Page 20 of Only Ever You

“Well get back on your own,Darcy, we’ve only got ten minutes left.”

The eye roll that came from Bennet was so loud, Bash might’ve actually heard it. “That nickname got old five years ago, mate.”

“You mock me about myfriend,” Bash warned, “I’m mocking how your mother named you after the lead of a book.”

“It’s her favourite book!”

Someonewas defensive today.Bash turned his back, hiding how he laughed.

Bennet Flores.Thirty. Of Spanish descent. Terminally single. And named after a novel. Bash couldn’t see why the man could never land a date these days when he himself came right out of a book.

Between the two of them,PD&F Luxe Co.sailed like a well-oiled ship. Bash was the brain to Bennet’s brawn. He drew up the concepts for their interior designs, while Bennet preferred handling project sites and curating their catalogue of furniture and suppliers. Their dynamic, evidently, worked.

“Serve your ball,Elizabeth.” Bash set himself up to volley, feet spread and leaning forwards, ass getting cold in his thin shorts from all of the standing around. “And try to aim straight.”

The rest of their practice session ended without any more balls striking Bash in the face, which only reminded him of a few experimental parties from his university days.

They grabbed their racket bags and headed for the changing room, eager to get out of the cold and into clothes that weren’t just shorts and t-shirts. Their tennis club was semi-outdoors, but without heating on the rooftop courts, only the floodlights and their own exertions could warm them up.

Bash dropped his hold-all on a bench and took a glance at the showers before deciding against it. If he went straight outside minutes after showering at this time of year, then by the time he reached his house he would already have a cold. It wasn’t worth it. He’d rinse off at home and thoroughly dry before heading out again to meet up with old friends.

He changed back into the slacks he’d worn for the meetings at their rented office space, then pulled the orange hoodie that’d been a gift from Faye over his shirt. He switched his court trainers for his ‘commuting’ ones that were necessary at this time of year, when rain turned the pavements to sludge and mud appeared on every ground surface.

Clothed casually in multiple shades of navy and blue that complemented his olive white complexion, Bennet wandered over as Bash gathered his things. “Hey, have you had any thoughts about that contract we were offered?”

The big money client that’d loomed over his head for a decision for two weeks? No, not at all …

Of course he had. And Bash didn't want to think about it.

His sigh was half tiredness and half reluctance. “America is a big decision, Ben.”

“With big clients. Big deals. Big contracts. Big people who want to pay big bucks foryourdesign, Bash.” Bennet tapped him on the shoulder. “Woodrow & Sturridgewantyou.I’m just here for the ride along.”

If he was motivated more by money and greed, then maybe Bash wouldn’t be so hesitant.Woodrow & Sturridge, one of the most prestigious interior design firms in New York, promised so much – all of the things Bennet listed, and he knew that if he took the offer then big clients and big bucks would be the case. But Bash couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I know.” His shoulders slowly drooped. “I know that they do.”

They made way for the door exiting the changing room, passing others coming in for the late evening time slots.

“Ifwe said yes, then I don’t see whyWoodrow & Sturridgecan’t let us design for them but from here,” Bash added. “We’ve done that kind of thing before. Remember that obnoxious tycoon’s fishing lodge in Norway?”

The hallway narrowed which brought them closer together as Bennet rebuffed, “You know as well as I do clients want to meet their designers face to face, especially in our line when these projects areliterallycosting a million pounds or more.”

Bash stayed silent, surprised with each step that Bennet didn’t try another tactical comment after that.

They passed Annabeth with a smile on the main desk and swiped their membership cards to open the frosted glass gate, before pushing out through the revolving doors.

When they were met with darkness outside and Bash zipped up his coat even further, his luck for Bennet’s silence ran out as his partner turned to him.

“I just … I can’t figure out why you don’t want to go.” If Bennet’s brow crumpled any further, it was going to merge with the beard-‘stache above his lip. Bash had the grace to not push him away, since they were in this business together. “It’s an amazing opportunity, one we might not get again so easily. Isn’t breaking into America what we’ve wanted?”

Maybe, once. The ten year plan forPD&Fhad never been set in stone. Hell, even thefiveyear plan had been something scrawled upon a café napkin. Their hard-earned success had been somewhat of a happy accident and they’d rolled with the flow of what came to them ever since.

Bash decided to tell the truth. Plain and clear.

“I want to stay here,” he said, and Bennet took a breath as though he didn’t know these things already.

Out on the wet and windy London street, Bash confessed, “I want a family. I want kids. I don’t want to be starting again halfway across the world when we’ve got no assurance things will stay good or that clients will keep on coming.”

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