His eyes stay down.
“Is it because that is one thing that you can control? That the things around you are as you want them to be.”
“I guess,” he whispers sadly.
I smile broadly. “I’m messy, Alastar.”
He smirks as his eyes meet mine. “I know.”
“I don’t like order and I don’t worry about the future. And now that I have you loving me, I feel like I couldn’t possibly ever have to worry again.” He smiles as his lips touch mine and I kiss him softly.
“Stop worrying. Everything is going to be good. We don’t want control. Surrender yourself to happiness,” I whisper.
He squeezes me tightly and I know that something I have said has somehow struck a chord with him. We lie still in the darkness as Alastar holds onto me for dear life.
* * *
I wake to the sound of purring. What in the hell is that? I frown as I look around. Fraidy is sitting on the floor next to my side of the bed, staring up at me. I go to the bathroom with him walking around my feet.
“Are you hungry, boy?” I ask in a whisper.
My eyes glance to the beautiful man sleeping in bed. His dark curly hair is splayed over his face and his olive skin is on display. He is on his back and I watch his chest rise and fall as he sleeps for a moment. If someone had told me three months ago that when I got to London, I would fall head over heels in love with an artistic photographer, I would have thought they were crazy. And yet, that is exactly what I has happened. I don’t think that moving in with Alastar this quick is the answer to my problems. We don’t even really know each other. My eyes roam up and down his perfect body, and yet… he loves me. My heart blooms with hope. I have never felt this way before or felt so connected with someone that I don’t even need to talk to them to feel close. It’s just there between us—an intimacy—this caring feeling, and I know that we do need to get to know each other. But really, it all just feels like semantics. I know him already. I love him already.
Fraidy meows up at me and I smile.
“Shh,” I whisper. “Okay, I’m coming.”
I walk downstairs to feed our annoying housemate and flick the coffee machine on. I should make breakfast today. Alastar has been waiting on me hand and foot. I feed Fraidy his biscuits and open the fridge to check out the choices. Hmm, my eyes scan through the ingredients. I pull out the drawer in the bottom of the fridge. Oh, good, bacon, mushrooms and eggs. Does he have any shallots? My eyes scan up and down. Nope. Hmm, I continue to search for a Spanish onion. I scratch my head as I think and look around the huge kitchen.
He must keep them in the cupboards. I open and close all of the cupboards. Each one filled with expensive crockery and utensils. He has the best of everything in here. Everything is top notch. Alastar O’shea you have expensive damn taste.
I finally locate an onion and set about making my Spanish Omelet. The house is quite dark. I look around, realizing I need to let some light in. Opening the kitchen and dining room blinds, I then walk out into the lounge area and pull back the expensive drapes, flicking the lights on, too. That’s better. I am on my way back into the kitchen when I notice the door down into the cellar. I frown. For some reason this doorway interests me and I turn the nob.
Locked. Surprise. But why is it always locked? My mind goes back to that dreadful day when I made a fool of myself. Alastar locked it before he left as if he didn’t want me to see inside. What does he keep in there that is so damn private? I put my ear up to the door to see if I can hear anything, I pull back and smile. What are you going to hear down there, idiot?
I walk back into the kitchen and make myself a coffee and start my chopping duties. I feel him before I see him. Large loving hands slink around my waist from behind and his lips fall on my neck.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he whispers against my face.
I smile broadly. “Good morning, Twinkle.”
“What’s cooking?” he mumbles.
I turn and face him. That accent is so fucking hot. “Spanish Omelet.”
He winks. “A personal favourite.”
I kiss him gently on the lips. “Mine, too.” I turn back to the coffee machine. “How do you like your coffee?” I ask. I need to learn this shit. I don’t even know how he takes his coffee.
His mischievous eyes hold mine. “Black and strong.”
“Oh.” I turn back to the coffee machine. I’ve never made a strong black coffee before. Wonder how you do that? I stand for a moment and read all of the buttons. I feel Alastar’s arms go around me again from behind. “Do you know how to make that?” He smirks.
“Of course I do.” Shit, I have no fucking idea.