Akash

––––––––

AS THE WEATHER TURNED colder, the newly reopened bakery glittered brightly with an overabundance of holiday cheer. Shanti insisted on decking the halls, so to speak. She’d brought Nye over on the previous Friday evening, and they’d covered his shop in lights, Santa, and all things Christmas.

It made her happy. Akash decided not to waste his energy arguing with her. He hadn’t won a debate with his baby sister from the time she learned how to talk.

The second week of December brought brilliant news in the form of several new employees. They’d come over from the bakery course at one of the local universities. One covered an early morning shift to help Akash open, and the others closed the day with him.

Each month, the university would send over three new victims for a bit of on-the-job experience. Akash intended to find a suitable candidate from within the multitude of student bakers to bring on full-time—an apprentice of sorts to train up to allow him more free time. He planned to keep his eyes open for the possibility, at least.

With a steady flow of helpers, Akash hoped to create a better schedule for himself to avoid burning out. Padma had always driven herself to the brink of exhaustion for her career. He wanted to leave space in his life to enjoy the fruits of his labour.

How can I have time to build a life with Hamish if I’m buried in flour twenty-four hours a day?

Over the three weeks since their evening at the club, the two men had discovered a comfortable routine. They ran together at a park at five in the morning, had breakfast, spent the day apart at work, and shared a late supper afterwards. They usually alternated whose flat they slept at so Ganesh wasn’t abandoned.

The two had spent a portion of each day together. Time was short. Hamish had a flight out at the end of the week, and making the most of what was left seemed important. Every evening became a date night, even if at times they were too tired to do more than collapse on the couch and watch the telly together.

And then there was the sex. They’d christened every surface in both of their flats. Hamish’s office served as a thrilling addition to their adventures; so had his Mercedes, though it had been slightly uncomfortable.

As the date of Hamish’s flight grew closer, Akash grew increasingly more worried. He obsessively watched the news. The situation appeared direr than it had only a month ago.

He’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. He’ll definitely be completely and totally fine.

I hope.

“Mr Robinson?”

“Akash. Call me Akash. I’m not old enough to be a mister,” he corrected his new employee, with a kind smile. “How can I help?”

“He’s back again.”

Shit.

“I’ll handle it.” Akash dusted his hands off on his apron and made his way quickly out front. He rubbed his forehead with a sigh of exhaustion when he spotted the familiar figure perusing the various pasties on display. “Did you have a sudden craving for scones, Scottie?”

“Come have a coffee with me?” Scottie asked hopefully. He sounded far less demanding than he had previously, but Akash couldn’t help a grunt of annoyance. “Just a coffee, that’s all.”

Deciding not to risk a fight in his shop, Akash herded the overgrown idiot through the back and out into the alley behind the bakery. His patience hovered dangerously close to the end of its tether. Coffee definitely wasn’t on the menu for the two of them.

Akash closed the door behind them and leaned against it with his arms crossed over his chest. “Scottie. I don’t know if you’ve concussed yourself one too many times, if you’re hard of hearing, or if you truly can’t be bothered to listen to what someone tells you. So, I’ll say it one last time. I’ve no interest in sharing coffee, air, or a bed with you.”

Scottie opened his mouth, only to immediately snap it shut. His face slowly flushed red. “Why the fuck not?”

Akash resisted the urge to throw his arms up in pure frustration. “Does the reason matter when the answer remains the same? I’m not sodding interested.”

For all his bluster, Scottie seemed genuinely astounded by his response. Akash waited to see if he had anything else to say. He didn’t.

He just stood and frowned.

“Well?” Akash didn’t know what Scottie expected from him. “Why not find someone who is interested in you? Also, maybe don’t be a total arsehole to them while you’re trying to ask them out. You’ll also want to remember no means no. And perhaps less of the scowling?”

Awkward silence followed for an agonizingly long minute. It felt like an hour. What the hell is he standing there for? Go away, you massive twat. Akash waited a little more before finally snapping his fingers in front of Scottie to break him out of his daze.

“What?”

“Go home, Scottie. Go home and leave me the hell alone.” Akash dragged his fingers roughly through his hair. “I’m not certain what it is you’re so desperate to find, but it’s not me.”

“I—”

Akash slammed the palm of his hand against the door to cut him off. “So help me, Scottie. I’m not warning you off again. Maybe we can be friends at some point, but right now I’m more likely to kick your arse than shake your hand. Fuck off with yourself.”

Returning to the bakery, Akash sent a text to both BC and Taine. They’d take Scottie in hand. If they didn’t, he’d follow through on his promise to demonstrate all he’d learned in aikido and Krav Maga.

Daft twit.

BC: Oi. Why do I have to deal with Scottie? It’s not my turn.

Akash: He’s your friend. Your problem. Stop whining, I’m not Graham, I don’t have to put up with it.

BC: Bastard.

Akash: Just sort him out. There’s a decent bloke somewhere underneath all the shit.

BC: Yeah, yeah. You owe me pasties.

Akash: For what?

BC: Being fabulous.

Akash: Go annoy Graham.