by L.H. Cosway
The store clerk smiled widely when he saw me.
“Hello again. How can I help you?”
“I’d like to order a couch,” I said, then paused. “Sorry, I forgot to check the name.”
“No worries,” Masoud replied. “Is it the one James Khan is sitting on over there?”
I looked across the store and sure enough, James was still sitting on the couch. His eyes met mine and I flushed. Butterflies swarmed my stomach, mainly because we’d spent the last two hours trying out couches, sitting side by side, accidentally touching more times than I could count.
“Um, yes, that’s it,” I said, bring my attention back to the store clerk.
“Great, I’ll pull up an order form,” he replied. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw him come in. I’m such a huge Running on Air fan.”
“It’s an amazing show,” I agreed.
“How do you know each other?”
“I’m his PA.”
“Cool job,” Masoud said, impressed. “I’d give anything to work with those guys. It’d definitely beat selling sofas.”
“I don’t know. I bet you get to take naps on the ones out in the storeroom during your breaks.”
“Well, there is that,” he chuckled.
I quietly took the order form and filled out James’ details. I knew them by heart after spending the last few weeks organising his house renovations. In fact, I’d done such a good job that the house would be finished before long and it’d be time for me to move out.
The thought made my stomach drop. I wasn’t ready to leave yet. I blew out a long, despondent breath as I slid the form back to Masoud. He looked like he wanted to say something as he typed the information into his computer. Then finally, he blurted, “I hope this isn’t weird to ask, but could I get your number?”
I blinked, taken off guard by the question. “Um…why?”
His expression turned shy. “I think you’re cute. I wanted to ask you out.”
“Oh,” I breathed, eyes widening. Masoud was definitely attractive, but he’d seemed so starstruck by James that I hadn’t thought he might be interested in me. Should I give him my number? The part of me that was still besotted with James screamed no. I wanted to fight against it, but I just wasn’t there yet. I scratched awkwardly at my neck. “Actually, um…”
Masoud’s eyes dimmed. “You have a boyfriend. Sorry. Forget I said anything.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I didn’t in fact have a boyfriend, but then I caught a glimpse of James still sitting on the couch and the words died away. It would be unfair to give Masoud false hope when I was still hung up on someone else. So, I gave a barely-there nod and allowed him to believe his false assumption.
“Everything okay?” James asked, his eyes wandering over me when I returned to him.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” I answered, swallowing tightly. The fact that a perfectly attractive and nice young man had just shown interest in me and I’d shut him down because of James had me feeling all mixed up inside.
“Are you sure?” he prodded as he stood and we headed in the direction of the exit.
My cheeks heated as I walked alongside him. “Masoud asked for my number.”
James’ eyebrows jumped and he seemed to stiffen. “Oh.” A pause as he glanced away then back. “Did you give it to him?”
I shook my head.
James studied me now, some of his stiffness thawing. What was that about?
“Why not?” he asked.
I stared at the ground as we approached his car. “I’m not attracted to him.”
There was something in his expression that told me my answer pleased him, but I told myself I was imagining things. A small smile touched his lips as he considered me. “You’re not into blokes with beards, then?”
My stomach flipped at his mild teasing. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. Maybe.”
He arched an eyebrow and my attention went to his jaw that was shadowed by a hint of stubble. James was typically clean-shaven, but I liked him with a bit of stubble, too. I tried to imagine what he’d look like with a beard but couldn’t picture it.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” he questioned.
“I was just imagining how you’d look with a beard,” I blurted honestly. I wished I could take it back when I saw the mirth in his eyes.
His hand came up to rub his jaw. “You think you’d like beards if I grew one?”
“Have you ever tried to grow one?” I asked back, avoiding answering his question.
“Nah, but maybe I will,” he said with a grin. “It could be a new look for me.”
I smiled, about to walk across to the car when a black hatchback came barrelling around the corner. James grabbed my hand, yanking me out of the way and I fell into him. I glanced up, breathless. He gazed down at me, breathing heavily, his eyelids lowered. His skin was warm on mine and for a second, my attention went to his mouth. I quickly averted my gaze, but not before I saw his eyes darken. What was that?
“Thanks,” I said, straightening, my voice a little shaky. “That car came out of nowhere.”
“Some people think they can just drive like lunatics,” James ground out, looking over my head, but the car was long gone. A moment of quiet fell and my chest felt too warm. If James hadn’t pulled me out of the way, I would’ve been run over. I was about to thank him again when his phone rang. He dropped my hand and turned away to answer it.
“Hey, Shan,” he said, then paused. “Sure, I can drop over now. I’ll be there in about half an hour.” His eyes came to me. “Is it okay if I bring a friend?” Another pause. “Okay, see you in a bit.”
He hung up and turned his attention back to me. “How do you feel about coming for dinner at my dad’s house?”
Nerves fluttered inside me at the invite. “Sure, I can come.”
“Good,” James nodded. “Come on. We should go now in case there’s traffic.”
We climbed into his car, both of us quiet for a few minutes before James told me quietly, “This is our first Sunday dinner since Mum passed away.” I studied his profile while his attention remained fixed on the road.
“Oh,” I said, taken aback. “Are you sure you want me to come? Honestly, it’s fine if you’d prefer to just drop me off at the house. I don’t want to get in the way.”
“No, I’ll actually feel better with you there,” he confessed. “Things have been tense. We’re all feeling guilty that none of us realised Mum was sick until it was too late. It’s fucking awful, to be honest.”
“You can’t predict things, James. They just happen,” I said gently.
Whenever James used to talk about his mum, he’d always spoken with such warmth and love. She was a big part of his life. Now that she was gone, it was obviously going to take him time to figure out how to navigate the loss.
“I know that, but it’s still hard to accept it,” he said, his expression sombre.
When we reached his dad’s house, he cut the engine and silence filled the car. Then he inhaled a deep breath, perhaps for courage. I sensed James drew strength from my presence, but he didn’t need me to fill the quiet with lots of talk. Sometimes silent support was better.
His sister Shanise answered the door and welcomed us in. She gave James a long hug before turning her attention to me. “Michaela, right?”
I nodded. “Hi. Thanks for having me.”
We’d met briefly the night their mother died, so obviously we hadn’t exchanged much more than names. “You’re welcome anytime,” she replied, her smile kind but tired. “My brother tells me you’ve been a godsend to him lately. The least we can do is feed you after all you’ve done for him.”
“It’s nothing,” I said as she led us into the dining room.
James’ dad sat at the head of the table. Like Shanise, he also looked tired. I guessed they hadn’t been getting a whole lot of sleep. I met his brother, John, and his other sister, Gabrielle. They were all in their early to mid-
twenties, with James being the eldest. I could see how they looked to him for guidance, even though I’d only been sitting with them a short while.
“So, what’s it like working for our brother?” Gabrielle asked once the food was served, a delicious, spicy chicken with mashed potatoes and green beans. I noticed that I was the only one at the table who was eating and not just picking at my plate. I supposed they still hadn’t regained their appetites after such a shocking loss.
“Oh, he’s horrible to work for,” I teased, hoping to eject a small bit of humour into the melancholic atmosphere. I forked up some green beans and shoved them in my mouth. “The only reason I’m here is because James threatened to dock my wages if I didn’t come.”
They all chuckled, and I was glad I’d made them laugh. I knew what I said wasn’t hilariously funny or anything, but I think they were grateful for the break in tension. Even James’ dad, who sat quietly at the head of the table, cracked a tiny smile.
I chanced a glance at James and he was looking at me in a way that made my chest feel funny. He looked at me with such warmth that I had to focus my attention on my plate to keep from blushing furiously or hyperventilating or both.
Sixteen
James
Michaela was so fucking sweet it hurt. I knew it had to be strange for her, being here with my family while we were in the midst of our grief, but she had no idea what a breath of fresh air she was. We’d needed an outsider, someone who could break us from the sadness that threatened to drown us. I didn’t know how to thank her for being completely charming and adorable and distracting my family from the fact that Mum’s chair sat empty, a stark reminder of what we’d lost. Even Dad seemed more himself, some of the life returning to his eyes. It was heartening to see.
Michaela being here also meant my family might be less inclined to bring up Diana. Yes, they were shocked when I’d called off the wedding, though surprisingly they weren’t particularly sad about it, and that told me all I needed to know. Sure, they’d expressed some small misgivings about her over the years, but they’d never come out and said I was doing the wrong thing. Then again, maybe I wouldn’t have listened even if they did.
“Oh, it was so scary,” Michaela said as she regaled my family with the story of how we’d gotten lost together in Johannesburg in the middle of the night, with no reception on our mobile phones. “I was just glad James was there,” she went on, casting me a grateful glance. “I’m not sure I would’ve found my way without him.”
“Sounds like it was a good adventure though,” Shanise said, catching me staring at Michaela. I quickly schooled my expression, but I wasn’t fast enough to escape the scrutiny of my far-too-perceptive sister.
“It definitely makes for a good story,” Michaela agreed.
I stood and began gathering empty dishes to bring into the kitchen, not realising my error until I turned around and found my sister standing behind me, arms folded.
“You like that girl,” she said, scrutinising me closely.
“She’s been a good friend.” I tried to move by her.
She side-stepped me, eyebrows raised. “Are you sleeping with her?” Shanise was never one to beat around the bush. “Is she the reason you broke things off with Diana?”
“Of course not,” I said, keeping my voice low. I didn’t want anyone overhearing us, especially Michaela. “She’s my assistant, Shan. What sort of person do you think I am?”
She scrutinised me some more, eyes narrowed. “Okay, so maybe you haven’t slept with her, but you want to. It’s written all over your face.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“I don’t imagine. I see clearly, and you, brother, are smitten.”
I sighed heavily, my posture slumping. There was no point in denying it. Shanise was like a dog with a bone when she caught on to stuff like this. I knew she wouldn’t let up until I admitted it. “Even if I am smitten,” I whispered, “I’m not going to do anything about it, so you can rest easy.”
“And why not?”
I frowned at her. “What do you mean, why not?”
“Well, you’re not marrying Diana anymore, so why can’t you pursue Michaela? You’re obviously falling for her.”
My mouth fell open. “I’m not falling for her. I’ve just gotten out of a long-term relationship and Mum’s gone.” I paused, emotion catching in my voice. “I’m in no position to be pursuing anyone, and certainly not my PA. Do you have any clue how bad that would look if things went wrong? I can’t take that chance.”
“What about Callum and Leanne?” Shan argued. “They work together and managed to figure things out.”
“That’s different. Cal and Leanne had an on/off relationship for years. Now can you drop this? Whatever you think you see between us, it could never work.”
Shanise looked sad, like she felt sorry for me. “Sometimes you can’t stop these things, James,” she said, reaching out to give my arm a squeeze. “When you develop feelings for someone, it’s a slow slide that turns into an avalanche. Before you know it you’re buried in snow.”
Her metaphor made my lungs burn. I drew away. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going through too much right now. I won’t put that on Michaela.”
“I thought you liked taking risks,” Shan went on. She really wasn’t going to let up on this. “Isn’t that what parkour’s all about?”
“I don’t take risks with parkour. I weigh my options, plan methodically. I’ve done the same in regard to Michaela and unfortunately, the risks far outweigh the rewards.”
Do they though? A voice in my head asked as I moved past my sister. I wondered if I’d regret letting Michaela slip through my fingers. I thought of the jealousy that slithered through me earlier today when she’d told me the store assistant at the sofa place had asked for her number. I’d wanted to march across the store and tell the bloke to back the hell off. Obviously, I didn’t do that, but the instinct was still there.
Shan’s encouragement made me question myself. If it turned out I never met someone like Michaela again, would I look back and wish I’d made a move? Taken a chance?
I was quiet on the drive back to the house, lost in thought. I couldn’t stop replaying my sister’s words over in my head until they festered, eating away at me. Was I falling for Michaela? No, I couldn’t be, not when I was still grieving, still processing my breakup with Diana.
But then, like Shan said, feelings could develop like an avalanche and it wasn’t in your power to stop them. Plus, I’d known Michaela for almost a year now and I was around her constantly.
Fuck, this was the absolute last thing I needed.
At the house, she disappeared into her room while I sat on the uncomfortable folding chairs in the kitchen, my emotions all over the place. I stood up and paced, then glanced at the ceiling when I heard her laughter.
Who was she talking to?
Was it that Louis guy?
Unable to help my curiosity (and jealousy), I went upstairs and found her door ajar.
“I’m not spending my G-coins on a gold suit of armour. All the nymphs in Shadow Lake will think I’ve gotten too big for my boots.”
Shadow Lake? I peered around the door and found her sitting in bed, wearing one of those headset microphones, her laptop open in front of her.
“Oh, look! Grab that brownie before he gets away. He’s worth a hundred points. Crap, you lost him.”
I rapped my knuckles on the door, causing her to startle and pull off the headset. “James! You frightened the life out of me,” she breathed.
“Sorry.” I stepped into the room. “I heard you talking and got curious. What are you doing?”
“Oh,” she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “I’m just gaming with Sarita and Afric.” She must’ve sensed I needed more information because she patted the space beside her. “Come here and I’ll show you.”
I approached and lowered to sit next to her on the futon. Her hair had been tied up all day, but now it hung in messy,
silky waves around her shoulders. My fingers itched to reach out and touch. I tucked them safely under my legs to stem the urge.
“This is an online game. It’s called Greenforest,” Michaela explained. “The main quest is to free the Mapletree Fairies from their oppressive dictator, the Great Maz, but there are lots of other side quests you can do, too.”
I realised I hadn’t even looked at the screen yet. I’d been too busy studying her, marvelling at the delicate swoop of her nose and the rosy tinge of her lips. I brought my attention to her laptop, which displayed a rural CGI landscape with characters dressed in medieval garb. She pointed out a tall, white-haired warrior woman wearing a full suit of armour.