Page 3 of Only Ever You

Ask him out.

You can do it.

She’d ask to see him tomorrow night at this cosy little bar she knew of not far from her student accommodation, but Bash levered up from where he’d crouched with his backpack at a startling speed and spoke first.

“You know, you never answered me about that drink offer,” he said, pushing back the waves of his hair that fell into his forehead. “A few of us usually go out after the session; find a pub somewhere.” He looked directly at her as Faye’s heart stumbled. “You’re welcome to join us.”

The left-field offer made her feet freeze to the spot and her fingers grip the handles of her tote. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting, but it was close enough. Perhaps then, if he gave her the right signal, she could muster enough courage and ask him for a repeat tomorrow night.Alone.

She rubbed her palm against her jeans, asking, “Won’t the others mind?” While he hitched his backpack onto his shoulders one strap at a time.

“They won’t. And I’m the one inviting you, anyway.” Bash smiled victoriously before she’d even agreed, and Faye’s mouth fought against the biggest smile she’d had all day.

It was nice to feel chosen.

“Okay then.” She could’ve bounced with nervous excitement.

On their way out, she made sure to tell the society’s presidentthat she’d like to come back again next week, before following Bash through the door. Those stools had been deceiving, because her brain registered for the first time how tall he was, or more rather, her own lack of vertical aptitude. He pushed open the door into the hallway for her where other student groups filtered out of adjacent rooms.

“There you are!” A young woman bounced towards them and flung herself at Bash. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he circled her slim waist, and in that second Faye’s heart and hope curled up and tucked itself back within its cave.

Of course Bash would have someone. He was kind, very genuine in their two hours together, and had made her laugh. All things that drew her to him. So why would he be single?

“You could’ve told me the room had changed,” the redhead said playfully right before smacking her lips to Bash’s. He returned her kiss and nobody else in their gathering group of pub-goers seemed to care for the publicness of their affection.

Feeling like she stood too close, Faye shuffled back, clutching her tote to her body like a shield.

When their lips finally unlocked, Bash’s head spun her way, dots of red on his cheeks. “Faye this is Kiera. Kiera this is Faye.” He twisted back to his girlfriend, or hookup, or whoever Kiera was to him. “Faye just joined ‘ArtSoc’. She’s coming with us to the pub.”

Kiera gave her a small wave with perfectly French-tipped nails, wearing the blue and white stripes of the varsity uniform. “Hi.”

“Hi,” was all Faye could politely manage in return through her disappointment.

They walked on, and she gave the couple their distance, only for Bash to keep on spinning the conversation towards her. He probably just felt sorry that she knew no one else. He was the first person she’d met outside of those in her flat who seemed to actually want to be her friend. He’d laughed at her pitiful, flustered attempts at jokes and told her where to go for the bestpastries in town on a student’s budget – a secret he apparently didn’t share all that often.

He’d treated her as a friend and right then, in a new city, completely alone, she needed to find those.

So Faye wasn’t going to let onegirlfriendmean that she’d let Bash’s friendship go.

2

FAYE

“Sorry I’m late!”

Shuffling his way through the crowd fillingSamuel’sthis evening, Bash made Faye’s heart stumble that old, familiar missed beat. Her eyes naturally clocked his windswept form squeezing through the line at the bar towards them.

They’d crammed their group of five around one table sticky with condensing residue of their drinks, while the live band crooned the beginnings of another jazz piece for their warm-up.Samuel’swas the hottest jazz ticket north of the river on an ordinary day, but entrance to their themed nights were an even rarer win. This was their third year in a row where they’d managed to snag tickets for a Christmas show, courtesy of Bash who was the last to arrive, full of apologies for the incident that caused his tube station to close for half an hour.

He said hello to everyone, garnered a run-down of how Maisie’s grandma’s broken wrist had happened yesterday (an incident involving a hefty amount of lubricant and Vera’s seventy-three year old boyfriend. Maisie hadn’t wanted to know the details).

“I have your drink.” Faye scooted the glass over an inch as Bashshrugged himself out of his winter coat and draped it over the chair they’d managed to save for him from the vultures who’d eyed it for half an hour.

Each of his movements were hard to ignore.Hewas hard to ignore. It was a feat Faye’d been attempting and repeatedly failing ever since she was eighteen.

Breathing in steadily, she casually fluffed out her bottle-blonde hair which touched her shoulders and took him in. His forest green jumper over a white t-shirt softened him with all of the rounded necklines and seams – an outfit meaning he’d spent his day in casual meetings with his business partner, Bennet, or poring over sketches with a fine toothed comb.

“Thanks, Faye.” Sniffling his pink nose bitten by the winter’s chill outside, Bash glugged a swig of amber, getting foam caught on the five o’clock shadow over his lip, before sitting down. He pulled off the beanie from his head and proceeded to neaten up his dishevelled hair. It was still dark after all this time, practically black in the low light of the ceiling lamp between them. Andthick– the kind of thickness many females would go to war over.

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