My Perfect Stranger: A hilarious love story by the bestselling author of One Day in December

‘Hey, if you can rustle me up the Bublé or Robert Downey Jr, I’m all for it,’ Honey said.

‘Think about it. All those hours of practising scales would make a man talented with his hands.’ Tash warmed to her theme. ‘And only clever, sensitive men would bother to learn the piano.’ She sounded too certain for anyone to question her logic.

‘Tash’s right, Hon,’ Nell chimed in. ‘You need a pianist.’

‘Well I don’t know any.’

‘Not yet …’ Tash winked. ‘But you will.’

‘Er … how?’ Honey reached for the wine bottle.

‘No idea.’ Tash pushed her glass towards Honey.

Nell grinned. ‘We need to check out dating sites.’

‘No way!’ Honey sloshed wine onto the table in panic. ‘There’s no way I’m signing up for online dating.’

Tash and Nell eyed each other. ‘Of course not,’ Nell said. Tash coughed.

Honey narrowed her eyes. ‘Have you got your fingers crossed behind your back?’

Nell shook her head and uncrossed her fingers.

‘I can’t even think of any other famous pianists, let alone regular joes.’ Honey frowned.

‘Elton John?’ Tash suggested.

‘He’s gay. And married. I don’t want married. Or gay.’

‘Liberace?’

‘Great. Dead and gay.’

‘Right,’ Nell intervened. ‘So we’re looking for straight, breathing pianists with a thing for boho blondes.’

‘And gorgeous,’ Honey said. ‘He has to be gorgeous.’

‘Well, I think it’s genius,’ Tash said. ‘In one easy swipe you’ve managed to eliminate ninety-nine per cent of the male population, leaving only a small pool to fish in for the catch of the day.’

Honey laughed and shook her head to dislodge the image of herself in waders reeling in an unwilling Michael Bublé. ‘A fishy pianist. Every girl’s dream.’

Hal heard female laughter and doors slamming well after midnight in the shared hallway outside his flat and yanked the hard, unfamiliar pillow over his head.

Great. His new neighbour had a laugh like an alley cat as well as no respect for anyone else in the house. Had he been in a charitable mood, he might have acknowledged that she actually had no clue he’d moved in that afternoon, but her laughter annoyed him too much to be reasonable. Laughter annoyed him right now. As did people. Laughing people were a particular bugbear. He’d been here for less than a day, but he hated this house already.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_0d214359-f8b8-55a9-9453-793818009c7c)

Honey squinted like a gremlin against the glare of the morning sun. Or was it afternoon? After a morning spent lounging on the sofa, her hangover had been replaced with the dire need for a bacon sandwich and a bucket of coffee. Pan on and bacon in, she started to feel a little less deathly and ran to grab the ringing phone before it clicked to the machine.

‘Hello?’

‘You sound as rough as I feel,’ Tash grumbled. ‘What did we drink last night? Meths?’

‘The tequila was your idea.’ Honey grimaced. ‘Did you get home okay?’

‘Course. The taxi driver made me hang my head out of the bloody window in case I threw up, but yeah.’

Honey laughed at the image of Tash like a family dog on a road trip.

‘I wonder how Nell is?’

‘Fine, no doubt. She’ll have drunk two pints of water before bed, and have Simon on hand with Alka-Seltzer and a bowl of hand-mixed muesli. Lucky cow.’

Honey knew Tash well enough to detect fondness behind the grouch.

‘It’s our own fault,’ Honey laughed. ‘Nell didn’t have tequila. It’s the mixing that kills.’

‘Does she always have to be so friggin’ sensible?’

‘Yeah, but who would you rather be this morning?’

‘Er, waking up next to Simon, the dullest man on earth?’ Tash said. ‘I’ll stick to the tequila and the headaches, ta very much.’

Honey yelped as a screechy wail assaulted her ears.

‘What the fuck is that noise?’ Tash yelled.

‘Crap! The smoke alarm! Gotta go, Tash. Love you.’

Honey belted into the kitchen. Smoke and burnt bacon. Double crap. At least there were no flames yet. She hurled the pan in the sink, wincing as the high-pitched alarm battered her already thumping head. She scrabbled onto a chair and pressed reset, weak with relief as the noise stopped. Then she tilted her head. It hadn’t completely stopped. Triple crap. Wow, she’d done a thorough job. When she opened her front door the alarm out in the hallway was going full throttle, and the damn thing was too high for her to reach.

She clamped her hands over her ears, then jumped out of her skin when the door to the empty flat opposite hers flung wide open.

‘Is the fucking house on fire?’

Whoa. Where did he come from?

‘No, sorry. I burnt my bacon. Just give me a minute …’

Honey tried to hide her surprise at finding a dishevelled Johnny Depp type yelling at her in her own hallway. Well, strictly speaking it was a shared hallway, but as the flat opposite had been vacant for months she’d become kind of territorial.

She squinted at him. Dark glasses at lunchtime hinted at a fellow hangover sufferer. Maybe he was some famous rock star hiding out. She could dream. Whoever he was, the faded black t-shirt clung to his body in a way that suggested fit, and the tattoos inked down his arms suggested sexy. It was a shame then that his personality rendered him thoroughly repellent.

‘Just shut that fucking racket up, will you? I’m trying to sleep.’

‘Umm …’ Honey stared at the alarm in panic. Her head was thumping, and out here the noise was even louder than in her kitchen. ‘I would, but I can’t reach it. Could you possibly …?’

He was well over six foot; with a stretch he’d make it, no problem.