Page 125 of Only Ever You

At the edge of the court Freddy frowned and snapped his eyes Bash’s way.

“I know things are new between me and Faye,” Bash said to Bennet, “but I can’t leave now. She’s moving to Manchester in a couple of weeks to open a new bakery so things are already going to be tough.”

Freddy’s eyes widened another notch and Bash remembered that he didn’t know about Faye’s plans to leave. But it was too late now to take back what he’d said.

Bennet nodded slowly.

“And would you really want to work forWoodrow and Sturridge? Scratch your name off of the door we worked so hard to get it written on in the first place?”

“No … No, you’re right.” Bennet dragged his hand through his hair. “I guess I got excited that people from New York wantedus. We’d have been doing the same work for the same rates, just four thousand miles away.”

Bash felt like shit. “I’m sorry I burst your bubble, Ben.” And he meant it, aware of the ball of guilt in his stomach for being the reason they were holding back.

There were so many avenues still left for them to explorehere,and in the rest of Europe too. Ones which wouldn’t mean moving halfway across the world. Bennet always said that he was interested in designing spaces for not just homes, but events too. He loved the glitz and glamour of high life far more than Bash ever would. So maybe that’s what they could explore next?

Bouncing the tennis ball, Bash set up another rally before his own balls grew any colder. Freddy still glared as if he’d just kicked a puppy, wordlessly saying he wanted to know what the hell they were talking about. He’d explain in a minute.

Bennet returned the bright yellow-green ball over the net, looking at him when he said, “I want to stay working with you and stay your friend more than I want to go off to America. Life isn’t always about moving on up. Sometimes it’s about sitting and being happy where you are for a while. We’re doing great as we are, we don’t need to work for someone else. And as soon as I heard Faye’s voice when she picked up your phone on Christmas Eve, I knew there was no way you were going to go.”

Bash caught the ball again and stopped their play. He really wanted to get warm, but he wanted to say this more. “I’m in love with her, Ben, more than I know how to describe. I want to stay, it’s what’s best for me. So thank you, I appreciate this.”

Bennet shrugged. “Swings and roundabouts, Bash. Something else will come along.”

“Something will.” Bash’s mouth pulled a sharp smile – they needed some levity. “It might be your turn soon to find the love of your life.”

Bennet scoffed. “Definitely not.”

Bash turned his attention to Freddy instead who’d buried his hands up under his armpits, sitting there very much like he waited for someone to bring him his tea.

One blonde brow shot up. “Don’t look at me. I’ve got enough on my plate without throwing a woman into the mix.”

Bash jogged over to him and kindly bonked him on the head with the strings of his racket despite Freddy’s spluttering expletive.

“So make the plate bigger,” he said firmly before jogging backwards to his position on court. “It will help.”

“Fine. I’ll think about it.” Bash knew Freddy wouldn’t. All he could do was keep on encouraging. “Now what the hell is thisAmericastuff?”

“Okay, since I actually need my dick now and for it to not freeze off” – Bash took a new ball from his pocket – “we’re going to play and talk, how about that?” They’d already wasted enough court time by notplaying, and he had somewhere he wanted to be this evening.

Bennet laughed at him and readied his stance on his baseline.

Freddy groaned, “Fine. But if you ever again imply that you’re doing something sexual with myfriendFaye, I’m walking out of here.”

38

FAYE

Her weekend baghad never had so much use as it did in the last week. Crossing the threshold of Bash’s front door, Faye breathed in slowly, taking it all in with new eyes even though she’d been here countless times before.

For a man who oozed luxury left, right and centre in his work, she’d never understood how Bash’s personal taste was so simple, yet sleek. His white-fronted townhouse didn’t feel as though she walked into a showroom, but ahome– with its European flare like an old Parisianmaison, even if he complained he wanted more for it.

Faye had woken this morning with a smile that was quickly replaced with an “O” when Bash took himself to his knees again and made her see white clouds and shooting stars. He’d made her breakfast – a modest menu of porridge with frozen berries he’d found in Morris’ freezer – and after driving the hour back to London and dropping her off at her flat, she’d gone straight to the bakery.

He’d picked her up fromBakedtwo hours after what should’ve been closing time, surprising Chandra with his unannounced appearance. It’d taken half a second of Bash’s flustered glances and Faye’s blushes for Chandra to realise, quite loudly, what had changed between them.

Whatever paperwork she’d left behind on her desk when Bash dragged her away could wait for tomorrow. She’d tried to protest coming to his house, just a little, stating the logical fact that she only had the clothes on her body and no change of underwear, as well as needing to be back atBakedfor six a.m.

“I want you in my bed,” he’d said outside on the lamp-lit street still decorated in tinsel and fairy lights, and the space between Faye’s stomach and her heart went woozy at the prospect, “where I can keep you warm. Because your flat is an ice box.”

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