floor. “You’re being really weird. Either tell me what’s going on or—”
A loud knock on my front door interrupted my ultimatum. Georgie’s eyes widened even more as she swept her gaze to the door.
“Oh no.” Her hands covered her mouth. “I’m too late. You’ll mess it all up with your manky apartment.”
“Mess what up, Georgie?”
She didn’t respond.
“Who’s at the door?”
She shrugged and turned back for the broom closet, rooting through my cleaning products. “Go see for yourself,” she said. “I’ve got work to do.”
I wiped my hand down my face, annoyed at the idea of company. I didn’t know what Georgie was up to, but the person at the door was knocking again, so I stepped over the bin bag to go answer it. I’d barely turned the knob when I heard Georgie spraying something in the kitchen. She’d truly gone off the deep end. I shook my head and whipped the door open.
Time stopped as Andie came into focus on my doorstep. I was gripping the door, mouth open, breath frozen, heart pounding.
I blinked, and blinked again.
It couldn’t be her. She was supposed to be half a world away, and yet she was here, standing a foot away from me and waving a small British flag back and forth in front of her chest.
I couldn’t quite wrap my head around her being here. In London. At my flat. Her luggage was tucked behind her and she was wearing a small, tentative smile. Her gray eyes were gleaming with hope and her hand was shaking around the flag. Her pale blonde hair was falling out of a messy bun and she had on jeans and a wrinkled white blouse. She should have looked weary from her flight, but she was radiant. I wanted to reach out to touch her, but I was scared she’d disappear like a mirage.
“Andie?” I asked, hearing the hope in my voice.
Question after question sprang to mind (How did you get here? When did you plan this? Where are you staying? How long will you be here?), but I settled on a simple statement. “You’re here.”
A loud crash sounded in the kitchen and her smile dropped. Her eyes scanned past me, trying to find the source of the commotion. “Is this a bad time?”
I shook my head and pulled the door open wider. “No, it’s just Georgie. Come in.”
We hadn’t touched. She’d been on my doorstep for one whole minute and I hadn’t kissed her and I wanted to kiss her.
I held the door open and she stepped inside with a hesitant laugh. I reached for her suitcase before she could and rolled it in the foyer for the time being.
“Pretend like I’m not even here!” Georgie shouted from somewhere in the flat just before a door slammed. I had no clue what she was up to, but I didn’t care. I closed the front door and focused on Andie as she inspected the photos hanging in the foyer.
“So this your place,” she said, leaning forward on her toes to inspect a photo of Georgie and me from when we were little. Georgie had urged me to hire a decorator after I’d purchased the flat a few years back; as Andie turned to take in the living room, I made a mental note to thank her. “It’s really nice, Freddie.”
How had I still not touched her? She was walking around the place, smiling at the furniture when she should have been smiling at me. I stepped forward to break the separation and give her the greeting I should have at the door, but suddenly her face contorted as we both caught a whiff of air freshener coming from the kitchen. No, not a whiff. A plume of the noxious gas nearly knocked us off our feet. Georgie had sprayed enough of it that it smelled like a Febreeze factory had exploded in my flat.
Andie coughed and waved her hand in front of her face. “What in the world is that?”
“That will have been Georgie. She came around to tidy up just before you got here. It’s supposed to smell like…” I checked the spray bottle. “Summer citrus.”
She laughed. “It smells like shitrus.”
I shook my head and walked over to push open the balcony door. It was a bit chilly out, but we’d have to make do until the flat aired out.
I waved for Andie to follow me out onto the balcony and I watched in wonder as she took in the view of London. I’d grown