Page 10 of After the Rain
“If you cook too well, I might never let you leave,” he says with sincerity in his tone. That tightness in my chest pulls again, and I have to consciously stop myself from saying that that would be just fine with me. Instead, I feel a shy grin stretch across my face, and I look down to concentrate on writing a list.
Six
Aidan
Ipush open the heavy door to Poppy’s café and hold it open for Rain. We choose a seat at one of the two booths on the left-hand side of the small café, and Rain immediately grabs a menu, busying himself with looking at what’s on offer. I know this menu almost by heart at this point, so I don’t bother to look; instead, I wave and smile at Poppy, my mate Chris’ wife, who runs the café and does all the baking. Chris is the chef, but he never shows his grumpy face on this side of the counter. Thankfully, for me at least, the café tables are quiet, since most of Poppy’s orders are for delivery to the farms and other boat yards in the area. Her younger sister, Rachael, does all the deliveries in Poppy’s small vintage van.
Things feel a bit awkward between me and Rain since we left my house. We had a couple of weird moments this morning, where all I wanted to do was kiss him, hold him close, and protecthim from the world. I thought he might want those things, too, but then logic kicked in, and I realised that Rain has only just walked away from a violent relationship and has rocked up in some Broadland village, staying with a gruff, anxious mess. Of course, he doesn’t want those things. But I do, and I don’t understand how I can feel this drawn to someone after only a few days. Some of the tools to manage my anxiety that Angela taught me slip into my head, and I remember that if I keep focusing on ‘coulda, woulda, shoulda’, I will spiral into panic mode. So instead, I have to just focus on each day, feel all the feelings, and let life happen. I take a deep, grounding breath and try to get my head to accept that, yes, I like Rain and feel some kind of protectiveness over him. And that is OK.
I look at him across from me in the booth and catch him chewing on his bottom lip as he tries to decide what he wants. I groan internally. Feel all the feelings. Even the inconvenient boner-type feelings. Got it.
“I’m going to have the spiced apple, raisin, and cinnamon-topped waffles, and a cup of tea. What about you?” Rain looks up at me, his eyes wide with excitement, presumably for his waffles. I can relate. The spiced apple waffles are my favourite, and I have them every time I come in here.
“The same, actually. It’s my favourite.” His grin makes the breath catch in my lungs, and before he can get himself up and out of the booth, I’m already heading to the counter and pulling out my wallet.
Poppy’s shrewd brown eyes watch me as I walk across the café, and she peeks over my shoulder to look at Rain as I arrive in front of her.
“Is that your new houseguest? The one who the sausage rolls were for?” she asks in a soft whisper. “Nash came in the other day and said you had met someone in a bit of a bind, and he was staying with you.” I clear my throat.
“Erm, yep. That’s him. His name is Rain.”
“Rain? That’s such a lovely name. Is he OK?” I huff out a breath and smile warmly at Poppy. That is just her all over. Sweet, caring, and ready to mother every lost soul she finds.
“He’s, uhm, OK-ish,” I hedge. “He’s been through the wringer a bit, but he’s safe staying with me. Do you… never mind.” I look away and glance out the window that faces the side of the café onto the green, where the duck pond is.
“No, don’t do that. Do I what?” she presses. The annoying thing about two of your oldest friends getting married is that they fill in the gaps they each had about you, and so they create a sort of combined, double-teaming, know-it-all,super-friend who calls you on your shit at every opportunity. I sigh.
“Well, I…” I take a breath and just ask the question that has been buzzing around in my head for three days. “I know he needs money, and we need help at DB,” Poppy snorts at my refusal to refer to our company by its full name. DB is just fine, thank you very much. “Is it mad to offer him the office job? Wren doesn’t really have time to start helping again in the spring, when we have our first bookings this year, and it might be good for someone new to have time to get the place sorted before it gets busy.” She looks at me with a quizzical look on her face.
“Why would that be mad?” she asks. “He needs a job, and you need staff. As long as he’s capable of helping and not actually making things worse, then what’s the harm?” I don’t respond, and she tilts her head to the side as she studies me. “Oh. My. God. You like him!” she whisper-shouts. I feel a blush rising up my neck and across my face. “Ohmigod, you really do like him. Look at that blush!” She looks toward the kitchen. “Chris!” she shouts suddenly, the sound a shock after our hushed conversation. Sure enough, not two seconds later, Chris’ sour face appears through the swinging door that leads to the kitchen.
“What?” he asks. I snort.Grumpy fucker.
“Aidan likes someone. Like, helikeslikes someone.” Poppy is almost vibrating with excitement.
“Is this news? I would have thought that was obvious, as soon as Nash said he’d offered that kid somewhere to stay?”
“He’s not a kid,” I say firmly, to which they both look at me and hold up matching defensive hands. Fucking super-friends.
“Well, excuuuse me,” Chris singsongs, sarcastically. “But seriously, is this a shock? Aidan never speaks to anyone unless their surname is Foster, they run a pub or are, you know, us. Then, all of a sudden, he finds some ki—” His words cut off as I glare at him. “Man,” he corrects, “who needs help and, in a move completely unlike him, he’s like ‘move in with me’. Was that not a clue?” I stare at them both, Chris mildly amused, and confused by the fact that apparently it was obvious, and Poppy quivering with the need to start matchmaking. That thought brings me back to reality.
“No!” I say firmly to Poppy, pointing at her. “None of that! And we’ll have two of my usual, please. Thank you.” I turn to the till and wave my debit card about until Poppy takes the hint, puts our order through the till, and lets me pay. I turn abruptly and walk back to Rain, feeling somewhat nervous about the question I want to ask him.
Rain places his knife and fork down on his plate and leans back in his seat, resting his hands over his stomach. “Oh my god! That was insanely good. I haven’t eaten that much food in ages!” I smile at the almost reverent expression on his face.
“How come?” I ask, curious as to why he hasn’t eaten what I’d call a normal meal in ages.
“Well, I mean, obviously, I’ve eaten, but I’m a dancer, so I have to be careful aboutwhatI eat most of the time. I need big, strong muscles,” he grins around his words as he holds up his arms like Popeye, indicating his biceps, which are currently hidden inside my plaid fleece.
“A dancer?” I ask, intrigued. That explains those lean muscles and his tight, pert…Get your mind out of the gutter, Aidan Foster!He blushes and looks down.
“Well, I was. I loved it, but I’m not sure I want to do it anymore.” His words trail off so quietly, I struggle to hear him.
“Why not?” I have a feeling I’m not going to like the answer to that question. He starts chewing on his lip again, and I want to reach out, pluck it out of his teeth, and soothe it with my tongue.
“Well,” he hesitates, then looks up at me,capturing my gaze with his aquamarine eyes – clear, and piercing, despite the slightly green-hued bruises still marring his beautiful face. “I’m a pole dancer. It’s not as gross as you might think. It takes a lot of athleticism and strength to do it well, and I was pretty good, but Dan, my ex, he, uhm, kind of forced me into dancing in his brother’s seedy club. So, it just kind of lost its appeal.” Rain’s words hit me full force in the chest.
“So, you loved it, but he ruined it for you?” I say, simplifying things to an almost ridiculous degree.
