Boyfriend Material (London Calling, #1)

by Alexis Hall

“On another topic,” I announced, changing the subject with all the grace and subtlety of someone saying Can we change the subject now, “a scary old man went for me in the bathroom. I mean, yelled at me. Not, like, tried to hit on me.” “Thank you for clarifying that.” It was Oliver’s driest tone. So far Operation Come Across as a Total Prick was running ahead of schedule. Alex frowned. “How very rum. Did you do anything to provoke him?” My apology window had closed an aloe vera ago. So I was basically stuck with sort of pretending I hadn’t been awful, even though I blatantly had, and trying to find the mythical middle ground between making it worse and overcompensating. “Nice to know you’re taking his side already. But, for the record, no. I was minding my own business by the sink when this mad old coot barged in and—” “Alex, m’boy,” bellowed the mad old coot, materialising behind me like the serial killer in a horror movie. “How’s the old man?” “Can’t complain, Randy. Can’t complain.” “Very much enjoyed his speech in the Lords recently about, oh, what was it…” “Badgers?” “No, not badgers. Those other, what do you call them…immigrants.” “Ah yes. Sounds like Daddy. Oh”—Alex gave a little start—“by the way, I should introduce you. You remember Clara, of course.” “’Course I do. Never forget a face.” “And these are my friends, Luc and Oliver.” His eyes lasered over us and I wilted in my seat. “Pleasure. Any friend of a Twaddle is a friend of mine. But I should warn you, stay ou...