“What question are you on now?”

Looking up from my science exam paper, I frown at Liam. “I’m pretty certain an invigilator doesn’t ask the person sitting exams questions as they’re doing them.”

His eyes flit away from the car magazine he’s reading, and when he catches my smile, he smiles back. In quick succession, he discards the magazine, throwing it haphazardly on the bed. The pages fly open, but then settle. “I’m bored,” he states matter-of-factly.

I can’t help the frustration in my voice when I answer, “And how do you think I feel? Trapped here every day, never seeing daylight? It’s been six months now, Liam.” I exhale, giving away how angry I feel.

“I’ve told you time and time again the reason why you can’t leave your room just yet. You’re still only fifteen. If they catch you they’ll take you away from me.” He rushes over, kneeling down in front of me before taking my hand. I see his own anger and frustration fade when he spots how sad I look. “When I was your age I was put into foster care and was abused by my so-called carers. I don’t want to see the same thing happen to you. I couldn’t bear it.” Kissing my hand, he takes a lock of hair and places it behind my ear with a gentle smile. “I promised myself when your mother passed that I would never let anything happen to you. I know I’m doing wrong, and I know I could get punished, but I swear that all of this,” he says, his eyes scanning the room, “is for your own protection.”

I see the sincerity in his eyes, and it makes my heart melt a little. Every night, I cry over my mother’s passing, and every day, I take it out on Liam. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you were abused?” I ask, a deep, worrying frown forming at my brow.

Looking down at his feet, he sighs before glancing back up again. “It’s not something you want to advertise.”

“Didn’t you tell the police what happened?”

He huffed, shaking his head in disgust. “And what do you think they would have done? I was an orphan—a troublesome kid—and the family I was staying with were church going pillars of the community. Who do you really think they would have believed?”

With my free hand, I place it over his. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Liam fixes me with his glassy eyes, and it’s only then that I see the first hint of vulnerability in them. I was so angry when I first got here. Angry at Liam and then at the world when I started to believe that what he said was true about my mum. Over these past months, I have started to accept my fate a little more—slowly, but surely. Now, after revealing what he has, I can’t help but feel a little appreciative of what he’s given me. Yes, I know I’m still a prisoner, but I would much rather have this than the life he had after becoming an orphan. At least Liam looks after me. I’m fed and given plenty of books to read. Just the other day, he bought me a brand new Kindle and loaded it with tons of books. He also promised to give me more if I asked. It’s only the first generation Kindle, but it’s enough to get through the boredom. I never thought I would say this, but I miss school. I miss learning and reading. That’s why I’ve asked Liam to teach me like I’m still at school. He’s bought me some GCSE books and downloaded and printed some exam papers, so I’m getting the benefit of some sort of education. I’m still learning, and that’s important to me. I was supposed to do my GCSE exams in a month’s time, but I guess doing them here will suffice for now, and at least I’m safe.

“Now can you understand why I keep you down here? No child should ever go through what I had to.”

My eyes start to flood with unshed tears. I nod my head. “Of course I do. I just wish I had more freedom around the house. Maybe even let out into the garden for some sunlight.”

He grips my hand tightly in his. “I promise you that I will give you all of that. Let’s just wait until you get nearer to your birthday. It’s not long now. I know just the present to get you as well. I promise you it’ll be the best sixteenth anyone has ever had.” His face lights up, making my own light up with it.

“Really?” I ask, feeling a flutter of excitement in my belly.

He nods. “Yes. Really.” Getting up, he points to my exam paper. “Now, let’s get this test over and done with, so we can mark it and get something to eat. I’m starving.”

I turn to face my desk more, laughing as I do. “Okay then. I only have six more questions, and I’ll be done.”

“Thank God for that,” he jibes, picking up the magazine and sitting back down on the bed.

I watch as he starts to flick through the pages again and smile before turning back and concentrating on the task at hand. Only six more questions to go.

A banging sound breaks me out of my trance. Shuddering at my memory, I frown when whatever that sound was comes to the forefront of my mind. I had been sitting in the library at school for the last two hours, trying to catch up on everything I’ve missed. I asked my teacher to throw everything at me, and it certainly is everything which she has thrown. Though I am a glutton for punishment, it has really helped to keep my mind from wandering to Easton, and that’s worth all the hard work in the world. I often find myself thinking about him when I’m alone. I don’t want to, but my mind wanders there anyway.

Hearing that sound again—a thumping sound if I’m not mistaken—my heart starts thundering against my chest. I start to think all sorts of unsavoury things, but mostly I’m wondering if it’s Liam. I wonder if he’s found me and is planning to take me away again and trap me in that bedroom he said was mine.

Shuddering at the thought, I quickly gather all of my paperwork as well as my science, English, and history books, and I roughly shove them into my backpack. I zip it up as quickly as I can. All the while, I have my eyes trained on the door like he will appear at any moment.

With my heart rate reaching new levels, I rise out of my seat and cringe as the sound of the chair’s legs scrape against the linoleum flooring. The high-pitched squeak across the floor has my heart hammering even faster. I hate that he has reduced me to this. I live in constant fear that one day he’ll find me—that each day will be the day he does. I used to love that man, but ever since I’ve been treated for brainwashing, I’ve come to live with this fear of him that sometimes cripples me. I don’t tell my mum as she would worry about me, but this is my life, and this will continue to be my life as long as he’s out there somewhere.

So, I run. I run as fast as my feet can carry me outside of the library and into the courtyard of the school. I’m gripping my bag in front of me like it is the only thing that can keep me safe. I look to the left, and then to the right, before sprinting down the end of the courtyard that leads to the exit of the school. I’m so frightened that I’m close to tears. I can either hear footsteps behind me, or the sound of it is in my head. Whatever it is, I don’t want to stick around long enough to know whether it’s just me going crazy.

As I run, I hear another sound. I turn, trying to find the source—to see if it’s him—when I collide into a solid body. I scream, dropping my bag at the floor. It’s him. Finally, he’s found me. This will be the day where my free life ends.

“Sasha, it’s me, Easton. Sasha, calm down, it’s me. Look at me.”

I feel a set of hands grip each arm, but at first I’m too paralysed with fear to realise that I’m safe.

“Sasha, please … you’re frightening me. What happened to you?”

His soothing voice makes me look up, and it’s only then that I realise that it’s really him. “He’s here,” I say, not making any sense.

Immediately, on alert, he looks up, his eyes are wide and darting around the courtyard. “Who’s here, Sasha, and where?”

“I– I–” I start stammering, not knowing what to say. As my heart rate starts to calm a little, I realise how stupid I’m being. I’ve never shown anyone how frightened I am before.

“Sasha, you’re okay. Talk to me,” he urges. His eyes focus on me, but also on the area around us.

“I feel stupid now, but I could have sworn someone was here. I guess it was nothing, but at the time, I—”

“Go to my office, and lock the door behind you. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll knock five times. Got it?”

“Easton, it’s okay. I’m sure it was nothing.”

I feel him grip my arms tighter. “Sasha, go to my office now, and don’t open the door until I get back.”

I see the determination in his eyes, so I nod my head. I feel him release his grip on my arms, and when I start walking, he watches me until I disappear into the hallway. I take a quick glance around me before running to his door. The hallway’s so quiet one could hear a pin drop. I doubt anyone is still here apart from me and Easton. Shit, I called him Easton instead of Mr Lockhart. If anyone had seen us, it would have looked suspicious.

Chastising myself, I make it into his office as quickly as possible and lock the door behind me as instructed. My heart’s still hammering against my chest, but it’s easing with every breath I take.

I take a seat, slowly trying to catch my breath, and by the time I hear the five knocks on the door along with Easton’s voice letting me know he’s the one knocking, I start to feel really stupid.

Opening the door, I find him looking into my eyes like he’s trying to gauge my feelings. “I’m okay,” I answer, knowing that that is what he’s looking for.

He steps in, closes the door, and hands me back my backpack, which I had totally forgotten all about. “That bag’s way too heavy,” he says in a chastising tone.

“I have a lot to catch up on.”

“Do you live far?”

I frown, wondering why he’s asking. “No. It’s only a twenty-minute walk.”

“I’ll walk you. I would take you on my bike, but I only have one helmet on me.”

For the first time in the last ten minutes, I feel the need to laugh. “It’s okay, Easton. I can walk myself.”

“Not with that much weight. Also, you looked like something scared the shit out of you back there.”

“You didn’t see anyone, did you? I knew I was going crazy.”

“Sasha,” he says, walking the distance towards me, “just because I couldn’t find anyone other than us here doesn’t mean you’re going crazy.”

Closing my eyes, I sigh. I suddenly feel exposed. “I’m sorry,” I answer, breathing out slowly.

“What have you got to feel sorry for, lass? You looked scared shitless back there.”

Looking up, I smirk. “My hero,” I say, chuckling. I notice the curve of his lips rise up in a breathtaking smile. “Do you dig the whole ‘damsel in distress’ thing, Mr Lockhart?”

Shaking his head, he moves away from me and sits down on the edge of his desk. “I dig a lot of things, Sasha, but seeing a damsel in distress isn’t one of them. I take no joy in seeing you look the way you did. I’ve never seen someone so scared.”

My smile soon fades. I hate that he’s seen me so open … so exposed to my fear. “It was nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

Feeling flustered, I say, “Can we drop it? Please?”

He visibly sighs, before answering. “Okay, but you can’t blame a man for worrying about you.”

Deciding to change the subject, I look down at his feet and smile. “No Nikes today.” I look back up from his black loafer, tie ups, and find him smiling back.

“Not when I’m working, no.”

“Only when you kiss girls in bars.” Immediately, I close my eyes. I got carried away and became lost in the moment. It doesn’t take much when I’m in his presence. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me.”

He starts chuckling. “No offence taken.” He looks at my bag and then back up at me. “Do you need to carry on with some work? You can do it across the desk from me. I won’t disturb you.”

I do need to do some more work, but there’s no way in Hell I would be able to sit across the desk of the most handsome man on earth and concentrate on work.

I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I’m finished for today. What about you?”

“I was only hanging around because you were still here. I can’t leave the premises if there are still students milling around.”

My mouth slightly parts. “You were only here because of me?” Now I feel guilty.

“Don’t give me that look, Sasha. There’s nothing to feel guilty about. I’m doing my job. Someone has to stay behind and it was me who volunteered today. I could have gone home, but I chose to stay. Besides, I’m still fairly new here—still very much trying to find my feet.”

I can’t help the smile that rises. “When you’re not wearing Nikes.”

Smiling, Easton crosses his arms in front of him. “You know, I’m starting to think you have some sort of foot fetish.”

I gasp, not hiding my shock. “Don’t be silly.” I feel my face flush with embarrassment. I don’t have a foot fetish. I have an Easton fetish. That’s the difference.

Laughter erupts in the room, but as soon as our eyes lock, the laughter stops. My heart starts to pick up, but for different reasons this time. His eyes are the most hypnotic eyes I have ever seen. I could seriously get lost staring into those deep brown eyes of his.

I don’t know if I’m imagining things, but Easton doesn’t turn away. It’s like some unseen force is locking us together. I can’t look away, and it seems he can’t either.

Does he feel it? Or am I just imagining things? Maybe this crush of mine is playing tricks with my head. He and I both know that from the moment we both walked into this school that first morning that we were both strictly off limits.

It’s the clearing of his throat and his eyes averting mine that breaks the spell. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

Yes. It’s probably best that I do. Being in the same room is not only doing crazy shit to my heart and my stomach. It’s also doing crazy shit to my libido. I honestly didn’t realise I had one until Easton walked into my life.

“What are you thinking about?” Easton asks, hoisting my bag over his shoulder as we take the walk towards my house.

I smile because I know I can’t tell him the wicked thoughts I have over him. It’ll make me look like a silly school girl with a crush. I know that’s what I am, but I do have some dignity.

“How’s your family back in Scotland? Have you seen any of them since being here?”

“Hmm,” he answers, scrutinising me. “That’s not what you were thinking about at all, but okay. I haven’t seen any of my family. Well, apart from my twin brother. He likes to turn up unannounced at times. What a pain in the arse.”

“You have a twin?” I ask, surprised.

“I told you I was one of five brothers.”

“Yes, but you never told me one of them was your twin. Do you look the same?” If there’s two of him roaming the earth, then I’m done for.

“We look the same, but we don’t share the same personality.”

“In what way?” I ask, feeling curious.

I watch him think on an answer before responding. “He’s … how do you say? Into the ladies.”

I smirk. “And you’re not?” He fixes me with a look that makes me laugh.

“I am into ladies, but not as much as my brother. He’ll sleep with anything with a pulse.”

I smirk. “And you don’t, I suppose? Are you just picky?” I start laughing when I see his expression.

“I don’t think I like your tone, young lady.”

My God, that accent does things to my insides. If that wasn’t bad enough, he then smiles. My face immediately heats in response.

“I’m only teasing,” I offer, trying to get my breathing under control.

“I know,” he answers, smirking. “I love ladies, but I’m not the kind of person to sleep with just anyone. I have to have a connection with them first at least. Take them out on a couple of dates beforehand, maybe.”

As we walk, I briefly look at him, and remember that first night we met when he wanted to take me back to his place. As if sensing why I’m looking, he says, “You were the exception, of course.” He clears his throat, looking away. Is he embarrassed?

“You don’t have to get embarrassed about telling me. I remember I let something slip to you only the other day.” I bite my lip remembering that afternoon outside of the pub. I often wondered if admitting I was jealous was the right thing to do, but in the end, I thought that if nothing could ever come of us, there was no reason to be dishonest. “It’s actually rather refreshing to be honest, don’t you think? We can’t go beyond the student/teacher relationship, so why not? At least there’s no game playing. There’s some books I’ve read—and I’ve read a lot of them—and whenever there’s a romance involved they’re always playing games with each other. I often wondered why people even bothered to date if it’s that complicated.” I look across at Easton and notice his amused expression. “Sorry. Am I waffling?”

He shakes his head. “No, not at all. I was just thinking how hard it is to see you as an eighteen-year-old girl. You seem so mature for your age.”

I think about all the times I used to have a teenage hissy fit with Liam and it makes me laugh. “Oh, I’m not sure about that, but I’m learning. Every day I’m learning.”

“And every day you will continue to learn. No one is an expert. I think about all the books I’ve read, and places I’ve explored, but there are still so many more books to read and places to explore.”

Wanting to know more, I ask, “What places have you explored?”

His eyes flit towards me with a smile. “On my twenty-first birthday, I climbed Kilimanjaro—”

“Wow,” I say, interrupting him a moment.

“Don’t say wow yet. You don’t know what’s coming.” He has a slight twinkle in his eyes as he says it.

“What?” I playfully nudge him to say more.

“The whole time, I had the skitters. To make matters worse, on the fourth day, my big toenail on my right foot turned black, and the entire toenail just fell off. To this day, it has never grown back.”

My eyes widen. “God, that sounds awful! Is your toe okay?”

He nods with a devilish smile. “Yes, it’s fine now. Sometimes, it gets a bit stiff, but at least I didn’t lose it.”

“Do you regret doing it?”

He shakes his head. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”

“That’s good,” I answer on a sigh. “One more question, though.”

“What?” he asks, turning his head towards me with his right eyebrow raised.

“What are the skitters?”

Throwing his head back, he howls with laughter. I watch—utterly transfixed by his innate beauty. His laughter is the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

“Have I said something funny?” He’s still laughing as I watch with a huge grin on my face.

“Not at all,” he finally answers between laughs. “It’s just that I sometimes forget my audience. ‘Skitters’ is the Scottish term for diarrhoea.”

“I kind of thought it was something like that, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself by just assuming.”

“Believe me when I say that there is nothing more embarrassing than having the skitters at fifteen thousand feet in front of a bunch of people you’ve never met before.”

I chuckle. “Oh, I bet.” After a second I ask, “Where else have you explored?” He fixes me with that look again. “What?”

“You do really ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

I shrug, and before I can even stop myself, I say, “I guess only having one person to talk to for years does—” I stop myself mid-sentence. I certainly didn’t mean to say that. Normally, I’m so cautious when it comes to that life. I was a different person back then, and I don’t care to revisit that time or who I was during it.

Closing my eyes, I open them to find Easton looking at me expectantly. I can tell he’s a little shocked, but also intrigued. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” My body stiffens at the unwanted memories.

“Oh no, young lass, you’re not going to do that to me.”

Perplexed, I turn to gaze at him questioningly. “Do what?”

“Clamp down on me like that.” I see the determination in his face when he says, “Come on. Tell me. What’s your favourite book?”

I shake my head, completely dumbfounded. “What?” I ask with a chuckle.

“You ask me lots of questions. It’s only fair that I get to do the same. Come on. What’s your favourite book?”

Smirking at him, I say, “Watchers.”

“The same book I was reading the night you met me?”

I nod. “The very same one.”

“Okay. Favourite food?”

I can’t help smiling at his earnest face. He really is trying here.

And I can’t help but fall that little bit more for Mr Lockhart.

“Does chips dipped in strawberry milkshake count?” Easton pulls a disgusted face making me laugh.

“You do what?”

“Dip chips in strawberry milkshake. Have you never tried it?”

“Ugh, no. And why would I ever put myself through that?”

“Well, if you don’t know what it tastes like then how can you mock it?”

He stays silent for a moment before turning to face me. “That is true. I’ll give you that.”

“Whenever you’re in, give it a try. I guarantee you’ll never look back.”

His face is unsure as he stares back. “I’m not sure about that, but I promise you I’ll try.”

“So, what’s your favourite book?”

He thinks on it for a moment. “It’s hard to pinpoint a particular book, but I can pinpoint a particular author. James Patterson.”

I’m surprised, but mostly because I remember reading every single one of his books when I was in captivity. “You like your action packed, police thrillers, huh?”

“There are many of them.”

“There definitely is. He’s a prolific writer. I seriously don’t know how he does it.”

“Ah, you can do just about anything if you set your mind to it.”

“Did you always know you wanted to be a teacher?” I can guess by the look on his face that he wasn’t expecting that question. He certainly has to think a little while before an answer is forthcoming.

“I guess I did. It was either teaching, or being an artist, and I know which one will definitely work out.”

My reprimanding look doesn’t go unnoticed. “If you were given the choice, what would you rather do?”

“It’s not so much about what I’d rather do; it’s more about what is realistic.”

“So, you’re saying that there are no artists out there?”

“I’m saying that there are a lot more failed artists out there than successful ones.”

My lips thin as I gaze back at him. “That’s doesn’t answer my question.”

He starts laughing. “You drive a hard bargain.”

I nod my head and smile. “I also said—in so many words—that honesty was the best policy. If not for my sake, be honest with yourself. If you had the chance, which one would you choose?”

I already know the answer, but I can tell he’s not keen to utter the words out loud. It’s almost as if by saying them, he’ll be revealing his vulnerability.

“I would be an artist. To be very honest, it’s been a dream of mine to own a gallery back in Edinburgh one day.”

When I smile brightly back at Easton, he cocks his head, obviously intrigued. “I’m going to repeat something a very wise man said to me once.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks. I can tell he’s hanging on to my every word. “Yes. He once said that you could do just about anything if you set your mind to it.”

Smirking, he answers, “Touché.”

Looking up to the flat where I live, I place my hands in my coat pockets. It’s suddenly gotten very cold now that I know the warmth of Easton will be gone once I walk upstairs. “This is me.”

He looks up a moment before glancing back down at me. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He then hands me my rucksack and turns to leave. The thought of him going brings a slight fluttering feeling to my stomach. I want to hold onto this moment a little longer. I know I can’t pursue him in that way, but I also can’t help the words that come flying out of my mouth.

“Unless you’d like to come in for a quick cup of tea? It’s cold out, and it’s the least I can offer you for walking me home.”

I close my eyes as he starts to turn back. I’m stupid. I know I’m being stupid. He’s going to rebuff me and I’m going to look like a silly school girl with a crush. When I open my eyes again, Easton’s standing before me, and his eyes are searching mine. “Sorry. I know I keep saying that, but I am. I know I shouldn’t be inviting you—”

“A cup of tea would be lovely,” he says, smiling as he walks past me towards the entrance of the block of flats. Not knowing what to do at first, I stand there staring like an idiot. It’s only when he turns at the front door and says, “So are you going to let me in?” that I start moving.

“Oh,” I say, a little out of sorts as I fumble with my keys. I can feel him watching me as I place the key in the lock and let us in. Instead of it making me feel awkward, all I feel is heat. Pure, red-blooded, intoxicating heat. I know this is a very bad idea, but my body is doing all the talking right now.

And my body wants Easton.

Shaking my head of my errant thoughts, I take the stairs to the second floor. We have a lift, but I often use the stairs. It’s only a couple of flights, after all.

Once inside, Easton takes in the surroundings, no doubt noticing how snug the place is. There’s only my mother and I, so it’s more than adequate enough for just the two of us.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll be just a minute.” Easton nods his head as I make my way through the hallway and into my room. I feel conscious now I’m home, and especially so with my uniform on. It’s stupid as I know nothing can happen between us, but I feel it’s somehow wrong of me to be wearing it in front of him. Like we’re doing something considered taboo.

As quick as a flash, I strip out of my uniform and change into a snug pair of jeans and an I heart New York t-shirt. I walk through finding Easton sat at the dining table still looking around the place. As if sensing I’m there, his eyes flit to me, and I notice the slight perusal he makes of my attire.

“You love New York, huh?” he asks, with a sexy grin.

“I’ve never been, but would love to go. It’s on my bucket list.”

I sit down next to him as he says, “What else is on there?”

My eyes move from his as embarrassment reddens my cheeks. He nudges me. “Come on. You can tell me. I can keep a secret.”

Looking back, I see the eagerness in his eyes to learn more. Why he’s so interested in me, I have no idea. He should be out with women his own age rather than sitting with this eighteen-year-old that’s hardly had a chance to live life.

Something in him calls to me, though. It’s like he makes me feel that it’s okay to think and feel what I do—that I should never feel ashamed or embarrassed of anything. It’s hardly any wonder that he’s managed to climb the ranks so quickly.

“I want to explore New York, kiss on top of the Empire State Building, honeymoon in Mauritius and go snorkelling with my husband in the crystal clear waters. I want to drink champagne on the London Eye, swim with dolphins in Mexico, Eat Paella in Spain, run through a field of sunflowers in Tuscany, go parasailing in Florida, walk along the Great Wall of China, feed koala bears in Australia, and most of all, I want to do it all with the man I love.”

I take a deep breath and it’s only when I see the expression of Easton’s face that I clear my throat, my cheeks reddening again with embarrassment. “You’re probably wondering why you asked,” I say, chuckling a little. When he doesn’t answer at first, I look back at him and he’s wearing that same expression. It’s hard to tell what it is he’s feeling. Is it shock? Bewilderment?

Suddenly, as if realising he should talk, Easton clears his throat. “You’re a romantic at heart.” He fixes me with his eyes, and I almost melt under the intensity of stare. He’s utterly hypnotic.

In an attempt at feeling less affected by him, I shrug my shoulders. “I guess I’ve had a long time to think about it. I just want to feel free more than anything else. Freedom is a great feeling. As long as I have that, I’m okay.”

Easton smiles. It’s a knowing smile. He doesn’t have to say anything to me to know he understands where I’m coming from. Three years of near constant captivity does that to you.

Realising my manners, I get up from my seat. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t even asked you. Do you take sugar in your tea?”

Easton’s crooked smile makes my stomach flip. “No, thank you. I’m sweet enough as it is,” he jokes.

“You’re telling me,” I mutter under my breath.

“What was that?” he calls from the living room as I disappear into the kitchen.

“I said I’d be as quick as I could be,” I shout back, shaking my head. I never in a millions years imagined I would be stood here making Easton a cup of tea.

As the kettle boils, I make quick check of the time. It’s almost five, which means my mum will be back in an hour. I’m thinking Easton won’t want to meet my mum. It could get complicated rather quickly. I’m sure once he has his tea he’ll be off. He must have better things to do anyway.

As the tea’s stewing, I grab some Custard Creams, Bourban’s, and Rich Tea biscuits, displaying them as best I can on a plate. I grab a tray, placing everything on it before making my way out to Easton. He’s still in the same spot, eagerly waiting on his cup of tea.

“Here it is,” I say, quickly placing everything down on the table. I’m scared I’ll drop everything if I hold onto it any longer. Just being in the same room with this man does things to me it shouldn’t.

“Thank you,” he answers, grabbing a Custard Cream and dunking it into his tea.

“Ah, you’re a dunker, I see.”

“A what now?” he asks with the last remnants of his biscuit.

I giggle. “You’re a dunker,” I explain, pointing towards his cup of tea. “You like to dunk your biscuits.”

“Oh, yes,” he answers with his deep, roguish, Scottish accent.

Oh my!

“Do you dunk?”

My eyes widen. “Do I what?” I ask, thinking he said something else.

He laughs, like he’s just realised why I’m shocked. “Do you dunk your biscuits?”

“Oh,” I answer, chuckling with embarrassment. Maybe I heard what I thought I did because it’s subconsciously what I want to hear. “Yes. I dunk too.”

“Especially chips in strawberry milkshake.”

“Definitely chips in strawberry milkshake,” I reply with a nod.

He shakes his head like he still can’t believe I do that. “What?” I ask, trying to look offended. “Like you never have any strange quirks. I bet you eat haggis.” I shiver at the thought.

“Have you ever tried haggis?” His eyebrow quirks in amusement.

“No, actually.”

“Never knock something unless you’ve tried it.”

Knowing I practically said the same thing to him about my chips and strawberry milkshake fetish, I answer, “Touché.”

He smiles at that. It’s a full-blown, beaming, melt-your-heart smile. In the brief silence, my heart rate kicks up a notch. The way he looks at me… My goodness, it’s no wonder all the women—young and old—in my school are lusting after him.

“If you could have any super power, what would it be?” Totally out of the left field, but it was the quickest thing I could think to ask to get rid of this tension I feel between us. It’s probably just me and this stupid school girl crush I have on him, but I think I feel something more between us.

At first it looks as though Easton’s taken aback by my question. It was completely thrown in there. But like a super trooper, he looks away, a little crinkle forming on his forehead as he’s deep in thought.

“I think I would like to be invisible. You could play lots of tricks on people and get lots of enjoyment out of it.”

I imagine for a moment what that would be like and giggle in thought. You certainly could have fun. Simply hiding objects that were once there, or moving things in the air and scaring the shit out of people. It would be hilarious.

“What about you?”

Snapping from my thoughts, I say, “I would like to teleport. Can you imagine the places you could visit without having to pay for plane fares?”

He smiles knowingly. “Like Mauritius of New York.”

I nod my head. “Exactly.”

“You wouldn’t want to read people’s minds, for instance?”

I vehemently shake my head, although—thinking about it—I would love to know what Easton was thinking right about now. “No way. Can you imagine if you could? You’d have no friends and the world would be a very lonely place.”

Easton sips his tea, and then says, “I highly doubt that. I’m sure no-one would say anything bad about you.”

There he goes again. And this time, I can’t seem to look away when he locks those intense eyes on mine.

“It’s lovely,” he suddenly says.

“What?”

He holds his mug up. “The tea.”

“Oh.” I chuckle at myself. “Thanks.”

Talking with Easton has become my new favourite past-time. In fact, I’m so engrossed in our conversation, that I completely forget the time until I hear a noise outside and realise it’s my mum back from work.

“Oh shit.” My heart rate picks up. I’m so nervous and frankly worried for Easton.

“What’s the matter?” Easton asks, looking towards the door.

“It’s my mum. She’s home from work. Now she’s going to see you here and ask you loads of questions. Sorry.”