Stuck With You Read online

  One lift. Two strangers. Anything could happen!

  Elena thought that today would be just like any other day…until the supermarket lift jams and she realises she’s stuck.

  And not just stuck in the lift. Stuck with her childhood crush, Daniel Moore, who unfortunately seems to be just as gorgeous as she remembered…

  Fans of Debbie Johnson, Holly Martin and Christie Barlow will love this heartwarming read, from the bestselling author of Marry Me Tomorrow.

  Also by Carla Burgess

  Marry Me Tomorrow

  Stuck With You

  Carla Burgess

  CARLA BURGESS

  was born in Solihull and now lives in Chester with her husband, three children, dog and bearded dragon. Her love of books was sparked when she borrowed Ghost Ship to Ganymede by Robert Swindells from her primary school library and devoured it in one night. It was just after this that she started writing her own stories and inflicting them on family and friends. She began her working life as an editor on a trade magazine where she dreamed of writing about romance instead of tubing, but still felt privileged to be working with words. She has a degree in English literature and psychology, and loves animals, the countryside and the sea. Carla’s debut novel Marry Me Tomorrow, released in 2016, became a bestseller. For more information about Carla, you can follow her on Twitter @MsBear123 and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/carlaburgesswriter/

  Huge thanks to the team at HQ Digital, especially my editors Charlotte Mursell and Rayha Rose.

  Thank you to my family for putting up with me during the writing of this book, and also to all my lovely author friends who are always on hand with advice and support.

  For Natalie, who walked with me to get the leaf.

  Contents

  Cover

  Blurb

  Book List

  Title Page

  Author Bio

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  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

  Extract

  Endpages

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Daniel walks across the room towards me. I can hardly believe it. He’s so handsome in his tuxedo. Goosebumps break out across my skin and the hairs on the back of my neck rise. My heart is thumping so hard I’m sure it must be visible through my prom dress.

  ‘Elena,’ he says, and he smiles, a sexy glint in his green eyes. He stands close enough so I can hear him above the music, and I feel the heat from his body. He smells divine. I just want to kiss him, but instead I say, ‘Hello, Daniel,’ in a surprisingly confident voice.

  ‘Do you want to dance?’ He raises an eyebrow flirtatiously, and his eyes burn into mine. My knees are weak, but I smile boldly, pretending I’m not completely in awe of him, just like I’ve been doing for the past two years. It’s hard though, when I’m so happy that I feel like beams of light are shooting from my body.

  Daniel takes my hand and leads me onto the dance floor. The slow songs have already started, and couples are swaying to the music, entwined in each other’s arms beneath the glittering lights of the disco ball. Before I even have chance to worry about how we’re going to dance together, Daniel slips his hands around my waist and pulls me close.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he says into my ear, and his hot breath sears my skin. My eyes flicker up to his, and I don’t know what to say, so I just gaze at him, my arms around his neck. I’m tingling all over and his eyes don’t leave mine as he bends his head. Our lips meet, warm and soft…

  ‘Elena! Elena, wake up. Have you seen my pants?’

  ‘What?’ I kept my eyes shut, not wanting to leave my lovely dream world to deal with my grumpy real-life boyfriend.

  ‘My boxer shorts. Where are they? They’re not in my drawer.’

  ‘Errrm…’ Sighing deeply, I sat up. Alex was still dripping wet from the shower, a stripy green towel around his hips. ‘I don’t know… err, wait… I washed some yesterday. Try the radiator in the lounge.’ I yawned and tried to shield my eyes from the light. He disappeared from the bedroom, reappearing moments later holding a pair of blue boxer shorts.

  ‘They’re still wet!’ he said, accusingly. ‘Elena, what am I meant to do now?’

  ‘How is it my fault?’ I said, incensed. ‘The dryer’s broken. You wouldn’t have any clothes at all if I hadn’t have washed them yesterday. What happened to you doing your own washing? You should be grateful I washed them at all.’

  ‘You’re a woman, aren’t you? You should know about these things.’

  ‘Oh, get lost, Alex. This isn’t the nineteen-fifties, you know!’

  ‘What am I meant to do now? All of my underwear is either wet or dirty.’

  ‘They can’t be that wet. Pass them here and I’ll dry them with my hairdryer.’ Alex threw them at me and busied himself styling his hair in the mirror, muttering under his breath. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I switched on my hairdryer and blasted the pants dry. They were only a bit damp around the waist band, not as wet as Alex had made out. He was such a drama queen.

  Bored with my task of blasting pants, I watched him rub gel into his short dark hair, turning his head this way and that to check it was perfect. He examined a spot close up, then caught me watching him and scowled.

  ‘I’ve got some blemish cream, if you want it?’ Switching off the dryer, I shook out the pants, testing them for dampness.

  ‘I don’t need any!’ he snapped. ‘Are my boxers ready?’

  Briefly, I considered blow-drying the crotch for a few more minutes until it was boiling hot, but decided that was probably a bit mean. ‘Yes, they’re ready.’ I tossed them onto the side of the bed nearest him, and they slipped off onto the floor.

  ‘Careful!’ he said, as though they were precious and breakable. Anger bubbled inside me and I grabbed my bathrobe and went to have a shower before I said something I might regret. Alex had been so distant and grumpy lately; we could hardly be in the same room for more than ten minutes without arguing.

  The bathroom was still steamy from Alex’s shower, and smelt strongly of his spicy body wash. His dirty clothes from yesterday were lying on the floor, right next to the wicker clothes basket. I snatched them up and stuffed them in, slamming the lid shut afterwards. He was so pedantic about some things, and yet in other ways he was just like a child. Huffing, I stepped into the hot spray and closed my eyes.

  Now, where was I…

  I tried to summon up the warm, moist pressure of Daniel’s lips on mine, but it was no good; Alex had chased it away with his bad mood, and thoughts of work and chores were closing in. I lathered up my hair, lifting my face to the spray so it could massage away my frown. Daniel was my most perfect memory; a little bit of heaven stored up from my youth. I’d had a massive crush on him throughout sixth-form college, but had been too shy to let him know. When he came over and asked me to dance at the end of the prom, it was like all my Christmases had come at once. And his kiss had been the sweetest kiss ever. I knew he was going travelling, so there was no chance we’d get together properly. Perhaps that’s why I had
such good memories of him: neither of us ever had chance to disappoint the other. It was one perfect, romantic, fairy-tale moment that I could relive whenever I was feeling down. I seemed to be reliving it a lot recently.

  I pictured his shoulder-length silky blond hair, sharp cheek bones and lovely green eyes. He had a cupid’s-bow mouth that stretched into a wide, easy smile and a kissable, pudgy bottom lip. He was the coolest guy in the sixth form. Not that my best friend, Rachel, agreed, but there were plenty of girls who did think that. As the guitarist in the school rock band, he got plenty of attention from girls. I was just one of many adoring fans, and I knew there was no way he’d look at me: the shy girl from his English class, a cellist in the school orchestra.

  My cello now rested in the corner of the bedroom, gathering dust. Alex wanted me to sell it, but I didn’t feel like parting with it just yet.

  A sudden pounding on the bathroom door made me jump and Alex shouted, ‘Are you going to be much longer in there? I need to brush my teeth.’

  Annoyed, I shouted back, ‘Give me five minutes,’ and squirted conditioner into my hand.

  When I got out of the shower, Alex was pacing impatiently outside.

  ‘Can’t you eat your breakfast first?’ I asked, rubbing a towel over my hair.

  ‘I haven’t time for breakfast,’ he said, pushing past me into the steamy bathroom. ‘I’ve got a meeting this morning.’

  ‘You still need breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day.’

  ‘Spare me the lecture, will you? I’ll get something at work.’ He slammed the door and I recoiled slightly before shouting, ‘I’m going to be late home tonight, remember? I’m meeting Rachel for a coffee after work.’

  There was no answer, just the sound of gushing water and the scrubbing of teeth. With a huff, I went back into the bedroom and pulled some clothes out of the wardrobe, before crossing to the mirror to run a comb through my wet hair. I heard Alex come out of the bathroom and looked at the bedroom door, expecting him to pop his head round to say goodbye, but his footsteps went on past and I heard the front door open and slam shut.

  I blinked at my reflection in the mirror. That wasn’t good, was it? I felt as empty and cold as the flat had suddenly become. He’s under pressure at work, I told myself. He’s tired and he’s stressed. But that was no reason to take it out on me.

  I got ready for work, feeling sad and deflated before the day had even begun.

  ***

  ‘So, why do you think Alex is being so funny with you?’ Rachel asked, her head tilted in sympathy.

  ‘I don’t know.’ I shook my head and concentrated on gathering granules of brown sugar from the Formica table top with my fingertip. The coffee shop was full of early evening sunshine and muted chatter. Two tables away, a baby wailed. I knew how it felt. My mood hadn’t lifted since this morning.

  ‘How long has this been going on?’ Rachel leaned towards me slightly so she could hear over the sound of the noisy baby. Her ample bosom pressed against her coffee cup and brown liquid cascaded down the sides and into the saucer. She righted it quickly, then looked back up at me.

  ‘I can’t remember exactly. It’s just been a gradual thing. And we’ve both been so busy at work and stuff, I suppose we’ve both been freezing each other out.’

  ‘Well, perhaps that’s the problem. Maybe you should book a weekend away together somewhere. Spend some quality time with each other.’

  I shrugged. ‘Maybe.’ I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do less than spend a weekend with just Alex. What would we talk about? Our weekends consisted of him going to the gym, and visiting friends and family, usually separately. I frowned.

  ‘Or you could go to counselling sessions. They might help.’

  ‘I don’t think Alex would go to counselling, Rachel,’ I said. ‘Besides, if we need counselling at this stage of our relationship, maybe it’s just not meant to be.’

  ‘Well, if you love him…’

  ‘See, that’s the thing; I’m really not sure I do.’

  Rachel’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Really?’

  ‘Well, I’m not head over heels in love with him.’

  ‘But that doesn’t last anyway, does it? You fall into something more comfortable and settled.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I feel pretty uncomfortable and unsettled right now.’ I sighed and looked away, across the café. A young couple were leaning towards each other, smiling into each other’s eyes. I felt a wave of sadness. When had Alex and I last looked at each other like that? I couldn’t even remember. He’d never been particularly romantic anyway. Even in the early days, he’d preferred staring at a spreadsheet than into my eyes. It never occurred to me to mind; I thought he was much too grown-up and sensible to bother with such things. After all the beer-swilling lads at university, Alex had been a breath of fresh air. He already had a career at a bank, lived on his own in a flat and drove a flash car. Not that these things were particularly high on my list of priorities, but he seemed so sorted; so safe. He epitomised security. ‘Anyway, Rachel, why are you trying to convince me to stay in this relationship? You don’t even like Alex, do you?’

  ‘Well, no,’ she admitted, ‘but I don’t want to start slagging him off only for you to decide you’re going to stay with him for ever and ever and resent me for all the things I said.’

  ‘Oh,’ I frowned. ‘I didn’t realise you hated him that much. I just thought you found him boring.’

  Rachel laughed. ‘I’m joking. I don’t really hate him. But he is a bit dull, and you know I’ll support you no matter what.’

  I smiled at her and sighed. ‘Well, you’re right. I haven’t made my mind up about anything yet.’

  ‘Are you worried about the flat?’

  ‘Not at all. It’s his flat. I’d just walk away. But it seems like such a backwards step to go back to my parents’ house.’

  ‘Come and live with me!’

  ‘You’ve only got the one bedroom and you’ve got this new man in your life. How’s it going with Patrick anyway?’

  ‘Pretty good, actually.’ Rachel’s face lit up and she went pink. She looked as glamorous as ever today. Her dark red hair was swept up off her face in a chic up-do, and she was wearing a vintage green dress that matched her eyes. Her winged eyeliner and red lipstick were immaculate, despite a long day working in her florist’s shop.

  ‘Ooh, tell me more!’

  She shrugged, looking coy. ‘He’s taking me away for the weekend. To Paris.’

  ‘Paris? Wow!’

  ‘Yes!’ she squealed with excitement, clutching my hand. ‘We’re spending this weekend with Gemma, his little girl.’

  ‘Ah, lovely! How old is she again?’

  ‘Just four. She’s so cute.’

  ‘What about the mum?’

  ‘Remarried, so no problems there.’

  ‘Well, that sounds wonderful.’

  ‘I know!’ Her smile faded and she looked at me sadly. ‘Oh, but I’m sorry if that sounds smug when you’re having problems with Alex.’

  ‘Not at all. In fact, you should have stopped me droning on and told me your happy news instead.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. You know I’m always here if you ever need to talk. And if you need my help packing up or anything…’

  A shard of fear pierced my stomach and I flapped a hand. ‘Thanks. It’ll probably blow over though. I’m probably premenstrual or something and he’s stressed at work. I’m just letting off steam. We’ll sort it out.’

  Rachel’s brow creased in concern. ‘I don’t think so, Elena. If your heart’s telling you to get out, you need to get out. Life’s too short to spend it with the wrong man.’

  Forcing a smile, I glanced down at my watch. ‘I ought to go, actually. I’ve still got to go food shopping.’

  Rachel pulled a face. ‘At least it will be quiet at this time. It was bedlam when I went on Saturday.’

  I smiled and finished off my tea befo
re reaching for my bag. ‘It’s great to catch up,’ I said.

  ‘I know, although I wish we’d had more time to talk.’ Rachel looked troubled as she got to her feet. ‘We’ll have to make a night of it. Maybe next week?’

  ‘Yes, that’ll be great.’ I smiled as I hooked my bag over my shoulder.

  Weaving my way through the tables to the exit, I stepped out into the early evening sunshine. It had been raining on and off all day, and the spring air was fresh and cool. I drew it deep into my lungs.

  Rachel gave me a Chanel-scented hug and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Call me if you need anything,’ she said, before turning to walk off up the street.

  Chapter Two

  The supermarket was pretty quiet and I whizzed round with my basket, picking up fruit and vegetables, bread and milk. I didn’t need much; just a few essentials. I was through the tills in no time. I was going to take the stairs up to the car park, but as I was passing the lift, its doors slid open, practically inviting me inside. I looked at it for a moment before stepping in and selecting the floor I needed on the keypad. I wasn’t keen on lifts as a rule, but at least it was empty.

  Then, just as the doors were about to close, a man slipped through with an apologetic smile. I smiled back and had a quick rummage in my shopping bags. I was sure I’d forgotten something. Tin foil. Damn, I should have got tin foil.

  The man pressed a button on the control panel and stared straight ahead as the lift doors closed. I’d always found it awkward, being in a lift with a complete stranger. When I was a child and shopping with my mum, she’d try to talk to people in lifts and I’d roll my eyes and huff, embarrassed by her nervous chatter. These days, however, I had to fight the urge to do the same, as though standing in silence was somehow hostile and unfriendly.

  There was a pause and the lift doors opened again, but we hadn’t moved from the ground floor. The man tutted and stabbed the keypad with his index finger once more. I glanced across at him as the doors slid closed again. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but I couldn’t think where I knew him from. I looked at him from out of the corner of my eye as the lift shuddered and started to move. The grinding noise and the shaking didn’t bother me at first. It was a pretty old lift, after all. When it jolted to a sudden stop, I stepped forward, expecting the doors to ping open and reveal the car park.