Husband Material (London Calling, #2)

by Alexis Hall

“Oliver,” I said, because I wanted this on record, “you are actually just a smidgeon jealous, aren’t you?” “No.” The response was far too quick to be convincing. I grinned triumphantly. “You are. Oh my God, you are. That’s amazing because it means you like me so much you don’t want anyone else to have me. Or possibly super insulting because it suggests I’m so damaged I’ll go back to a guy who sold me out and is marrying someone else.” “Well, obviously I like you, Lucien,” muttered Oliver. “In general. Not necessarily right now. And I know it’s irrational. While I have a long history of people leaving me, it’s always been for quite banal reasons, not because they decided to run off with their ex at his own wedding.” Once upon a time, this would have been a teasing opportunity and I’d have said something like I promise when I leave you, it’ll be over something trivial. But Oliver had been dumped a lot, and even though he’d know it was a joke, it would be a joke that hurt. “I promise I’m not going to leave you. Not over Miles. Not over you going vegan. Not even over that time you got really upset at me for leaving my socks in the living room.” That perked him right up. His eyes got a steely glint. “There is a place,” he said, “for socks.” And it probably said something weird about my brain or our relationship that Oliver chiding me about my socks was a little bit of a turn-on. “I’m sorry.” I made a futile attempt to sound contrite. “I’m just a filthy sock harlot.” “Lucien, ar...