Her phone bleeped with a message. She finished rolling the cracker she’d been working on and opened it, peeling the glue from her finger pads as she read.
Hey, so I’d like to invite you out on an official date - one where I don’t invite other people along. Are you free tonight? I’m thinking Greek food.
It was Warren. Speak of the devil!Well, she thought to herself,Warren won’t be here forever, and thus far her evening plans amounted to watchingGoggleboxreruns with the aunts. Maybe she shouldn’t overthink it.
As a matter of fact, I am free.
Great! Pick you up at 7?
Sounds good.
See you then. You should know I am having withdrawals from kissing you.
She smiled, enjoying the kick of pleasure that his words incited; and then she thought of Ryan, and the pleasure twisted into something like guilt. She shook herself. She wasn’t cheating on anybody. Ryan had asked her to think about whether shelikedliked him, and she’d said that she would.
She messaged back.
Thank goodness I’m available tonight to sate your cravings.
Can’t wait!
She’d just chosen another paper from this year’s designs when another message came through. She picked up herphone, expecting another message from Warren, but saw Ryan’s name instead and experienced another pleasure surge, this one with extra butterflies that fluttered around her diaphragm. Bloody hell! Was this what playing with fire felt like?
Just saw your mum at the market. I’ve got the packaging through for the coffee cracker gifts. She said I could drop them up to you. Is that okay? Rx
This is why I don’t invite you up. I don’t get a chance, you keep inviting yourself. Fx
I gave you a whole day, and nothing. So, I’ve taken matters into my own hands. I’ll be up in twenty. Do you need a mocha? x
I always need a mocha. x
:)
Twenty minutes later—as promised—Ryan was at the gates. Fred buzzed him in and told him to come straight to the workshop. He knocked the door with his boot, and she looked up to see him smiling through the window, a large box in his hands and two paper cups balanced on the top.She let him in, swiping the cups as he passed her. “Thanks, coffee bitch.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome.”
She had wondered if there would be some awkwardness between them after their confessional on Saturday night, but he was his usual chirpy self, and she followed his example.
“Your mum tells me you’ve designed a new website for the business.”
“It’s not finished yet, but I’ve got the aesthetic locked in.”
“Can I see?”
She pulled up the new home page to the website on her laptop.
“Oh wow, Fred, it’s great! I love it. The animation is so cool.”
“Thanks,” she said, trying and failing not to smile so broadly that she looked like a demonic clown. “I’ve spruced up the Instagram page too. Mum didn’t have time to keep on top of it—and it’s not really her thing, to be fair.” She clicked the link on the home page, held out by a fairy dancing on top of a mince pie, and Instagram loaded in a new window.
“Nice intro,” he said, clicking on her “meet the makers” post. “Such a good idea to incorporate the area, too, really gives people a feel for where you get your inspirations.”
She knew he’d get it.
“I’m going to do posts of all the gift makers, too, and tag their profiles. I guess that’s going to include you now.”
“Hopefully, if you and Bella like the packaging. Great pics of the beach; you’ve captured the wildness.”
