As the days passed by, Tudor was turning out to be a close friend, something I learned he didn’t have too many of, and I was happy with our new friendship. I was still not immune to him by any means, and when he flashed the dimples or when he first walked into a room, I admit I drooled a little and had to fight to keep my composure. But he was completely stunning and my body couldn’t deny that, as much as I wished it could.

Chapter 13

Blurred boundaries

Time passed quickly in our new life and it was soon November. The school show was just over one week away. It was snowing non-stop and I had on more layers than a Pass the Parcel present. Work was crazy–busy, the show taking up all my free time during the week, and weekends were filled with activities with my new bud, Tudor.

Saturday morning came, and my slumber was interrupted by Simple Minds’ ‘Don’t You Forget About Me’ coming from my phone – the personal ringtone I had assigned to Tudor.

“Piss off, Hollywood!” I answered as politely as I could at seven-thirty in the morning on my day off.

“No can do, you lazy grouch. Get up, Tash, I’m coming for you in half an hour, and its minus-fifteen and snowing, so dress warm.”

“Ugh, what are you doing to me? Where the hell are we going at this time?” I asked, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

“It’s a surprise. Chop, chop,” he ordered cheerily. Well, as cheery-sounding as someone can be when they have a moody, brooding, and gravelly voice.

After a hot shower, I dressed in my pink snow suit, applied my truck-load of make-up, combed through my hair, leaving it down, and made my way to the kitchen to grab a slice of toast.

As I turned the corner I stopped dead at the sight of Tate buck-naked apart from a small towel wrapped tightly around his waist; actually it looked more like a face flannel.

“Well hello, Mr. Muscle,” I quipped in my best seductive voice.

Tate whipped around to my direction, obviously embarrassed and clinging to his miniscule loin cloth with all the strength that he had.

“So, did you finally give up the goods and stay the night?” I asked light-heartedly.

“Erm, yeah, is that okay?” Bless, he was so embarrassed.

“Ha! Totally, chuck. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before now. Tink is not normally so… restrained.”

“Wil! Stop grilling my lover,” trilled my sex-happy fairy, appearing at his bedroom door. He turned to ‘Pookie’, “You find the whipped cream okay?”

Tate held up the can and ran back into the bedroom without looking back at me. I laughed and gestured a thumbs up to Tink, who in turn pursed his lips and used his hands to create a distance of about ten inches, winked and walked backwards into the bedroom, firmly shutting the door.

Lucky bastard!

I quickly gobbled down my breakfast, and just as I was putting my plate into the dishwasher the doorbell went.

I opened the door, and there was Tudor in a black North Face jacket, black beanie hat and dark jeans, holding up white ice-skates with leopard-print laces in one hand and coffee in the other,

“For you,” he said proudly, passing me the skates.

“Arghhhh! Are you serious?” I screamed, way beyond excited.

He laughed. “Yep, I can’t quite pull off animal print. Thought I would take you skating – you know, the kind that is appropriate for arctic conditions.”

“Har-bloody-har! But, one slight problem. I can’t ice skate,” I admitted.

His face contorted in shock.

Yes, yes, it possible that I can’t skate. Bloody Canadians! Not everyone lives on frozen water.

“Then that we shall remedy!” he replied in a terrible William Wallace accent. Our attention was suddenly caught by a loud ecstatic groan coming from Tink’s room.

I quickly looked to Tudor and winced. “I say we go, unless you want to listen to the explicit soundtrack that accompanies Tink in the throes of passion?”

He shuddered dramatically. “Let’s go.”

It was at that moment Tinks bedroom door flew open. We stood gaping at the buck-naked fairy standing, without shame, in his doorway.

“Tink? What’s up?” I asked, and realised that it was very evident exactly what was up.

“I thought I heard the door.” He peered around my shoulder. “Hey, Tudor.”

Tudor tipped his chin in greeting.

“Well, Tink, we are off out. I’ll catch you later.” I announced trying leave as quickly as possible to escape the more-than-awkward situation.

“Okay, porkie.” he sang as he turned towards his bedroom on a wave.