Late Love
Scarlett Hopper
Copyright © 2020 by Scarlett Hopper
Cover Design © 2020 by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Formatted by Brenda Wright, Formatting Done Wright
Edited by Nicole Mentges Nam Editorial
Table of Contents
Playlist
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Other Books by Scarlett
Porcelain by Moby
In My Arms by Kylie Minogue
Sea of Love by Cat Power
Bare Bones by Rainbow Kitten Surprise
ILYSB by LANY
Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros
Here Comes the Rain Again by Eurythmics
Pull Me Down by Mikky Ekko
Toledo by Elvis Costello
Believer by Imagine Dragons
I Need My Girl by The National
Fancy by Iggy Azalea
Farther Figure by George Michael
Million Reasons by Lady Gaga
Lover, You Should’ve Come Over by Jeff Buckley
Hands Clean by Alanis Morrissette
After The Storm by Mumford & Sons
Tears Dry On Their Own by Amy Winehouse
Somewhere Only We Know by Lily Allen
Fade by Egyptian
For my B
Early July 2018
I count out the wad of bills, each of them eventually leading up to two hundred pounds. The man in front of me looks at the cash, probably annoyed I’m making sure it’s all there. His scent of stale tobacco and beer fills the small flat, but I say nothing. In fact, I’d love it if the scent lingered long after he was gone, long after I’m gone too.
But I doubt I’ll be so lucky.
“You sure you’re okay with parting with all this for two hundred quid? I mean, it must have cost you at least nine hundred.”
It was nearly two thousand, but I don’t tell him that.
His deep voice yanks me away from my counting, and I pocket the cash into my skintight black jeans, hoping he paid in full. To be honest, I don’t really care if he didn’t. This transaction is a symbolic act more than anything; I won’t even keep the money. Bobby the homeless man on the corner could use it more than me. Hell, maybe the two of us could grab a pint before my departure.
“Lass?”
I’m pulled out of my tangled thoughts, my attention redirected to the big burly Kevin. Wait, is that his name? Maybe it’s Cullum. Who knows at this point? It honestly doesn’t matter. After today I won’t see him or anyone in this town again. I guess I should feel sad. Edinburgh isn’t a bad place, and I’ve even come to love it over the past six months I’ve lived here. Too bad it took one night to taint the entire thing.
“Sorry,” I quickly reply, trying to sound attentive. “No, it’s honestly no problem. I’m moving soon anyway and can’t keep it.”
He nods, his long salt-and-pepper beard moving up and down with his face. “Well, I guess it’s my luck then to stumble upon your ad. Whereabouts are you moving to?”
“London,” I reply, hoping we can move this all along so I can continue to pack. Kevin or whatever his name is genuinely seems curious, his attention not causing me discomfort, but if it did, I’d have no issue pulling out the pepper spray I keep nearby.
“I can hear that classy accent of yours. You’re definitely a London girl, although I have to say you don’t look too posh.” He chuckles to himself, as if it’s some big revelation that my tattoos, combat boots, and jeans aren’t exactly blue-blooded.
I squint at him, not sure how to respond.
“Now I see why I’m getting such a deal.” I know what he’s implying, that I come from money so I don’t need money, but that’s not the full case. Sure, my parents have money, but I’ve been independent from them for years.
“Well, it’s been a pleasure,” I lie, “but packing calls.”
He quickly grabs the TV and I pick up the stereo, then walk him to his car so I can continue to get my things together. He carefully places all Beck’s shit in the backseat.
“You have a good day, lass,” he says, rounding the car and pulling open the creaky driver’s-side door. The car jolts as he jumps into the driver’s seat, a shit-eating grin on his face.
I give a half-hearted wave before retreating into the flat.
I look at the empty TV stand, the space where the stereo went next to it, also bare.
He is going to lose his shit.
A smirk double the size of Kevin’s overtakes my face.
I don’t have to wait long for the reaction, because an hour later I’m sitting in our living room, boots propped up against his coffee table, my Betsy Johnson suitcase at my side, when he comes home. I’ve made sure to have my makeup done, bleached hair straight, just resting upon my shoulders.
My eyes are locked on the front door when he enters, his hair disheveled and some slight stubble growing on his chin. It’s unfortunate he’s so pretty and has a fit body to match, because his personality is probably the worst fucking thing in the world. His eyes are laced with deception and his lips tainted with venom. Every kiss, every promise he’s made me over the past year has been a lie. While I changed my entire life for him, moved countries and left my friends and family, he’s been fucking some whore down the road.
“Lottie,” he says, taken aback when he sees me, probably because he assumed I’d be at work. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that his ruffled collar and ruffled hair are the result of his
