and a bureau to the side.  I walk over, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders and look at the top of his bureau.  He has a framed photograph of his family- his mother, father and two sisters.  There’s a few odds and ends including some cologne, his watch, his phone and a few coins.  I pick up the bottle of cologne, sniffing the top and then I spritz it lightly onto my arm.  It smells like him and I smile.  I make note of the brand, and then I turn around to make my way to the kitchen.  As I’m about to walk around, his phone starts vibrating against the wooden bureau top. 

“Tom, someone’s calling you. Or texting you.” I call over my shoulder.  He makes a noncommittal noise from the bathroom, and I turn and glance down at his phone.

He has his phone set up so that when he receives a text message, it displays the message contents on the front lock screen.  I’m not trying to be nosy.  It just sort of happens.  I don’t even touch his phone and I can see he’s received a text. My mouth goes dry when I see who has messaged him.

Keegan Moore: It was so good seeing you the other night. I miss you, Tom.

I stare at his phone for a few seconds, until the screen goes dark.  Did I read that wrong? I had to have read that wrong.  I pick up his phone and hold it in my hand for a second, before putting it back down on the table.  I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but…I’m basically gonna just jump so far and hard that I’m throwing myself off the cliff here.  I feel my heart plummet to my feet

Tom is now singing softly in the bathroom, something I don’t recognize but it’s upbeat and silly and I suddenly feel as if I’m going to be sick.  He saw Keegan? And he didn’t tell me.  And it was enough that she decided to text him about it.  I feel sort of terrible for reading his text message, but it isn’t exactly like I snooped.  It was right there!

I turn quickly and throw the blanket on the bed, looking frantically for my underwear.  If I’m going to ask him about the woman he used to be in love with still texting him, I should probably be wearing my knickers.  I find them on the floor, and I yank them on.  I can hear water running in the bathroom, and Tom sounds as if he’ll be out any minute.  I pull on my tshirt from earlier just as he walks out.  He’s brushing his teeth, and he’s got one hand on his narrow hip and the other on his toothbrush.

“Did you say something, sweet?” He asks, out of the side of his mouth.  I look up at him, and I know it must be written all over my face.

 “You got a text.” I say quietly and quickly, not wanting my voice to shake.  Tom nods and keeps brushing, his eyes on me.

“Okay.  I was thinking we could go to the London Eye tomorrow, if you’d like.  I could get us tickets online in a bit.  I think they even have a deal where you can drink champagne and eat chocolate.  That would be cool, right? We could get sloshed and then be tourists.” He grins, his toothbrush sticking out of the side of his mouth. 

“Sure.” I shake my head.  Forks. I want to grab the toothbrush out of his stupid mouth and smack him on the head with it.  Say something, Charlie.  Say something.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to go, I just thought you said you wanted to.” He says easily.  He turns and goes back into the bathroom, and I hear him run the water again.  A few seconds later, he comes back out and walks over to me, taking me by the hips.  He leans down and kisses me, and his mouth tastes minty and cool. 

I put my hands against his chest and push him away gently.  I reach over to the bureau and grab his phone, putting it in his hand.  He looks at me quizzically, unsure why I’m handing him his phone.

“Keegan texted you.” I say quickly, trying to make my voice light and casual.

“Did she?” He frowns at me, looking confused and perhaps annoyed.  He looks down and turns on his phone.  He reads the text quickly, his brow furrowed.

 “Tom, did you see Keegan the other night?” I ask softly and I can’t look at him while I do.  How do you go from best friend who doesn’t have a right to get jealous to…something more?  Whatever we are doing now, I feel as if the lines are blurred. I feel like one of those crazy women.  The crazy girlfriend with no trust in her man.  Except I trust Tom, right?  I’ve trusted him completely.  So now what?  I hate it.  Next thing you know, I’ll be throwing his clothes out the window and using a nine iron to smash his car windows.  Not the Jag though, I’d never hurt that beautiful, lovely thing.

Tom swallows, and it’s as if a cloud passes over his eyes.  They clear and he looks at me, upset.

“I did. I ran into her on the tube on the way back from my meetings.  She’s here for the event.  We barely spoke.” He takes a step back and crosses his lean arms over his chest. “Charlie, I promise you, we barely spoke.  She actually asked me about you…” He sighs and sets his phone back down on the bureau.  “I’m sorry, I’m such a prat.  I should have told you but I just didn’t think it…” He trails off then takes both my hands in his.  I hate the way I feel, but it is hard not to.  The last time he saw Keegan, they kissed.  And he’d told me about that.  And I’d wanted to stab him with a fork.  Now he’s seen her again, and has somehow forgotten to tell me.  I don’t know what’s worse.

“Okay.” I nod and force a smile.  Tom groans and pushes a hand through his hair.

“You believe me, right? I didn’t know I’d see her.  We were together for all of two stops and then I was off.” He bends his knees and takes me gently by the hips.  He leans forward, pouting slightly.  I try not to smile and then knock him gently with my shoulder.  I believe him, I have to.  He’s never lied to me before.

“You’re a jerk.  You should have told me.” I sigh.  He leans forward and wraps his long arms around me.  I give in, burying my face against his bare chest.

“I know.” He breathes. “Are you…wearing my cologne?” He whispers.  I groan and pinch his sides.

“Maybe.” I roll my eyes.

“It smells good on you.  Is it weird that it turns me on a little.  Like marking my territory.” He teases.  I dig my fingers into his sides and let him kiss me sloppily on the lips.

“It is weird.  And don’t change the subject.” I mutter against his mouth.  He nods.  “Since you failed to tell me you saw her, you better make me the best omelette ever.” I push him away and brush past him toward the door.  He follows quickly after me.

“Yes, best omelette ever, I promise.” He nods.

We make our way down to the kitchen, beginning to talk about what we have planned for the rest of the few days we are in town.  He has a whole list of things we can do.  I listen, and try to feel normal.  I tell the gnawing feeling in my stomach to go away, pushing it far, far back in my mind. 

****

It has been a busy morning, and thankfully, that has kept me from thinking too much about Keegan’s text message.  Tom insisted we go to the London Eye, and so he bought us tickets online after we’d eaten omelettes standing up in his kitchen.  There is something endearing and hilarious about watching him try to buy tickets on his iPhone, shirtless in his kitchen in the wee hours, while somewhat sleep deprived.  He had to try three separate times before the transaction went through.  There was some cursing involved, and there’s a possibility he bought enough tickets for a small country.

We somehow manage to wake up at a somewhat normal time, and leave the apartment around noon.  Despite not falling asleep til after 3am, and then Tom getting rather frisky in the shower that morning, I’m proud of us for being able to get out at a decent hour. I get to see the Thames, and Tom points out things as we pass by them.  We stop by a shop to get a quick breakfast and coffee.  We eventually get to the London Eye, and we manage to get a bit intoxicated on champagne. 

He plays it cool, but I can tell he is drunk because we can’t stop giggling once we are in one of the pods.  He keeps insisting on narrating the whole experience as if we are entering space.  I know I’m rather tipsy because his Star Trek impressions are becoming entirely too funny.  They’re not that funny, really. But he keeps whispering in my ear and he does a pretty good Captain Kirk. I keep doing my terrible snort laugh, which just eggs him on.

He gets a few dirty looks from an older grandmother type when he shout whispers something to me about probing the undiscovered realms of deep space.  After he gets a dirty look, I pull his hood up over his head and press my hand to his mouth. 

“Tom.” I say in a warning voice, but I can’t stop giggling.  He’s laughing, and I feel his smile press against my palm.  The ride has ended, and our pod door opens, and we start to file out with the rest of the small crowd.  Tom wraps an arm around my waist and leans close to my ear.

“Darling, have you ever made love inside a spaceship?” He asks, his words muffled under my hand, his blue eyes bright and happy.

“Darling, have you ever been kicked off of a spaceship?” I laugh and grab both of his hands, holding them at his sides so they can’t roam.

“I have a surprise for you.” He grins, then wiggles his eyebrows.  I roll my eyes.  We keep walking.  It is a surprisingly lovely day in London.  It’s cool and breezy, and though the sky is a bit overcast, it is still blue and cheery.

“If it’s in your pants, I don’t want it.” I mumble and then Tom looks at me horrified.

“You’re a pervert.  You’re completely perverted.” He scoffs and looks at me as if I’ve just said something disgusting.  My jaw drops and I shake my head.

“You just told me seconds ago you want to probe me in outer space.” I jab him in the stomach and he grins.

“Doesn’t everyone want to be probed in outer space?” He raises an eyebrow.  I shrug.

“I suppose so.”

“Do you want to know the surprise or not?” He laughs.

“Yes, fine.” I nod.  We walk arm in arm down the street, wandering somewhat aimlessly.  I know we will have to head back to the apartment in a few hours to start getting ready for the event, but for now I am perfectly content strolling through London with this man.

We keep walking down the road, passing by shops and restaurants.  Tom stops in front of one and then raises an arm, ushering me toward the door.  I look at him, and then step back to see where we are.  The front of the store is glass and brick, an old restored building like most of the shops nearby.

“What is this?” I ask.

“I booked you a spa day.” He grins and grabs the front door, opening it for me.  I open and close my mouth a few times, doing my best impression of a fish.

“Tom…”

“What? You’ll get a massage and they will scrub you with chocolate or seaweed, or some other strange and worrying substance and then they’ll do your hair and make up for tonight.” He smiles.  I take a step back and push him gently away from the door and back onto the sidewalk.

“Thank you.” I push against him and stretch up to kiss him.

“I want you to relax.  I want you to have fun tonight.  You deserve it.” He whispers into my ear.  “We take care of each other, right?” He hugs me.  I bury my face in his shoulder and squeeze him tight, until he groans.

“What are you going to do?” I ask.

“I’ll just stand out here, waiting.” He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets.  I laugh and kiss him again.  “I’m going to go home and do some work, and then I’ll be back when you’re ready to pick you up.” He kisses my chin and then the corner of my mouth.  I nod.

“Pick me up in the Jag.  I want to be fancy.” I look up at him and he laughs.

“I sort of have to, it’s my only car.” He raises an eyebrow.  I smile and peck him quickly on the lips, then let go of him so I can go into the salon.

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” I say over my shoulder.  He smiles and holds up a hand.  “You’re a pretty good potato, aren’t you?” I tilt my head.  He shrugs and then does this funny little dance, turning his feet in and out, and lifting up his long legs, alternating them quickly.

“I’m a mashed potato!” He laughs and then I shake my head, and go into the building, my chest feeling full and heavy and wonderful.