Page 56 of Strawberry Kisses

Chapter Twenty-Five

Patrick

There was still a smile on my face when Aaron found me in the kitchen on Friday morning.

I’d hardly seen him all week, both of us working different services and being rushed off our feet when we were at The Pear Tree together, so we hadn’t had a chance to chat. But I was pleased when he stuck his head around the wall of the pastry kitchen, an easy smile on his face.

“Long time no see, stranger.”

“It’s only been a week,” I said with a smile as I rolled out some dough for scones. The afternoon tea booking was full, and I was going to need at least a hundred.

“That’s a long time for us. I missed you.”

“Did you really?”

“Well, I missed having someone to vent at.” Aaron grinned and leant against the wall.

“I see the swear jar is gone.” I raised an eyebrow at him. Unsurprisingly, the jar had been conspicuously absent when I’d turned up on Tuesday morning. “How long did it last?”

“Sadly, the jar was broken beyond repair on Friday evening,” Aaron said, attempting to fake some sort of sincerity. “So it had to go into the bin.”

“And you didn’t get another one?”

“An attempt was made.”

“Did that one break beyond repair too?” I asked as I grabbed my cutters from the plastic tub on the shelf above my head. They were old metal ones I’d had for years, but they were the absolute perfect size for scones, and I refused to replace them.

“Yuuup.” Aaron tried to look contrite, but like the sincerity, it was a poor imitation. “So, how was your weekend? Did you and Connor have fun?”

“It was nice.” I didn’t look up at him, but it was hard to hide the smile on my face. “It was good to see my family again, and Mum and Da loved the cake. There wasn’t any left by Monday, although that was because Da and Connor polished off the leftovers.”

“Good. And they liked Connor?”

“Yeah, they did. They think he’s good for me.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realised how deeply I’d suddenly put my foot in it. I hadn’t told Aaron we were dating, fake or otherwise. But apparently my brain hadn’t thought about any of that before I opened my mouth. I looked up at Aaron, expecting to see a smirk or for something snarky to come out of his mouth, but instead his smile was soft.

“So, you’re dating then? I thought you might be. I’m so fucking happy for you, Pads.”

“Thanks, but we’re, um, we’re not really…” I trailed off because I wasn’t really sure where to go from there or how much to admit to. Connor and I had never talked about what we’d say if anyone else—outside my family—found out. The obvious answer was just to come clean and tell Aaron everything, or I could laugh it off and say we were just friends.

The second option didn’t feel true anymore though. Connor and I had crossed a line over the past week and were now so far over it, I didn’t know where the line was anymore. It would have been one thing if we’d acted as just friends while we were away, at least in private, but we hadn’t.

It would have been another thing if we’d stopped doing whatever the hell we were doing as soon as we’d come home. But we hadn’t. Not only had we had sex on Monday night, but Connor had ended up at my house every night since then and each evening had ended with some kissing at minimum. Most of the kissing had been accompanied by Connor’s hands, or mouth, down my trousers.

The fact that we’d been doing all of that had not helped my emotions. Especially because a small part of me wondered if this was what a relationship might be like. I couldn’t imagine how it would be any different. And that was making me even more confused because my heart and head were now at war—one convinced Connor could never want me, and one telling me to look at the evidence in front of me.

Perhaps I wouldn’t have felt so confused if we’d talked about it, but both of us had firmly refused to initiate that conversation. We’d just stubbornly continued on as “best friends”, which apparently now came with benefits.

“Are you two just banging then?” Much as I loved Aaron, he was not a subtle man. “Like a friends-with-benefits kinda thing?”

“Um, maybe?”

“How is this a maybe?” He laughed. “Are you fucking?”

“Well, er, yes,” I mumbled.

“But you’re not dating?”

“Not technically.” I sighed. “It’s complicated.”

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