Chapter two
“Cookie!”
Peter’s booming voice cut through the room when I entered, causing everyone else to turn and smile at me. Flo, feeling satisfied she’d showed me enough affection, ran off through the French doors leading to the back garden. “What’s up, man?” Peter gave me a one-armed hug as I approached him, holding two of my cookies in his other hand.
I sat down next to him and we chatted about nothing in particular for a while. I loved Peter like a brother. He was on my team for two years, and we came back home together in pieces. The bomb that had claimed my leg had injured Peter even worse. He still had all his limbs attached, but he was missing a kidney, had a pacemaker fit in, and horrific burns all over his body, including his face. Pain was a constant presence in his life now, and he had to pop painkillers like candy to be able to get a few hours sleep at night.
Peter never told me any of that. His smile never left his face and he never complained, but I knew. Life had chewed him alive and spit him raw, and still, Peter was happy. He was happy to be alive even if his body was letting him down more often than not; he was happy to be able to hug his wife every day and tuck his kids in bed every night, and visit his parents for Christmas.
Peter’s attitude was inspiring, not only to me but to every other veteran treated at the centre. To me, Peter was more than a brother. He was the man that had dragged my body out of a burning building and saved my life.
“So,” Peter said, louder than necessary and didn’t continue until I found my way out of my own head and looked at him. His brown eyes were kind, but he always looked at me with a touch of concern. Now was no different. “You coming to dinner Saturday?”
“Do I have a choice?” I said with an exaggerated sigh. I loved going to dinner at Peter’s place, and he damn well knew it.
“Not really. If you try to be difficult about it I’ll just set Jane on you,” he said with a shrug.
I shook my head and bit my lip to hide my smile. Jane, Peter’s wife, was a five-foot-two firecracker who loved to fuss over me. I didn’t mind.
“You can always bring someone with you,” Peter said, the serious note in his voice making my gut clench. “You know that, right?”
I nodded. Peter was one of the few people I’d told I was gay when we were back in Afghanistan. After the way my own father had reacted when he’d found out, I had a hard time trusting people with that information. For a long time I blamed my dad’s very traditional Indian upbringing and his conservative family back in Delhi for his reaction. But as time passed, and I became more comfortable in my own skin, I realised there was no excuse.
Peter had never had a problem with my sexuality. Jane had tried to set me up with someone when we’d first gotten back, but gave up soon after. I hadn’t been ready back then.
I hadn’t been ready when I was lying in bed, alone, trying to stifle my angry, helpless screams in my pillow.
I hadn’t been ready when I’d put my prosthetic leg on and go to a dark, suffocating club to get off with a pretty boy in the bathroom, not allowing him to put his hands on my bare torso, fearing he’d be disgusted with my disfigured skin.
I hadn’t been ready, months later, when I was lying in bed with Shane and he told me he loved me, and I ran.
Now? I wasn’t sure. An image of caramel guy sprang to mind so unexpectedly that it threw me off kilter. I remembered his wicked smile and the kindness in his blue eyes, and imagined how warm, how soft his skin would be beneath my fingers.
“Ready?” Shane’s voice sounded right next to me, making me jump. I was slowly losing all my fighting instincts if I couldn't sense him coming close until it was too late.
“Sure thing,” Peter said, and stood up, using the chair’s arm for support. He patted my shoulder as he passed by me and followed Shane into the physical therapy room.
“Amir?” I raised my eyes to meet Shane’s across the room. “Stay?”
I nodded.
I had nowhere better to be anyway.
******
I spent the next hour playing with Flo in the back garden and talking to everyone lounging around eating my cookies. I loved how their faces lit up when they saw me come in, knowing I’d bring them something delicious. These people had all been to war, seen horrific things, and could kill a man with their bare hands. And yet, the childish glee in their eyes when they shouted my nickname, ‘Cookie’, across the room and fought over the last cinnamon roll made my heart ache with affection.
“Amir!” I heard Shane yell from the open door. He beckoned me over with a jerk of his head and I stood up. Flo ran inside as if Shane had called her name and the guys laughed as I shook my head and waved goodbye.
Inside, I headed for the small kitchen right next to Shane’s office. As expected, I found him making two cups of tea, a plate with some chocolate chip cookies already waiting on the table.
“Thanks,” I said when he handed me a steaming mug.
Shane studied me as I took a careful sip, his green eyes boring into me. It was useless trying to hide how I really felt. From the moment I’d met him two years ago, Shane had taken one look at me and seen everything.
It scared the hell out of me.
“How have you been?” Shane asked as we made our way to the table. “I feel like we haven’t talked in ages even though you’re here every day.”
I came to the centre every morning to drop Flo off, and every evening to pick her up after work. Ever since Cookie’s opened I couldn’t even spare an hour to take her for a walk at lunch time. She loved it here – she could run in the garden and was spoiled rotten by everyone. Besides, she was a trained therapy dog. Her mission was to help people, and she did plenty of that here in the centre.
“I’m good,” I said, lowering my eyes to take another sip of tea.
Shane sighed. “Amir...”
“I’m fine, Shane,” I said, my voice harder than I intended. I met his eyes. “As fine as I’ll ever get. Some things you just can’t fix, alright?”
His jaw clenched and he looked away, but not in time to hide the pain in his eyes.
We’ve had this conversation before and it always ended the same way. Shane was a control freak that needed to do something, to mend what was broken. To help. Always to help. Unfortunately, he often chose the hardest cases, the men and women so shattered that they’d never be the same.
But Shane... He’d do the best he could for them or die trying, and I loved that about him, even though it infuriated me like nothing else.
“I don’t want to fight,” he whispered, still not looking at me.
God, I hated this. “Me neither.”
He nodded and we ate the cookies and drank our tea in silence for a while.
“How about we go out?” Shane suggested as he stood to take the empty plate and mugs to the sink.
“I don’t know...”
“Come on, Amir. It’ll be fun. God knows we both need some fun.” He turned around, placing his hands on the counter behind him, a cheeky smile on his face. “Like the good old times.”
I shook my head but couldn't help my own smile. We’d met in a club, danced and made out all night without even exchanging names. The very next day I’d come to the John Sherwood Centre for the first time only to find Dr Shane Sanford – the guy I’d kissed and groped all night – was my physiotherapist.
“Alright,” I said. “But let’s invite some people along.”
I couldn’t do this with Shane, not again, and he knew it, so he nodded in agreement.
******
The next day my heart rate picked up when I glanced at the people queuing to get their lunch treat. Caramel guy was right there, talking and laughing with a friend. His smile lit up the gloomy October day and made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, like a teenager on a first date. He chose that moment to look up at me and catch me in his blue gaze. For the life of me I couldn't look away. His smile faltered and his face grew serious, as he held my eyes, not paying any attention to his friend who kept talking right next to him.
And then he smiled. Just for me.
He smiled, his eyes sparkled and his cheeks dimpled, and I forgot how to breathe.
“You’re swooning,” Chris whispered in my ear, making me jump.
Damn her. The moment was broken. Caramel guy looked back at his friend and continued their conversation, I all but forgotten.
I continued to serve the rest of the people in line, my heart beating faster and faster the closer he came.
“You were right,” caramel guy said when it was his turn to order. “The brown butter caramels were the best I’ve ever had.” He winked and licked his lips as if trying to find the taste of the cookies again. “I’d like to have a dozen of them, in a take-away box, please. And an Eton Mess cookie for now.”
“Glad you liked them,” I said, then kicked myself for sounding so damn lame.
Chris moved to my right to take the next person’s order and not too discreetly shoved me further away towards the end of the counter. I guess that was her way of giving us some privacy but I still glared at her. Subtle she was not.
“What are you having, Cedric?” Caramel guy turned to his friend.
My eyes moved to Cedric and I hated him on sight. The guy was good-looking in a marble statue kind of way. His skin was flawless, and so were his clothes, his hair, and even his nails. He screamed posh, rich bastard and I wondered what caramel guy was doing with him.
“I don’t know...” Cedric drawled, looking over the display of cookies with displeasure.
Now, people could say anything they want about me. But once they look at my cookies as if they were something you scraped off the bottom of your shoe, we had a problem.
“The blueberry and lemon are amazing,” caramel guy supplied helpfully. Cedric wrinkled his nose.
“Do you have anything vegan?” Cedric asked, looking straight at me. The arrogance in his eyes threw me off, but I managed to plaster a polite smile before replying.
“No.”
“Since when are you a vegan?” Caramel guy said incredulously.
“I’m not. I just don't feel well right now and don’t want to upset my stomach with something too fatty.”
I swear to god, it took all my restraint not to punch him.
“Don’t be a dick,” caramel guy said in a low voice. He glanced apologetically at me, but I kept my expression neutral.
They continued to discuss Cedric’s cookie choice while I busied myself with packing caramel guy’s order. The euphoria I’d felt when I’d seen him five minutes ago was replaced by disappointment and regret. What was he doing with such a twat? If that was what all his friends were like, he must be an arrogant, spoiled rich kid as well. Right?
I was being judgemental and presumptuous but I couldn't help it. That guy Cedric gave me the creeps, and for some unidentifiable reason I didn't want him anywhere near caramel guy.
How pathetic – I didn't even know his name and I was feeling protective over him.
“There you go,” I said as I handed him the bag over the counter.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Caramel guy asked his friend, taking out his wallet to pay.
“Let’s just go, Jay,” Cedric said, glancing at his watch in annoyance. “We’re already late. We could have easily bought some biscuits at Marks and Spencer’s and not waited for a goddamn half an hour.”
Jay. His name was Jay.
I grinned, blind and deaf for Cedric’s tantrum.
His name was Jay.
A sudden rush of panic enveloped me, so strong that I gasped. I couldn't let him go. What if I never saw him again? What if his asshole friends talked him into going to Marks and Spencer’s for lunch from now on?
What if he never smiled at me again?
Jay handed me the money, his face scrunched in a frown. His eyes were apologetic and gentle as he met mine, and that gave me the strength to do what I did next.
I scribbled my phone number on the bakery’s business card and gave it to him along with his change.
It was a discreet gesture and thankfully Cedric-the-twat didn’t notice, but Jay did. I held my breath as I watched for his reaction.
He beamed. Really fucking beamed, his whole face lighting up.
“Thanks. I’ll see you later,” he said as he tucked his change and my number in his wallet.
I watched them walk away, feeling like a school boy with a crush. I hadn’t felt this good, this free in... Never, actually. I’d never felt like this; I didn’t know how to handle it. Panic started rising in me again and I hated my fucked up brain, jumping from euphoria to panic in less than a second.
“Why don’t you take a break, love?” Chris said next to me.
I glanced at the line of people, ready to refuse, but I saw there were only two people left. Chris could easily handle it.
Nodding, I left the shop through the back door. I’d never needed a cigarette more.
******
I wasn’t a smoker. I always kept a pack in my bag, but I rarely even remembered it was there. Smoking calmed me when I felt a panic attack closing in on me. Thankfully, those were rare these days. I also liked to light up when I was out, drinking and dancing. Which also didn't happen often these days, so a pack could easily last me for months.
I felt the rush of nicotine the moment I lit up. Leaning back against the wall, I pulled from the cigarette a few more times before I felt my body relax.
My reaction to Jay had really shaken me, and I had no idea why. The guy was beautiful – there was no other word for it – and I was insanely attracted to him, but that wasn’t all.
I couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before. In all honesty, I wasn’t sure what to do about it. One thing I was sure of, however: I liked the way I felt when Jay smiled at me. It rattled me inside, yeah, but I liked it.
******
I didn’t sleep well that night, so I dragged myself out of bed at 5 AM on a Saturday. After making a cup of strong coffee, I set on preparing a few batches of cookies, cinnamon rolls and brownies. Most week nights I’d prepare the batter, portion it, then freeze it and bake everything at the bakery in the morning. But since we opened late on weekends, I usually had enough time to bake everything before I got there. Chris and I made some extra batches of whatever was selling the most during the day, making sure the trays in the display window were never empty.
By the time I was done, it was nearly 8 AM. We opened at eleven on weekends so
I still had plenty of time for a run with Flo. She wagged her tail excitedly when she saw me put on my running prosthetic and unhook her leash from the coat hanger.
It was cold. Really fucking cold. The early morning fog didn’t help matters either. With a sigh, I put my hood over my head and we ran.
Flo was pretty good following my pace. I knew she’d rather run circles around me, but I’d trained her to be a good jogging partner from an early age.
The cold air burned my lungs at first. Soon, I relaxed into the mindless exercise and felt the fog in my head start to lift, just as the morning fog around the canals dissipated and the sun poked its head over the clouds. In the beginning, it had taken Shane months to convince me that not only could I do exercise despite my amputated leg, but it was also good for me. It felt weird at first, but he’d been right. I did feel good. I felt like me again.
I tried to go for a run and lift some weights at least three times a week now. My schedule was hectic, but I managed to find time. I wasn’t a big sleeper, even before I got blown up and the nightmares started, so early mornings worked best for me and Flo. She loved her morning run just as much as I did.
Soon, we reached our five mile marker and turned to go back. We followed a different route, through a park and then along the road until we reached our local park. Flo knew what that meant. Play time.
I threw her ball until my arm hurt. Flo, however, was as excited as ever, not showing any signs of fatigue. I laughed when she jumped mid-air to catch the ball, missed it, and then ran in circles until she found where the ball had actually landed.
It was barely 9 AM and the park was deserted. The sun was shining brighter now, warming me up, and I removed the hood from my head. I could hear the distant sounds of light traffic, shops getting ready to open, and a few people either going back home from a late night or hurrying to work.
It was peaceful. It was home. What I was used to.
“Hey,” I heard a voice say behind me, startling me. I turned and saw Jay jogging towards me, dressed in black sweats and a hoodie. His smile was radiant as he slowed his jog and stopped before me. Flo ran towards the newcomer immediately, wagging her tail and demanding to be petted. Jay crouched down and scratched behind her ears as she licked his face.
“Flo, stop it,” I said sternly, but Jay laughed and waved me off.
“It’s fine. I love dogs. I’ve got a Labrador much like this beauty here back home.”
Flo gave him her ball – the traitor – and he threw it for her to catch before turning towards me, his smile as happy as I’d ever seen it. His eyes travelled down my body, widening as they landed on my prosthetic. Biting his lip, he looked at me again. I expected to see shock, disgust or even pity in his eyes, but all I saw was surprise.
“How did you lose your leg?”
“Afghanistan.”
“You’re a soldier?”
“Used to be. Now I bake cookies.”
“Which one do you find more dangerous?” Jay asked, and I laughed. “Oh, you laugh, but I bet I can cause a bigger disaster in the kitchen than a land mine.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“I can cook,” he said with a shrug. “But baking... Trust me, I’m hopeless. It’s too scientific for me. Too many rules. I like to improvise.”
“I can teach you,” I said before I could stop myself. My mind instantly went to the gutter when I imagined Jay in my kitchen, his hands covered in flour, his cheeks flushed, his nose scrunched in concentration...
“I’d like that.”
The intensity darkening his blue eyes made me shiver. My gaze lowered to his mouth, his perfect, pink mouth, and the bastard licked his lips.
Flo barrelled into him, making him take a step back. Jay focused his attention on her then, petting her and talking to her as she bounced excitedly around him.
My phone rang in my pocket and I fished it out, seeing Shane’s name on the screen.
“Hey,” I said after sliding my thumb along the screen.
“Hey yourself.” Shane’s sleepy voice made me smile. Taking a few steps away from Flo and Jay, I waited for him to continue. “Just wanted to make sure you’re not bailing on us tonight.”
“I’m not, don’t worry.” I paused throwing a look over my shoulder at Jay who was trying to wrestle the ball out of Flo’s mouth. “I think I need this. You were right.”
Shane scoffed. “I’m always right, babe. You should know that by now.”
I smiled as we chatted a bit more and arranged to meet at Focus around ten before I ended the call.
“Boyfriend?” Jay asked, raising an eyebrow. He was holding the filthy ball with two long fingers and didn’t throw it until Flo barked at him.
“As far as I recall I gave you my number yesterday,” I said, putting the phone back in my pocket. “Why would I do that if I had a boyfriend?”
“Dunno,” Jay shrugged. “Lots of guys do it.”
“Well, I’m not one of those guys.”
Jay lowered his eyes, folding his arms in front of himself. I wished I could see his expression but the angle wasn’t right. He seemed upset and I couldn't figure out why.
“Listen,” I said, stepping closer to him. He looked up at me. “My friends are dragging me to this club – Focus – tonight, and you should come.”
He studied me silently for a moment, before he said, “Alright, sure. What time?”
“We’re meeting around ten, but my guess is we’ll stay for quite some time.”
“Can I bring anyone?”
Fuck, no.
“Of course.”
“Cool. I’ll see you later, then.”
As if on cue Flo appeared, dirty from the morning exercise. Jay petted her and threw the ball one last time before he waved and jogged away. I stared after him as he retreated, his body moving gracefully as he ran. Jay was leaner than me and a couple of inches shorter, but I was sure he was hiding a hot body under all those clothes.
I wondered if he had any tattoos. Or birthmarks. Did he have any hair on his chest or did he trim it? Was it dark blond?
I wondered what his skin would feel like as I touched him, and my fingers tingled.
I balled my hands into fists and forced myself to stop thinking about him.
It didn't work.
******
By the time I got to the club, everyone was already inside and seated in a large booth. I saw Shane sitting at the edge of the crescent-shaped sofa, holding a beer and looking absolutely gorgeous in a tight black t-shirt and equally tight skinny jeans. He’d invited some of the guys from the centre, plus one of the nurses – Meredith – and some people I didn’t know. There must have been at least ten of them all crammed in the booth.
“Well, well, well,” a voice I knew all too well drawled behind me. “Look who decided to show up.”
I turned around, already knowing who I was going to see, but it wasn’t any less surprising when I met my best friend’s eyes. Greg was staring back at me, a wide grin splitting his face in two.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I didn't wait for an answer before I pulled him in for a hug. His familiar scent enveloped me and I inhaled it, wanting to get as much of it as I could.
Greg had been my friend since we were kids. When I joined the military after I graduated, he joined the RAF. Much like mine, his job took him all around the world and we rarely saw each other face-to-face, but always kept in touch. He was the only person in my life, besides my mother, that I could trust unconditionally.
“I’m back,” he said, his arms closing around me, squeezing me hard.
“What? For good?” I pulled back a little to look at his face. His dark eyes were dancing with amusement, and he looked good, better than the last time I’d seen him, about six months ago.
“No. Not yet.” Any humour drained from his eyes and he looked away.
Greg was about a year older than me. His thirtieth birthday would be next year. I did a quick calculation in my head and realised his twelve-year contract with the RAF would come to an end shortly after that.
Over the past two years, every time I’d seen him he’d looked more and more detached from the real world, a hard shell slowly forming around his soul.
“Hey,” Greg said, lifting my chin with his finger and smoothing the line between my brows with his other hand. “We’ll talk about it. I promise. Just not tonight, okay?”
I nodded, the knot in my chest easing a little when Greg smiled again.
“Let’s go say hi to Shane. I’m sure he’d be happy to see me again.” He jerked his chin towards Shane who was looking at us as he tipped his beer bottle towards his mouth.
Greg had always had a thing for Shane. My guess was they’d have gotten together if Greg had stayed in town more than a week at a time.
“What makes you so sure?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, please. I’m irresistible.” He winked at me, grabbed my hand, and we made our way to the booth.
He really was irresistible to most people, men and women alike. Greg didn’t discriminate gender when it came to his sexual partners, and as far as I knew there were a lot of them. His muscular build, handsome features, and bad boy charm had proven to be a powerful attraction over the years.
It had never worked on me, though. I could appreciate how good-looking he was – I wasn’t blind – but when I looked at Greg I saw the scrawny kid who had helped me with maths, and the awkward teenager who had fought bullies with me, and the young man who had stood by me when my dad made my life hell.
I saw the man who joined the military with me, and even though we chose different career paths, it was still something I’d never forget.
“Hi, Shane,” Greg purred when we reached the booth. “Nice to see you again.” His gaze travelled down Shane’s body and up again until he met his eyes. “Thanks for inviting me tonight.” Greg threw an arm over Shane’s shoulders and pulled him closer.
Shane laughed and shook his head, dismissing Greg’s antics.
“You knew he was in town and didn’t tell me?” I turned to Shane.
“I found out yesterday,” Shane said, raising his hands defensively. “He came by the centre and made me promise not to tell you. He wanted to surprise you.”
I rolled my eyes and grunted before I turned to say hi to everyone else.
Alcohol flowed freely, the music was good, and I was having fun with some of my closest friends. And yet, I couldn't fully relax because it was approaching midnight and Jay still hadn’t showed up. I kept checking my phone for a text from him, but it remained silent.
“Let’s dance,” Shane whispered in my ear when I put my phone away for the hundredth time that evening. I was being pathetic and everyone knew it, even if they pretended not to notice.
Shane didn’t wait for me to decline his invitation. Placing my beer bottle on the table, he grabbed my hand and dragged me to the dance floor. His cheeks were flushed from the heat in the club, and his hair was kinda sweaty, but he looked happy. Green eyes shining, Shane wrapped his arms around my neck and we danced.
I let the music absorb my thoughts. Shane had been right – we hadn’t had fun in a long time, and once I relaxed, it felt nice. Shane was a great dancer, unlike me. I let him set the tempo and followed his lead as much as I could. The dance floor was crowded, so nobody could really see how bad I was.
Over Shane’s shoulder I saw Greg dancing with a cute, blond guy. As if feeling my eyes on him, Greg looked up and winked at me, circling his arms around blondie and whispering something in his ear. The guy responded by wrapping his arms around Greg’s neck and whispering something back.
I sighed, but couldn't help my smile. Greg was getting lucky tonight, as he always was when we went out, but I was probably going home alone. I wasn’t in the mood for a nameless hook-up anyway.
“You alright?” Shane asked, his warm breath tickling my ear.
“Yeah,” I replied, raising my hand to push his blond hair out of his face.
Shane smiled at me, a sad, understanding smile, and we continued to dance until I couldn’t feel anything but the bass thumping along with my heartbeat.
******
“Where’s the twink?” Shane asked Greg when we made our way back to the booth. I lifted my beer to my lips and nearly moaned as the cold liquid travelled down my throat.
“Dunno,” Greg said with a shrug.
Shane lifted an eyebrow. “Did he ditch you for someone hotter?”
“Do you see anyone hotter in this place?”
Shane laughed and started scanning the crowd, finger lifted to his lips thoughtfully.
They continued to bicker for a while, but I tuned them out when movement around the entrance caught my eye. A group of people walked in, two guys with two girls, and two other guys trailing behind them. My eyes narrowed when I realised one of these guys was Cedric the asshole, and the other was Jay. They were standing too close to each other for my liking, and when Cedric swung his arm over Jay’s shoulders I nearly lost it. He said something and the two couples in front of them turned and laughed. Jay smiled, but his eyes weren’t focused on his friends. His eyes were roaming over every person in the club until they landed on me and stayed there.
He was looking for me while fucking Cedric had his arm around him.
Without thinking, I jumped out of the booth and crossed the distance between us in a blur.
Jay beamed at me, extracting himself from Cedric’s embrace and taking a step towards me as I approached.
“Are you dating this guy?” I asked, leaning towards his ear but not touching him. He shook his head.
That was all I needed. I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the dance floor, unperturbed that I’d just come off as a major twat, not even saying ‘hello’ to his friends.
Jay didn't seem to mind, though. When we stopped in the middle of the dancing crowd and I turned to face him, he was still smiling, his blue eyes looking at me as if I held a thousand secrets he was dying to know.
“Glad you came,” I told him, finding an excuse to lean closer to him. His arm came to rest on my hip and he held me there, his fingers digging into my jeans as I tried to pull away.
“Me too. Sorry we’re a bit late. Cedric was being his usual lovely self and didn’t want to come at all.” His voice sent a shiver through my body, and I wrapped an arm around his waist. We were as close to each other as possible, moving slowly to the rhythm, and yet it didn’t seem enough.
“Why do you put up with his shit?”
Jay shrugged, his other hand coming to rest on my chest. “We live together.”
I jerked back as if he’d pushed me, suddenly feeling betrayed. I asked him if they were dating, didn’t I? What was this?
Jay laughed, shaking his head, and pulled me back closer to him, both his arms coming around my body.
“Not like that. I’m not even sure he’s gay,” he said, his lips brushing the skin under my ear. “We live off campus and share a house. It’s four of us, everyone’s got their own room and we split the rent.”
I nodded, too afraid that if I said anything, or moved, his lips would leave my skin. I felt him smile against my neck, and his hips started moving to the rhythm of the song. We didn’t talk much after that. I was more than happy to just feel him pressed against me, and Jay seemed content with that arrangement too.
“We’re heading out,” Cedric said to Jay the moment we came back to the booth. I couldn’t see Shane or Greg anywhere, but didn’t think they’d leave without telling me, so I took out my phone to check for texts.
Greg: Shane wants to get in my pants. Who am I to stop him? We’re outta here, mate.
Shane: I’m taking Greg’s drunk ass home. Talk to you tomorrow. Xx
Lifting my eyes from the phone screen I saw Cedric holding Jay’s upper arm and whispering something in his ear. Jay frowned, took a step back and pulled his arm free.
“I’m staying here. With Amir. You can do whatever the hell you want,” he said, glaring at Cedric. For a moment something vicious flashed in Cedric’s icy blue eyes but it was quickly gone and replaced by his usual bored expression.
“Suit yourself,” Cedric said, turning on his heel. The rest of Jay’s friends followed him, but stopped by Jay to say goodbye with promises to get together again soon.
“Give them ten minutes to leave and we can get out of here, too,” Jay said. “I mean, if you want we can stay, or go to another club...” He looked around nervously, probably wondering where my friends had gone.
“Nah, it’s fine. We can go. Take a little walk if it’s not too cold?”
“Sure.” Jay smiled cheekily as he sneaked an arm around me and pulled me closer. “One last dance?”
******
The last dance turned to five and it was nearly 2 AM by the time we left the club. Cambridge on a Saturday night was as busy as the market in the centre of town on a Sunday afternoon. The streets were well-lit and most of the student population was out partying, regardless of the cold.
Jay hunched further inside his jacket, thrusting his hands in his pockets.
“Damn, after the heat in the club it feels even more miserable than before.”
He was right, it was miserable. Cold and wet, a constant drizzle hung in the air like a transparent curtain. He was shivering, but he never mentioned cutting our walk short.
“How about a coffee?” I asked. Jay raised his eyes at me, surprised.
“I’d kill for a hot cup of coffee right now, but it’s 2 AM. I doubt anything is open, even here.”
A rowdy crowd of people passed by us, laughing loudly and trying to sing some kind of a song, but too drunk to hold a note.
“Lucky for you, I own a bakery.” I winked at Jay and draped an arm around his shoulders, unable to resist the pull to touch him anymore.
“You own Cookie’s?”
“Mhm.”
“Oh, wow, I didn't know that. I thought you worked there.”
“Well, yeah, I do work there. It’s just me and Chris right now. I’m trying to save on costs but I’ll have to hire someone at least part-time soon.”
Jay hummed in response, his teeth starting to chatter. I hurried my pace, pulling him closer. The bakery was just round the corner.
“Why the apostrophe?” Jay asked.
It took me a moment to realise what he was asking and when I did I smiled widely at him before replying.
“Most people think I can’t spell,” I said with a wink. “It was what they used to call me in the army. The first time I baked we were stationed in the outskirts of a small town for more than two weeks before we received any orders. With not much to do all day, I decided to bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies to pass the time.”
“I can imagine you had to do a second batch after that?” Jay bumped his shoulder to mine, lowering his head to hide his smile.
“And a third. And a fourth. We ran out of supplies.” I chuckled remembering the childish glee in my fellow soldiers’ eyes when I took the tray of cookies out of the oven. “Long story short, the Americans started calling me Cookie, and it stuck. I’m so used to the word now that as British as I am, I find it extremely weird to call a cookie a biscuit anymore. It just sounds wrong in my head.”
We reached the bakery’s back door and I took my keys out to unlock it. Once inside, Jay’s body immediately relaxed. The heating wasn’t on, but it was a big improvement from being outside.
“Smells divine,” Jay said as he shrugged his jacket off. He was wearing just a thin t-shirt underneath and his skin was prickled with goosebumps. I switched on the small heater we kept for emergencies. During the day when the ovens were working there was no need for a heater.
“I don’t actually have anything to eat, I’m afraid. Are you hungry?”
“No, that’s alright. I just love the smell of baking.” He pulled out one of the high stools we had tucked under the counter and sat on it. “A coffee is fine, thank you.”
I made two coffees, not too strong considering how late it was, and placed the steaming mugs on the counter. Pulling the other stool out, I took a seat next to Jay.
“So, how did you turn from soldier to baker?” He asked, wrapping his elegant fingers around the mug.
“I’ve always loved baking,” I said with a shrug. “My mum used to bake a lot when I was a child and it fascinated me. I loved the process of making a cake more than actually eating the cake.” I smiled, remembering how happy we all were when I was a kid. How much my mum used to smile. How good our house always smelled.
Jay didn’t interrupt my thoughts. His soft gaze studied me as he raised the mug to his lips.
“When I came back from Afghanistan I...” I swallowed past a lump in my throat.
I was broken. Defeated. A mess.
“I needed something to do. I had some money saved so I decided to go for what makes me happy, for a change.”
“That’s always the best option, I guess.” Jay lowered his eyes to the cup, but didn’t elaborate.
“Yeah. I don’t mind the long hours because I love my job and I’m my own boss.” Jay nodded, still not looking at me. I didn’t know what was it exactly that made him sad, but I wanted him to smile at me again. “So, what are you studying?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.
“Economics.”
I didn’t know why but that took me by surprise. “That sounds... interesting.”
“It’s really not.”
“Why did you go for it then?”
“My dad thinks that’s the best course to suit the family business. Will and Sophie – my older brother and sister – graduated with Master degrees in Business Management a couple of years ago, so Dad decided I should take a slightly different path and he’ll have all his bases covered.” Jay barely took a breath as he spoke, the words tumbling out of his mouth. He was studying his coffee cup intently, brows furrowed, as if it held the answers to all his troubles.
I sensed this was a sore subject for Jay and I didn't want to press him for more details. I barely knew him, how was I supposed to offer any legitimate advice if he asked? What was more, I hated the way his face fell when he spoke about his studies.
“What would you rather study then?” I asked, making Jay raise his eyes to meet mine. His full lips turned up into a wistful smile before he answered me.
“History of art.”
To me, his answer felt like the missing piece of a puzzle. It didn't surprise me and I had no idea why.
“You’re into art?”
“Yeah,” Jay lifted a shoulder casually, finally meeting my eyes. “I love art. All forms of it. I can draw and play a couple of instruments, and I love making things with my hands. It fascinates me how you can create something beautiful out of thin air. Like, a poet can write a love letter to a lover and make them cry, you know? Make them feel things.” He spoke with enthusiasm but there was still a trace of sadness in his voice. “Or a sculptor can take a rusty piece of metal or a misshapen rock and turn it into something amazing.”
I hummed encouragingly and Jay continued to speak, telling me about his love of Jackson Pollock and abstract art, and his devotion to the Brontë sisters and Jane Austen. I could listen to his voice all night.
We finished our coffees and Jay declined a refill, so we turned the lights and the heater off, and locked up. The drizzle had died down outside but it was still pretty cold especially after the cosy warmth of the shop.
“I should go,” Jay said, wrapping his arms around himself.
“I’ll walk you home.”
My leg was starting to feel uncomfortable in my prosthetic even after the rest we’d just had. But his house must be somewhere nearby – the University usually rented houses near the town centre for off-campus accommodation.
“No, it’s fine. Thank you, but you look tired and I don’t want to keep you...”
“You’re not keeping me.” I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and turned him towards the main street. “Where’s your house?”
Jay told me the address and as I’d guessed it was a ten minute walk from the bakery.
When we arrived, the house was dark and quiet. His roommates were either asleep or still out.
“I’m not a crazy stalker,” I said as Jay patted his pockets for his keys. “I promise I won’t turn up uninvited or throw pebbles at your window.”
“Good to know,” he told me with a smirk.
“But...” I hesitated. Jay looked at me expectantly. “Can I take you out? Just the two of us?”
Cold chills ran down my spine as I imagined Jay’s polite refusal. Why would he want to go out with me? He was perfect – beautiful and smart and talented. What would he see in me?
“On a date?”
“Yeah.”
Jay smiled and took the small distance between us. “I’d like that,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Night, Amir.”