Something in the Air

by L.H. Cosway

  Besides, I was settled in my career now. Being on TV no longer made me panic like it had at the start, and I was used to the fame that came with it. I shouldn’t have to rely on pills to help me deal with something that no longer scared me.

  I cleared my throat. “What about last night?”

  Michaela gave a shy smile. “I just wanted to let you know that I meant what I said. If you ever need to talk, about anything at all, I’m here.”

  My chest warmed at her kind reminder, the way her open, guileless brown eyes stared across the table at me. She had no idea how much it meant for her to say that, to know I had someone outside of my family and friends who I could confide in. For some reason, I felt more comfortable talking to her than I did with my brother or sisters, even my best friends. There was just something incredibly non-judgemental about Michaela. It drew me to her in a way I’d never been drawn to anyone before.

  “Thank you,” I said, and on instinct, I reached out and touched her hand, my fingers brushing her knuckles. I’d only meant to convey my gratefulness, but the spark of heat that ran from her body to mine was jarring. I quickly removed my hand and stood from the table.

  “Right, well, I was going to leave to go couch shopping in about an hour.”

  “I’ll be ready,” she said with a nod, and I went upstairs.

  How was being in the same room with her so intense all of a sudden? Maybe it was because I hadn’t been aware of my attraction to her for a long time. What it meant. It was clearly the reason why I gravitated to her, but I’d always thought it was simply a personality thing. We got along well, so obviously I’d enjoy her company. I never knew my heart wanted something from her. Something it never had. I couldn’t deny there was a warmth in Michaela where Diana had only ever been cold.

  It felt horrible to compare them, but I couldn’t help it. Diana had been suffocating me for years. Now that we were over, I finally felt like I could breathe again.

  And Michaela was the oxygen I craved.

  Fifteen

  Michaela

  “So, do you prefer leather or fabric?” I asked as James and I strolled through endless aisles of sofas and armchairs. I was particularly smitten with those large swivel chairs that looked like the perfect place to snuggle up with a good book. They were only big enough for one person though, or two people if they were sitting particularly close.

  And now I was imagining snuggling with James, and that was an image that needed to get right out of my head.

  “I don’t know,” James replied. “I feel like I’ll know the perfect couch when I see it.”

  I flopped down onto another swivel chair, this one made from grey velvet fabric. “What about one of these?” I suggested. “You could still get a couch and use this as an armchair.”

  James’ lips curved into a smile. “I’m not sure that’s my style.”

  “Well, okay, crushed velvet probably isn’t for you, but you can have one made in any colour or fabric you like. Look, it swivels,” I said, rocking the chair from side to side. “Come and try it out.”

  I realised my error when James lowered himself to sit next to me and my snuggling fantasy was almost real. “It’s a bit of a tight squeeze for two,” he said quietly.

  “Well, it’s not really meant for two.”

  “I thought it was a love seat,” he went on, his low voice so close it was doing strange things to me.

  “No, it’s a swivel chair. See?” I said, giving another push and causing James’ shoulder to knock into mine, his forearm brushing my wrist.

  A memory of this morning came to me, when he’d reached out to touch my hand. Butterflies flooded my stomach again. I was sure the feeling of heat was completely one-sided, and it felt so incredibly awkward to have such a visceral reaction when the other person obviously didn’t feel the same way.

  “Sorry,” I said, our faces only inches apart. “I was just trying to demonstrate.”

  “No worries,” he said, then ran his hand along the arm of the chair.

  Stop finding that sexy, you perv.

  I quickly stood. “We should keep moving. There are lots more to see.”

  James rose and we continued to mosey down the aisle. A salesperson approached, wearing black slacks and a bright red polo shirt. His name tag read ‘Masoud’ and he had the most perfectly manscaped beard I’d ever seen.

  “Hi guys, can I help you with anything?”

  “We’re looking for a couch,” I said, then shook my head at myself. “Sorry, stating the obvious.”

  Masoud gave a light chuckle, and his smile was even more perfect than his beard. Straight teeth, too. “Right, that’s generally what people come here for. If you need any help, just give me a shout.” His attention went to James and he seemed a little shy. “By the way, you probably find this annoying, but I just wanted to say I’m a big fan of your show.”

  “It’s not annoying at all,” James replied. “I’m always happy to meet a fan.”

  Sometimes I forgot that he was a celebrity. He wasn’t the kind of famous where people recognised him everywhere he went, but every once in a while, fans approached him. It was the same for Isaac and Paul. Trev, Callum, and Leanne were slightly more high profile. Trev because he was the show’s creator and main star, and Callum and Leanne because their relationship put them in the spotlight.

  Masoud pulled out his phone. “Would you mind taking a selfie with me?”

  “Not at all,” James replied, and they quickly took a picture. Masoud shook his hand, gushing thanks and left us to continue couch hunting.

  “I don’t know how you do it. I’d hate to be recognised by strangers,” I said, bristling at the thought.

  “You wouldn’t like to be famous?” James questioned, seeming interested.

  “No way. The very idea makes my skin crawl.” He stared at me now. I blinked at him. “What?”

  He smiled. “That’s a very strong reaction. Most people say they’d love to be famous.”

  “Well, I don’t understand the instinct. I mean, think about it. The best possible scenario is to be famous and rich, which only happens to the lucky few. A lot of famous people aren’t even that rich nowadays,” I paused, wincing. “No offence.”

  James chuckled. “None taken. And I might not be super rich, but I do okay.”

  “I’d just hate the scrutiny, everybody knowing who you are, details of your personal life being accessible by the public. But then you still have to go out and do your own grocery shopping, have people snap pictures of you while you’re trying to decide which toilet paper to buy.”

  “Well, at least I have you and Neil to buy my toilet paper for me,” James quipped.

  I grinned. “Right. That is true. Thankfully we can remain anonymous while we shop for you.”

  We fell into silence for a minute, just staring at each other before James started to frown and moved on. I chewed my lip, worried he might’ve sensed some hint of my crush from the way I was looking at him just now. I stood close by, my stomach in knots, still worrying, while James checked out a navy couch.

  “Before I was on TV, I never wanted to be famous either, but nobody seemed to understand,” he said.

  I studied him. “They didn’t?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, my family would’ve supported me no matter what I chose, but Diana was dead set on me being in the show. If it weren’t for her encouragement, I don’t think I ever would’ve gone ahead with it. It comes naturally to me now, but back then I was terrified of being on camera.”

  I was surprised by his admission, especially since James came across so confident and sure of himself. He might be quiet, but he wasn’t shy. But then when I thought about it some more, it made perfect sense. James and I were kindred spirits. He was about as likely to seek out fame as I was to stand up on one of these couches and scream that I fancied the pants off him.

  “Sometimes,” I said, “I watch episodes of the show when they’re on TV and catch brief glimpses of myself in the background. It�
�s such a weird feeling. I guess because you never really see yourself from that faraway angle.”

  “You don’t like it?” James questioned, curious.

  “It’s not that I don’t like it. It just goes against my nature. My natural instinct is to be invisible. I know that sounds strange because most people love attention. But attention just feels…I don’t know, scary to me.”

  James ran his hands over the couch, maybe trying to decide if he liked the fabric or not. “That is strange,” he agreed, glancing at me now. “I get not liking being the centre of attention in a room full of people, but don’t you even like attention from one person?”

  I shrugged. “That’s different, I guess, but it has to be the right person.”

  “What sort of person is that?” James probed.

  “My friends, people I…like,” I answered in the quietest voice possible.

  “So there’s good attention and bad attention,” James surmised.

  “Exactly,” I said, hoping he’d drop the subject. I suddenly felt like he was secretly psychoanalysing me.

  “Do you ever wonder why you feel that way?” he went on.

  “Sometimes,” I murmured. “When I was little, my brother Bennet used to be a bit of a bully.” He still was, but I didn’t want to get into that right now. “He’d resented our parents taking me in. Rather than seeing it as an act of kindness, he saw it as a reflection on him, like he wasn’t enough for them, so they went and found someone else’s kid to raise.” I was pretty sure he still felt that way, even though he was a thirty-two-year-old grown adult. Some people never got over their teenage insecurities. “He’d tell me if I didn’t behave, our parents would send me back into foster care,” I went on. “So I always tried to be as quiet and invisible as possible. People used to compliment my mum and dad on how well-behaved I was. They had no idea how Bennet had gotten into my head. He made me terrified of doing something wrong and being kicked out onto the street.”

  James frowned at me now. “Jesus Christ.”

  I shrugged, eyes lowering. “I got through it.”

  He came to stand in front of me. “Your brother is a dickhead for saying that to you. What a fucking psycho. I knew there was something off about him when he came to see you at the gym. I got a bad vibe.”

  “I’m glad you noticed. Some people are so fooled by Bennet. They see the suit and somehow think he’s a good, respectable person.”

  “Did you ever tell your parents?” James asked.

  I shifted away, unable to take his closeness or the sympathy in his eyes. “No. Like I said, when I was a kid, I was too scared to tell them. Then as I got older, I planned to move away and live with my friends. A big part of it was so that I wouldn’t have to see Bennet very often. And I don’t really see him now, well, except for when he comes looking for me.”

  James’ expression darkened. “Does he do that a lot? Come to see you, I mean?”

  I shook my head. “His last visit was the first time. I think he resents the fact that I’m living my own life now and don’t have to rely on Mum and Dad anymore. He can’t get into my head like he used to.”

  James reached out, surprising me when he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes wandering back and forth between mine. “Next time he shows up, give me a call. I don’t mind being a buffer. I’ll even scare him off if you want me to.”

  “That’s very kind of you but—”

  “No buts,” James interrupted, his voice sincere. “You’ve been a rock for me lately. I don’t know what I’d do without you. So I definitely owe you.”

  I blinked, trying not to become emotional. “Well, thank you. And I’m glad having me around has helped. I was starting to worry I was getting under your feet.”

  “Never. I love having you around,” he said, and my heart skipped a beat. I felt breathless all of a sudden.

  “Well, we’d better get back to shopping,” I said.

  “No need. I’ve made my decision. I want this one.” James gestured to the navy sectional we were standing in front of.

  “It is pretty comfy,” I said, sitting down. James sat next to me and we were shoulder to shoulder again.

  “Why don’t you go tell Masoud we’ll take it,” he suggested.

  I glanced at him. “You’re definitely sure?”

  James studied me a moment, his eyes moving across my face, and I wished to know what he was thinking. “I’m sure.”

  He pulled a credit card from his wallet and I took it, our fingers brushing in the process. I was never aware of touching other people the same way I was aware when I touched James. Even the tiniest brush of his fingers sent a thrill through my whole body. I walked over to the counter where Masoud stood talking to another customer and got in line.

  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.