Page 14 of Take My Breath Away
We’ll sort something out but not just yet.
Aiden doesn’t reply and I guess he’s taken the hint that the conversation for now is at an end. I power down my phone and set it aside.
Switching off the TV, I leap up from the sofa. I’m feeling restless, suddenly, and for a moment I wonder if I should change and go for a run. It’s what I do, day or night, when I’ve got an excess of nervous energy, and for some reason I’m overflowing with it now. I dismiss it for the bad idea it is, as the curry’s siting like a stone in my stomach, but the real reason for not pounding the nighttime streets is because of the exhausted, defeated young man sleeping upstairs.
Back in the kitchen, I pull out another beer. Popping the cap, I drink deeply as Aiden’s words spin around in my head.
Will Perry cramp my style, as he puts it? I suppose he will, for the time he’s here. When he leaves, normal service will be resumed. I suppose. Maybe he wouldn’t bat an eyelid at a stream of anonymous men appearing at the house but I don’t want to give him the chance for any batting, especially not with his impossibly long lashes.
My gaze falls to the books Perry brought back with him, perching on the edge of the table. I hadn’t taken any notice of them earlier, too intent on looking after Perry. They’re big, thick hardbacks and their titles surprise me.
Advanced Sugarcraft Techniques, andProfessional Sugarcraft.
I put down my beer, and flick through. Glossy photographs of cakes covered in intricate and complex icing, they’re works of art. Celebration cakes of all descriptions, this isn’t cake decorating for the faint of heart. With their arty photography, these could almost be coffee table books but the pages of detailed instructions and diagrams put that idea to rest.
Many of the recipes have hand-written notes jotted down next to them, and some parts have been highlighted in bright yellow. Splatters and greasy finger prints are evidence the books are well used. It’s a side to Perry I never knew existed, and despite being full, my mouth waters. I’ve a sweet tooth, and even though I try my best to resist a slice or three of cake, I don’t always succeed.
The events that have brought him to my home have brought change with them, at least for now. I’m more than okay with that because Perry needs my help and I’m willing to give him exactly that. I’ll help him to get himself sorted out and then maybe he’ll meet a nice boy who’ll appreciate all that shy sweetness. A nice boy just like him. As for me, I’ll resume what Elliot always describes as myslutty ways.
I quickly finish off the beer and make my way upstairs to bed with that thought ringing in my ears. Yes, normal, predictable service will be resumed. It leaves me stone cold.
Chapter Eight
PERRY
It’s early, barely light, but I creep downstairs to the kitchen as quietly as I can. I’ve had more sleep in the last day than I’ve had in weeks, but I’ve been awake for almost an hour and I’m desperate for a cup of coffee. The most basic instant will do, although I’m sure a man like James wouldn’t have any of that in the house.
I wonder if he’ll mind me helping myself like this. In fact, I wonder if he’ll regret his actions. Bringing me back here and assuming some kind of responsibility — although I’m not his responsibility at all — is a huge gesture. I’m glad of it, more glad than he could know, but I can’t rely on it for too long, and I’m determined to get myself sorted out as soon as possible. Because I can sort out my own life, and take responsibility for myself. I did it pre-Grant and I can do it post-Grant. If I make it my mantra, recite it like a prayer morning, noon, and night, I might even come to believe it.
There is instant coffee, it’s a small jar of something good, but there’s also an all-singing, all-dancing coffee machine and I know exactly how to work it because there’s the same model at work. I hadn’t noticed it yesterday, but I wasn’t in a fit enough state to notice very much at all.
It doesn’t take me long to get the thing going and I throw nervous glances towards the open kitchen door. I’m sure James wouldn’t mind, but it does feel a little strange to be tip toeing around his kitchen and making myself at home.
Pouring myself a cup, I stand by the doors leading out to the long back garden. The sun’s only just coming up, and a light mist hangs in the air, softening the summer sunrise.
It’s a lovely garden, mature and secluded, and although we’re in the middle of busy Highgate, no houses intrude on its privacy. It’s a world away from the flat I shared with Grant… I press my head against the cool window and my breath leaves a little circle of mist. I’ve got so much to do and think about, and honestly, it feels overwhelming.
“Oh God,” I whisper.
“Almost, but not quite. But I’m working towards it.”
I swing around, almost dropping my coffee. James is standing in the doorway.
He’s in running gear, the Lycra moulding itself to his flat stomach and strong thighs, and outlining the impressive bulge between his legs. His face is a little flushed, and his ash grey hair’s sweat soaked and plastered to his head. He’s fit and strong, and even hot and sweaty, he looks incredible. But it’s not so much his physical presence that makes my mouth water, it’s his confidence. It’s so well honed, it borders on arrogance. Maybe it comes with age and experience, or maybe it’s just because he’s James. Whatever it is, the whole silver fox thing’s as sexy as fuck.
My breath hitches, my mouth goes dry and my heart almost crashes through my ribcage as he strides towards me, full of purpose. He stops at the sink where he fills up a pint glass and glugs it back as I gaze, transfixed, at his Adam’s apple moving like a piston.
“That’s better.” He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth before he narrows his eyes and gives me his lopsided smile.
“I’m sorry, I hope you don’t mind?” I croak as I hold up my mug. “I just thought—”
“Of course not, I want you to make yourself at home. Did you sleep well?” he asks, as he leans against the edge of the sink.
I nod. “Whatever it was you gave me, I had the best night’s sleep in a long time.”
“Good. I stink to high heaven so I’m going to jump in the shower. You get the breakfast on, and I’ll be down in about twenty minutes.”
James doesn’t give me time to answer as he swings round on his heel and heads out of the kitchen. I stare after him for a moment, before I open the fridge and get to work.
