[18+] Sophia has to ignore her steamy chemistry with British popstar Teddy Stone in order to get revenge on him for upsetting her best friend.
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Pop sensation Teddy St...
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I've always loved London, but as I clung onto a sweaty rail while one of its trains hurtled along the underground tracks, it was the last place on Earth I wanted to be.
Young girls crowded the carriage, laughing, singing, squealing with excitement. The train took a sharp bend, and one brunette lost her balance, stumbling into me. My grip on the rail tightened as I closed my eyes, trying to block out the suffocating atmosphere. Only when I felt the familiar presence of a ring-adorned hand on mine, and the unmistakeable scent of Givenchy, did I release a shaky breath.
"Only three more stops," Becca said, sliding in front of me so I was siphoned off from the rowdy girls. "But we can walk the rest of the way if you'd rather?"
"Don't be daft. It's pissing it down outside."
"So we'll get an Uber." She shrugged, her concerned eyes flickering over me. "You're suffering."
The train began to slow as it eased into the station, and a businessman rose from a seat, his lips pressed tightly together as he assessed the best route out of the heaving carriage.
No sooner had he moved from his position, Becca grabbed my waist and hauled me into the empty seat. My thumping heart jolted at the sudden movement but settled down once I had space around me again. The air was only marginally better, still thick and hot, but Becca stood with the back of her legs pressed against my knees, ensuring nobody else could encroach on me.
"You know those seats are meant for people less able to stand?" The same brunette who'd bashed into me earlier raised her eyebrows.
Before I could question why she hadn't called out the businessman who'd previously occupied this seat, Becca spun around to face her, one hand clutching the rail and the other settling on her hip.
"Not all health problems are visible. Fancy going to a Teddy Stone concert and not knowing something like that. Call yourself a fan?"
A hint of pink coloured the girl's cheeks. Her eyes darted down to the top she wore—an over-sized hoody with hundreds of cities and dates listed on it.
"I'm sure he also wouldn't approve of you talking to one of his fans like that," she replied.
"I'm sorry for calling out your ignorance."
Becca didn't seem sorry in the slightest, and although my racing heart had calmed, I still didn't want a fight breaking out in the carriage.
"Leave it, Bec. I'm fine now."
The girl turned her back on us and Becca shot me a smile, her eyes softening. As the train continued to rumble through the tunnels, I pulled out my phone. I needed a distraction, but with limited reception under the streets of London, my browser was stuck on the last page I'd opened. Instead, my head kept me occupied as I replayed our journey so far.
"Do you remember if I locked the door?"
The train stopped at the next platform with a jolt, and Becca edged closer to me as several passengers squeezed through.
