A Broken Us (London Lover Series Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

no clue where the hell we’re going; I don’t
care. It’s new and different. Exactly
what I need.
    The cab driver pulls up alongside a big
beautiful brick house on the corner of a busy narrow street. Traffic whizzes by
as I take in the Rapunzel-type tower on the corner of the block. “Is this it?”
I ask Leslie as we clamor out of the cab.
    “You bet yer ass it
is! We’re gonna rock this house the whole week you’re
here! Get ready, sista ’, I’m getting you naked-wasted
tonight!”
    Leslie heads to the back of the cab to grab the
rest of the bags while I take in the grandeur of the home. Even the door handle
looks exquisite. I can’t help but notice the entry; the door is painted a
bright purple with ivy vines growing all around it onto the beautifully shaded
patio area to the right. The rest of the house looks old and
important—maybe a little ominous, but this vibrant-colored door
practically screams, WELCOME!
    I help Leslie with my bags as we make our way
up the steps into the old house. It even smells British. What the hell does
British smell like? Like I have any freaking clue. Jesus, I better not say that
crap out loud or people will think I’m mentally deranged. But if I had to guess
what British smells like, I’d bet it
would smell just like this house—old and interesting.
    I glance up the staircase just past the foyer,
and see what looks like three stories. The main floor consists of a tiny living
room on the left with a neat fireplace. Connected off of that room is a long
hallway leading toward the back of the house. There’s a big dining room to the
right of the foyer, with ten plush chairs seated all around it. The greatness
of the large expensive-looking table is a bit lost amongst the clutter
scattered all over it. Covering almost every surface are various books, papers,
pens, CDs, and mail, right next to two large packing boxes with packing peanuts
spilling out of them.
    “ Gotta run to the
loo. Sit tight, Fin!” Leslie squeals as she dashes past me to the hallway off
of the living room.
    “Fucking magazines. Magazines! Can you fucking
believe it?”
    A tall and uncomfortably skinny redhead ambles
into the dining room from the kitchen and looks at me pointedly.  
    “The cow sends me boxes of fucking magazines
when all I bloody-well want are my damn clothes!” he barks and gives a box a
shove across the table.
    “Are you talking to me?” I ask, confused.
    “I don’t see anyone else in the room, so yeah,
you’ll do.” He roughly tousles his bright orange hair. I’d never seen hair like
his. It was cut short along the sides and sat high on top of his head with a
natural frizz, seeming to help it stay afloat without product. Almost like…a
rooster. I conceal my smirk as a side-by-side comparison pops into my head.
    “ Oi , Frank! Stop
being a bitch to Finley!” Leslie shouts, coming into the foyer again. “For
Christ’s Sake, she just got off an incredibly long flight. She doesn’t give a
fuck about your ex-whore’s magazines.”
    “He was a whore. The bitch. Probably wiped his arse with
these magazines, too. I can’t imagine what it cost to post these bastards. What
a bloody waste of money. Money that could have been better spent on booze!
Speaking of which, who’s up for a drink? I’ve about had it with this bollocks
all day,” Frank looks at us expectantly with his hands on his tiny hips.
    “Sounds great to me,” Leslie replies. “You’re
up for it, aren’t ya , Fin? Only way to beat the
jet-lag!”
    “Um, okay!” I answer, excitedly. Was this
really how my first night in London was going to be? Leslie’s roommate, Frank,
seems a bit out there, but I have a feeling I’m going to have a lot of laughs
with him.
    “Fuck your kit and let’s roll,” Frank says,
coming out of the dining room and into the foyer. “Christ! How many bloody bags
did you pack? Are you moving the fuck in?”
    “I know!” Leslie adds, “I still can’t get over
it, Fin. What the