Page 86 of Not That Ridiculous

“How come you didn’t think you’d have a boyfriend, then? Are you not into relationships? That’s a thing, isn’t it? Did you not want one?”

I fired up the machine. Yes, I’d wanted one. I’d dreamed of it. I’d just…given up. I didn’t want to be a downer and tell Kevin that, though. Instead, I shrugged, and said, “Sort of didn’t think I’d meet my guy.”

“Too busy working.” Kevin came up behind me and pushed me against the counter.

I laughed. “If you start that again—” I warned.

He got his teeth on my neck and growled. “I won’t.”

“Youare.” He was rocking lightly into my arse.

“Sorry.” He let me go and leaned back against the counter instead, crossing his arms under his chest and tucking his hands under his armpits.

“Yes, I’ve been too busy working.”

Kevin disapproved. “You haven’t had time to do anything, have you?”

I held up a finger while I concentrated on getting the swan on his latte right. The head was too large, but it wasn’t half bad. “Here you go.” I slid the cup carefully across the counter to him.

“Ooh. A duck!”

“It’s a swan.” I went to snatch it back but he batted my hand away.

“It’s a perfect swan,” he said. “Thank you.”

I made another one while he sipped happily at his latte, and this time I did a leaf.

“That swan’s much better,” he said.

“It’s a leaf!” I twisted to glare at him, and found him watching me fondly.

“I know. Where’s my brownie, then?”

“My god, you’re a bottomless pit.” I passed him the plate of brownies, unsurprised when he took the whole thing rather than one off the top.

“Yep. Got to keep this machine fuelled up and ready to perform.” He stuffed a brownie in his mouth and dropped his head back with a decadent moan. “Amazing.”

“Shouldn’t you be fuelling up with things like steak and kale and buckets of water, rather than pasta and lattes and brownies?”

He shrugged. “Fuel is fuel, Charlie. If I want it, I assume my body needs it. I tried eating for gains a couple of years ago but I can’t tell you how miserable it made me. There I was, walking around with a really short list of things I’m allowed to eat and a really long list of things I’m never supposed to touch. It was stupid and I thought, fuck it. I want pizza and freedom, not a six-pack.”

“Sounds like you’ve got your priorities straight.”

“Yup.” His hand hovered over a second brownie and he sent me a questioning look.

“Eat them all if you like,” I said. “Except for this one.” I snagged one for myself.

“Think I’ll save a couple for after,” he said, and grinned when I blushed.

Aftermeaning after the sex we were trembling on the brink of having.

I cleared my throat, switched off the Gaggia, and took the milk jug over to the sink. I filled it with hot water and washing-up liquid and left it to soak.

“How is it that you’ve been living here a couple of years and you still haven’t got round to fixing the place up yet?” he asked. “Is it a money thing or a time thing?”

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other. Everything seemed to change all at once. I bought the house one month, and the next month, my parents up and decided to retire early and go and live in Spain. That meant selling the family home, obviously, and…and the shop.”

I went to stand beside him as he mowed his way through the plate of brownies. He shifted closer until our shoulders were touching.

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