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
