by K J Ellis
“Is that you declaring yourself as mine there, Remme?” He throws a seductive look my way.
“Not at all. It would take more than a cuppa and a sausage butty for that to happen.” I can’t help the blush that graces my face.
“You need to stop blushing like that, Rem. You don't realise what it does to me.”
My eyes flicker down and away from his to hide my blushed cheeks, just as I catch him adjusting himself under the table. I want to ask him so much more, but my mouth all of sudden feels so dry that my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth.
Lifting my cup, I take a hearty swig to bring some much-needed liquid to my mouth and trade it for the almost finished butty. Isaak has already finished his coffee, so I take my last bite and push the plate away from me and quickly finish my tea.
“Can I ask you a favour, Remme?” He asks, shifting nervous in the seat.
“Sure, what’s up?” I say without any hesitation.
“I could do with heading to the shop for some bits. Do you mind if we head that way on the way back?”
Oh, I wasn’t expecting him to say that. Why would he have been nervous to ask me that?
“Yeah we can do that. As long as you carry the bags back.” I smile as I go to stand. The weight from carrying the shopping bags will count as part of a light workout for him.
“Come on you.” I grab his bicep to pull him up and immediately wish I hadn’t. The electricity cruising up my arm is enough to have me wanting to be flat on my back or bent over this table in two seconds flat. The quicker we get out of this coffee shop and into open spaces the better.
Chapter Twenty-One
Isaak
Walking through the supermarket doors, I look to Remme for guidance. I haven't been in one for such a long time, I have no clue what to do, hence me asking her to come with me in the first place.
“Hmm, Isaak?”
I can see the worried look on her face.
“Oh God, are you okay? Are you in pain?”
How do I admit to her that I have no fucking clue what I’m doing without looking too…privileged?
“I’m okay, Rem. It’s just, well... No, you will find it ridiculous and will no doubt laugh.” I grumble and go to take a step forward, but she stops me by grabbing my hand gently.
“Isaak, stop. What's going on? Is it the amount of people that are here? If so, we can swing over there and get you a cap or something?”
“Rem, it’s not that, but that’s not a bad idea. It’s just that I don’t know what I’m doing. Don’t laugh. I have someone who does this for me but she’s currently on holiday.” It’s my turn to be embarrassed now, and she can’t help it. She all but rolls around the shop floor, laughing her arse off. In fact, if she hadn’t still got a hold of my hand, I believe she would be. Instead, her other hand holds her steady on my hip while she laughs, so loudly it almost brings attention to us.
“Isaak, are you serious? You really don’t know how to do your own shopping?” She stands to her full height, still giggling to herself, trying to remember how to breathe and letting go of me to hold her belly like she has stitches from all her laughing. “What do you do when she’s off normally?”
“I’m glad I am a good source of amusement for you. To answer your question, she usually stocks my fridge with home-made meals, but it was very last minute. Now will you stop. People are starting to stare and it's not that big of a deal,” I say in a hushed tone.
“I’m so sorry, but I have never met anyone who doesn’t know how to do the most normal, everyday things.” She’s calmed down a bit now but still has a hint of a smirk in her voice. We head off to the side where the bank of trollies are sitting. She pops a coin in to retrieve it from the others and we both head off towards the hats.
“It's not that I don't know, it's just…hard when you do what I do for a living. My life hasn't been normal for a few years now.” She nods her head and shrugs her shoulder, a sign she gets it and it now makes more sense to her.
As I'm looking around the isles, a small, timid boy that seems to be in his teens comes up next to us.
“Errr…Isaak Brookes, I...I...” He stammers and I love this part of what I do.
“What’s up, kid?” I ask, being polite, even though I’m looking to hide behind a cap.
“I was wondering if erm...maybe you would take a selfie with me?” The boy looks like he might wet himself any minute he is so nervous, so I agree to stop the cleaners having to clean up after him. Chatting with the boy a little, I learn his name is Charlie, he’s twelve, watches fight night with his dad and that I’m their favourite boxer. With a quick fist bump and a promise that he won't spread around the fact that I’m in the supermarket, Charlie is on his way. Calling after him, I tell him to stay out of trouble. He nods back at me in agreement.
Looking up, I see Rem where she stands with her hip against the shelves with her arms folded over her chest, a huge smile and what looks like pride shining in her eyes.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” I take a step towards her.
“I’m just surprised, that's all. You're good with the kids, and it was nice what you did for him.”
I grab hold of the trolley and put on the first hat I see, starting to head up the first isle. “I like kids, and they have an innocence about them, but it can get them into trouble. I want to be an idol for them, someone they can look up to, you know, to teach them to choose the right path in life.” Rem bumps her shoulder with mine. “Why, Isaak Brookes, ever the influencer. I like it. It’s a good look on you and a side of you I haven't seen before. It’s charming, I have to say, and I think you made Charlie’s day,” she says, still smiling.
We make our way round the rest of the supermarket. Thankfully, no one else recognises me as we continue asking each other questions, including me asking her to stay for some lunch. She agrees, eventually, after putting up one hell of a fight, but not before she makes me agree to an extra workout once we’ve eaten.
Paying for the few bits of shopping and what I’ve picked up to cook for Remme, we finally leave the supermarket and make our way back to the house. All the way back, we throw more questions back and forth. I finally feel like we are getting to know one another on a more personal level. I find Remme to be easy to talk to, and I open up to her a little, too.
When we finally arrive back at mine, it’s already gone past lunch, so I take the shopping out, and Remme helps me put it away, all accept the salmon and veggies. I take out the necessary pans and place them down.
“Would you like some help with anything?” She comes around the counter to stand next to me, and I'm struck once again with how beautiful she is.
“You can peel and cut those carrots, peelers in that draw.” I point to the draw by her hip. She opens it up and pulls out the peeler and a knife. We work together and it’s perfect. I watch her out the corner of my eye: the way she peels one carrot then chops it before she peels the next; the way she sticks her tongue out a little when she is concentrating…. All the little things I wouldn't notice when we are doing my physio sessions.
“Can I help you?” She startles me, and I realise I am staring right at her.
“Oh, erm no. I was just admiring you. Did you know you poke your tongue out when you're concentrating really hard?” I laugh to try and hide the fact I was really checking her out.
“I do not,” she exclaims.
“You really do,” I tell her, even though she still doesn’t believe me.
Lunch is prepared and soon enough we were sitting down eating it in a comfortable silence. No sudden had we finished up, she had me back in the gym doing more physio work for the next two and a half hours before calling time.
I felt gutted when she called time and we parted ways, with her telling me she’d see me tomorrow and that I needed to be ready for a jog around the park that was down the road.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Isaak
The n
ext few weeks are much the same. Remme and I go out of the house for certain physio sessions, sometimes to the cafe, sometimes for a run and sometimes just for a walk. I like her company, and she makes me laugh—something I haven’t done much of since my fight with Alexander.
Remme seems to be bringing out the best in me, and I’ve got to say, it feels good.
It's just after five in the morning, and I’m lying in bed wide awake. I’ve had the weirdest and most bizarre dream; I don’t normally remember dreams but I do this one. Remme was in it. While it's not a secret that I think she is sexy as hell, what she was doing in my dream got me thinking about it again.
“Come on, Isaak. We are gonna be late.”
I tumble from the lounger out in the back yard and walk towards her. She is climbing the stairs to the bedroom. Catching up to her as she passes through the door, I go to speak when I see her trail of clothes leading to the en-suite. Just as I go to take a step towards her, I hear the jets start up in the shower.
“Coming, Sweetcheeks,” I shout back to her. I enter the room with a spring in my step and climb in the shower behind her.
“Do we have time, Remme?” I ask in a sultry voice as I wrap her up in my arms and nuzzle her neck, reaching up to pinch her perfect nipple.
“Sorry, Bruiser. Not this morning. If we are late, then there won’t be a wedding.”
Grabbing the sponge and squeezing some shower gel on it, I bend down and begin washing her, starting with her sexy legs. Looking up at her, something catches my eye. My breath held, trying to take in air, I make out the sparkling ring glistening on her finger. I look up at her, grabbing her hand with the ring on it. Kissing it, never taking my eyes off her.
“This is really happening, isn't it?” I question with a smile on my face.
“Yes Isaak, it really is,” she replies with a newfound confidence.
I can see the love she has on her face, and it fills me with pride that this woman is mine to love back and protect irrevocably.
“Nothing, and no one will stand in the way of our future, Remme,” I promise her—a promise I have every intention of keeping.
I remember waking up from the dream in a full-on panic. I was covered in sweat and my breathing was brisk as my chest was pounding in a rise and fall motion, my hand on my chest trying to clutch for some air.
The dream has knocked me for six. I don’t know what to make of it all. Marriage? A ring? A future?
Sure, we’ve had a good few weeks getting to know each other and, in some parts, intimately too at the beginning, but all that? It was just a dream I know, but it all seemed so real. It wasn’t what happened in the dream that had me waking in a panic. No, it was the fact that I realised it’s something I now want and I want it with Remme.
Getting out of bed, I figure as I’m awake I may as well take a shower, putting the dream behind me and chalking it up to my subconscious drumming up the scenario due to the fact we have a spark and we have spent a lot of time together lately.
Turning the dial on the shower, I shave at the sink then strip myself of my boxers. I have a quick wash and jump back out again.
Getting dressed then heading downstairs, I enter the kitchen, turning on my dolce gusto, and collecting a pod and cup from the cupboard above I make my coffee in quick time.
Picking my phone up, I see it is now seven thirty. I take a seat out the back. The sun is already out and a light breeze blows across my face. I close my eyes for a second, relaxing in the morning air.
As always, lately, whenever I have a moment to myself, I start to think about Remme again. Whenever she’s not with me, she’s all I seem to think about, no matter how unhealthy it’s becoming.
I’ve put her on a fucking pedestal without even knowing. I’ve never put any woman up that high up in my books; they’ve never been good enough.
There's something about Remme’s personality that tells me she wouldn't be cut out for this life—not with all the attention she'd get from being associated with me. The spotlight isn’t for everyone, and it pisses me off. I can’t have the guts and glory and be who I am without the fame and fortune. It comes hand in hand as one, and there isn't a single damn thing I can do about that.
Making the decision that I need to talk to someone who understands me, I shoot off a message to Owen.
Me: What are you up to mate? Need to talk to you.
I don’t have to wait long before my phone pings with an incoming message.
Owen: Be round in 10 mate!
I love this guy like a brother; he never seems to let me down when I need him most.
I hear the moment Owen walks through my front door, announcing his much-needed arrival.
“I’m here, fuck face. Where’s the fire?” he shouts, his laughing rings out through the house as he shuts the door behind him.
I get up from the lounger and make my way inside and towards the kitchen. No doubt he needs coffee before I start telling him how I’ve become pussy whipped in a matter of weeks.
“No fire. Just wanted to throw something your way that’s all.” I head on past him and switch on the coffee machine, grabbing a fresh cup down from the cupboard and making Owen and myself a drink. I know I need the coffee boost more than he does.
“Okay, what’s up mate. This better be good. I’ve just had to throw a hot totty out of my bed for you,” he teases as he perches himself down on one of the bar stools.
“Why does that not surprise me, you dirty slag?” I laugh at him before I place a hot steaming cup of coffee under his nose.
“I have needs; she met them. What can I say? Needs must mate, needs must.”
I don’t need to know any more. I already know how Owen likes to play the field. I’m the same, or at least I was until Remme walked into my life.
“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something, and I swear to God, if you take the fucking piss or tell everyone I have a pussy where my dick should be, I’ll make you choke on your own dick. You hear me?” I threaten him.
“Humour me,” he says as he takes a sip from his cup.
“I’ve been spending a hell of a lot of time with Remme lately, and I…”
He cuts me off, a huge mischievous smirk now plastered on his face.
“You fucked her, didn’t you?” he laughs
“Fucking hell, it’s not like that but, yeah I did. Now... now she’s all I can think about. She’s consuming my every thought, mate,” I tell him honestly.
“And you call me a dirty slag,” he declares.
“Mate, she’s ruined me for any other woman. She’s fast becoming my fucking kryptonite.”
“You got it bad for her, haven’t you?” He stops laughing at me and turns more serious.
“I don’t know what it is, but I find myself falling for her, and fucking fast. At first, she was throwing me mixed signals, but a few weeks ago she told me she felt something for me, too. The problem I have is that she wants to keep it a secret from everyone; she's worried about her job, which I completely understand. I just… I don’t know if I can. I want the whole world to know she’s mine. The thought of her with anyone else is sending me bat shit crazy. But there’s something in the back of my mind, telling me she’s going bolt before I can show her the real me.” I look at Owen, hoping he doesn’t laugh and sees how serious I am about this.
“Okay, so what do you plan on doing about it?”
“Give up, admit defeat. Give her what she wants. I don’t fucking know,” I softly say, not believing the words I'm telling him, myself.
“You're full of shit, Isaak. Your mouth is telling me one thing, and your face is telling me something in complete contrast.”
This is why I needed to talk with Owen: he understands me better than anyone. It helps that he's always straight with me—doesn't matter if I want to hear it or not, he'll tell me.
“Look, I know I’m one to talk. I've never had to deal with any emotions when it comes to women, not like you and how
you feel about Remme. If you like her that much, try things her way—see how they go. There’s no harm in that, Isaak.”
I briefly catch the slightest sad, pained look on his face, but it disappears just as quickly as it appeared. I don't mention it. Now is not the time, that much I do know.
“Hmm, I guess you’re right. Cheers mate.”
I finished telling him about my sessions and what Remme has had me doing. I even tell him about the Shantel incident, which he laughs at to start off with. He then advises me to stay the hell away from her if I want to pursue things with Remme. I don't disagree with him on that—he's right.
Owen then follows me into my gym. We quietly work away together, even though we're doing our own thing, stopping every now and then for a drink of water or to wipe the sweat off us with a towel.
I’ve been following Remme’s work plan down to a tee, every day, three times a day. On the days I work out on my own, Owen has taken it upon himself to join me sometimes. I have a feeling he thinks I’ll be pushing myself too hard if he’s not there watching me.
The fracture in my hand has pretty much healed, my headaches and migraines are little and not often. I’m still taking the meds for my back, but despite the pain I caused myself pleasuring Remme—which was fully worth it—the pain is now much more manageable.
I've surprised myself with how far I've come in just a few weeks, but now I'm itching to get back into the gym and start lifting my normal weights and training myself like a fighter should do. I'll need to speak to Remme and see if or when she thinks I'll be able to do so.
Before we know it, it's early afternoon. I’ve been in my gym for an hour with Owen.
I’ve given up all hope of Remme showing up today as she'd be here by now, but surely, she would have texted if she wasn't coming. This isn't like her: she's always an early bird.
I’m that much in my own head I don’t hear Owen calling me.