Page 37 of Only Ever You

What went on in his mind when he was asleep was beyond Bash’s control, but in broad daylight those thoughts were beyond torturous. After a decade of friendship, and many years of being stuck in this perpetual state of daydreaming, they were bound to have cropped up at least once.

Faye chewed, and then her shoulders sank with an appreciative moan that went straight to Bash’s?—

“Mmm,” she crooned, covering her mouth. “This is delicious.” Her compliments came around another bite. “So buttery.”

Tingles spread along the sensitive skin of his palm where Bash realised he still touched her. And with that sound of her humming …

He let his hand fall away back to his pocket in the nonchalant way he’d had a long time to perfect. There was something within him that often simplyneededto touch her – a small point of contact that automatically made him feel calmer. But he couldn’t do it constantly, there were still boundaries between them after all, so he timed his touches to when they laughed, or when Faye looked like she needed reassurance, and he treasured every hug she gave.

Michèle looked pleased by the compliments. “Pastry is for the soul.”Wise words.“There is always more, so eat as much as you’d like. Sebby, you too.”

Bash reached for one, just one (for now), and marvelled at the butteriness like Faye had done. There was no better croissant than those from a French woman who had all of the time in the world to bake. For a moment, he was catapulted straight back to his early childhood where he and Matt had a continental breakfast in their twin bunk beds on Sunday mornings.

“So, Faye, Sebby tells us that you are having trouble with your apartment?” Michèle settled onto one of the adjacent stools across the island. A slightly insensitive opening gambit, Bash thought as he tried not to narrow his eyes, but Faye’s presence in his mother’s kitchen at Christmaswasthe tiny elephant in the room.

Faye took an extra second to swallow another piece of croissant. “Yes, my boiler.”

Arthur scooped a spoonful of potato salad onto a plate. “Why don’t you move in with Sébastien?” Just as quick as he’d asked, he levelled Bash with a steeled look. “I hope you’ve offered Faye your guestroom, son.”

Bash had had this argument with himself already. “Dad?—”

“He is neat and tidy.” Michèle interrupted like she was trying to rehome a stray. “And he has washed his own underwear since he was thirteen?—”

“Maman!”

Faye giggled behind her hand.

Bash dragged his palm down his face.God,this was mortifying.

Michèle put her delicate hand to her chest. “What? We are your parents!” A fact that Bash wished wasn’t true right then. He loved them but they had zero tact. “We have not had much chance to tell all of the stories that we have saved for this moment.”

“Stories?” ... Plural?

Bash wanted to scoop Faye up and run with her out of the door. Regaling her with embarrassing tales of his childhood hadnotbeen the plan.

Twisting to face Faye head on, his mother leant in, and damn Faye, she leant in too.

“When Sébastien was little,” Michèle began as a bolt of fear for which unexpected tale she would spin out splintered down through Bash, “we holidayed to Montpellier. One day at the beach, we turn around, and what do we see?” Enraptured, Faye’s lips parted like she’d silently gasped in anticipation. Arthur already smirked. “He has stripped himself naked and run off through the sand towards the ice cream stand.”

The laugh that burst from Faye would’ve been even more delightful to Bash’s ears if his childhood escapadeshadn’tbeen the cause.

Who was he kidding? He devoured that sound. But he had a façade to keep up.

Tossing his head back, he groaned. His parents were doing this on purpose but he couldn’t work out why. If this was what it was like to bring a woman home to your family then he would never do it again.Ever.With Matt finished with his procreation,Mamancould say goodbye to having any more grandchildren.

Nope, Faye was it. The last.

“His tiny little cheeks bounced everywhere?—”

“Maman!”

“And she doesn’t mean the ones on his face.” Arthur leant into the laughter with a perfectly timed wink.

Faye’s laughter turned to wheezing as she grabbed her side, and the smile threatening to break through Bash’s indignant pout levelled up to code red.

Folding his arms, he shook his head at the three of them. “We are not doing this. I’m not going to listen to this abuse.”

Faye’s grin was wicked. “No! Please, keep them coming.” She was as ruthless as his mother today. Bash knew it was a bad idea to put them in a room together.