Page 28 of Only Ever You

Faye knew she was a solid six-out-of-ten, a seven if she was in a good mood – she’d accepted that. But the part of her brain that was still in that university art room wished she was enough for him to look at her and want her.

Bash had zero interest in her. Nothing.Nada.His sleeping body had felt the warmth of a woman pressed against him and decided it was time to procreate. His hard-on had nothing to do withherwhatsoever.

And shewouldn’tthink about any hypothetical baby any kind of procreation with Bash might produce – not since the night where their friends had taken pictures of each other and used an app to predict what the babies of various couplings would look like. According to the app, a Whittaker-Phillips-Dumont baby would be adorable. And sometimes, when Faye thought about what she wanted in her future, that image sprang forwards and danced across her eyes.

She didn’t know what compelled her to cross around the room and take Bash’s stubbly face into her hands.

“Thank you for apologising,” she said, his devastating eyes blinking widely up at her. “Though for you and me, I think it’s more awkward than harassment. I know this wasn’t on purpose so don’t worry.”

Under his rumpled t-shirt, Bash’s shoulders inched lower. “Are you sure?”

“Mm-hm.” She ruffled up his hair, the sibling-like gesture sure to cool his body down.

Bash grumbled as he dragged his fingers through his hair until it sat relatively normally, and Faye backed through her bedroom, trying to hide her smile at his cute, semi-annoyed frown.

“You’re rather calm about this,” he mused.

If only you knew.Years on since they’d met, and Faye had learned how to hide her feelings well.

“I think I’ve had too much stress for one night to be freaking out about anything right now.”

Peeling herself out of Bash’s hoodie – which there was no way to do gracefully – she caught the quick flick away of his eyes and movement of his throat before she tossed it towards him. He was still embarrassed of his situation down below and Faye had no idea how to help. Lend a hand, perhaps?

No, Faye. Stop it.

She plucked a white, button-up blouse from her wardrobe, one of several she alternated beneath her apron at work, and hesitatedin front of her underwear drawer. Bash hadn’t moved from within her bed and she didn’t need to ask why. She planned on grabbing her underwear discreetly and disappearing to her bathroom to give him a minute whilst she got dressed. But since they were apologising to one another …

“I’m so sorry about last night. I just … panicked.”

“It’s okay, Peanut. Seriously.” Bash looked at her with such tenderness in his eyes, the awkwardness in her stomach melted away. “I meant what I said. You can call me whenever you’re scared and you know I’ll always answer.”

He might always answer, but he wouldn’t always be there, would he? What if he found that person who he wanted to spend his life with? How were they going to feel if he rushed out in the middle of the night to sleep in another woman’s bed? And what was she going to do when she was two hundred miles away?

When he said things like that … all Faye felt once the warmth in her heart had faded was scared. Scared that one day those sweet words would stop coming – directed to someone else instead. How much her heart wished he’d stay single forever was entirely cruel and she battled those feelings each time their eyes locked. The feeble ‘pick me’ attitude she despised so much.

Somehow, and relatively soon, she would have to learn to live without him. She was moving away to a different city entirely, so even if Bashdidwant a romantic relationship with her, it wouldn’t be fair to start one now when she couldn’t logistically keep it going.

Faye stood with her trousers bundled up against her body and her shirt hanging from her fingertip, openly staring at him. The angry bruise on his cheek had darkened overnight. Perhaps her hormones had kickstarted some primal need within her to take care of the wounded, rugged man, but his attractiveness hiked up a notch with that blue bruise and his wild bed hair.

Her inhale sharpened.

She needed to saysomething.

“My stall at the Christmas market is tomorrow and I need to work on some new recipes.”

Bash looked stunned for a moment. Maybe her change in topic was too far? “Would you … like some help?”

“No - no. I’ve taken up too much of your life for one day anyway. I’ll be fine.” Her thin smile, Faye hoped, was reassuring.

It was now or never to grab a fresh pair of underwear from her drawer, since Bash still firmly held the pillow in his lap and looked as though he wasn’t going anywhere soon. If she delayed her morning any further then she was going to be late.

She didn’t give herself a second to overthink this and half turned from him, grabbing whatever underwear was there on top when she snapped the drawer open and shut again.Wordsmight distract him from the embarrassingly old and plain knickers and bra she tried to tuck beneath the bundled trousers.

Distraction.

“Thank you for being here.”

Lips pursed, Bash nodded. He met her eyes andonlyher eyes, and something in Faye’s brain popped up to wave a white flag saying ‘retreat’ before this got more awkward.

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