“What the fu...!” I started, jumping up from off the toilet and struggling to pull up my clothes.
I yanked open the bathroom door and raced into the living room. At the door, I stopped and looked in sheer bewilderment. Vincent was dancing – if you could call it that – in the middle of my living room to The Time by The Black Eyed Peas. I looked incredulously as Vincent danced with an imaginary microphone pressed to his lips and sang along to the music.
“I had the time of my life...And I never felt this way before...And I swear this is true...And I owe it all to you...Dirty bit...”
The music started to pound all around me as Vincent started to sway his arms in the air and jiggle his butt as he danced along to the thumping music.
“All these girls they like my swagger...” Vincent wailed over the music, his butt sticking out and swaying from side to side. “...They callin’ me Mick Jagger...I be rollin’ like a stone...jet setter...jet lagger...”
Fastening my jeans, I raced across the living room and switched off my iPod which Vincent had dropped into the dock.
“’Cause I’m havin’ a good time with you...” Vincent continued to wail, his eyes shut, invisible microphone in his hand. “I’m tellin’ you...” he suddenly trailed off suddenly realising the music had come to an abrupt end. Slowly, Vincent opened his eyes and looked at me.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” I roared at him. “You’re gonna piss the neighbours off!”
“Sorry,” Vincent shrugged like a schoolboy who had been caught having a sly smoke. “I thought it would be nice to have some background music...”
“Background music!” I cried. “The whole freaking town could hear it!”
“I didn’t mean to have it on so loud. I couldn’t figure out how to turn the sound down...” he started to explain.
“You didn’t look as if you were doing much figuring out from what I could see,” I said. “You looked like you were throwing some kinda fit. What is wrong with you?”
“I got caught up in the moment,” Vincent said. “Besides, when I saw the name of the track on your iPod-thingy, I thought it was going to be that love song.”
“What love song?” I quizzed with a frown.
“You know the one...” he trailed off as if deep in thought. “What was it called...oh, God I can’t remember now. It was sung by that woman Jennifer Warnes and...what was his name...you know...that old git with long, grey hair and...”
“Bill Medley,” I cut in.
“Yeah, that’s the guy,” Vincent said. “Anyway, I thought it was gonna be that song...you know something nice and romantic...”
With a frown I looked at Vincent and said, “Why would you want to listen to romantic music...there’s only the two of us here.”
“Romantic? Did I say romantic?” Vincent blushed. “What I meant to say was something nice and relaxing because you feel stressed out. I was just thinking of you...I mean, you’re right...why would we want to listen to romantic music together...I mean...we could if you wanted to...no...oh, God...this is getting kinda embarrassing...how many sugars do you take in your tea?” Vincent said, rushing away from me and into the kitchen.
I watched him go. He was the strangest guy I had ever met. He was certainly odd, but in a charming way. He took the piss by constantly helping himself to my stuff and interfering, but he had a sweet – innocent quality. Something I hadn’t often – if ever – come across in the men I’d met before. I got the impression that he liked me but was way too shy or clumsy to just come out and say it. Not like Michael. Michael had made his feelings known straight off. Vincent, on the other hand, got all tongue-tied and embarrassed. Now I felt kind of guilty for having to moan at him. He’d obviously been looking for something romantic to listen to on my iPod, but had completely made a mess of it. Vincent seemed to put his mouth into gear before his brain, as I remembered the comment he had made the night before about wanting to go to bed.
Endeared by his blundering attempts to romance me – if that was truly what he was trying to do – I went and stood in the kitchen doorway and watched him pour two cups of tea.
Chapter Nineteen
“Just the one for me,” I said, leaning against the doorframe.
“Mm?” Vincent said, a spoonful of sugar hovering over a cup full of tea.
“One sugar,” I said, my voice losing some of the frostiness for him.
“Sweet enough, are you?” he said with a smile.
“Why do you keep saying all this stuff?” I asked, taking the cup and stirring it contents with a spoon. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”