‘Promise?’ I rubbed my thumb in a gentle circle on the back of his neck.
He shivered, but his arms remained tight around me. ‘I promise.’
I pushed up onto my tiptoes to press my face into the side of his neck, wondering if he could feel my cheek-splitting smile against his skin.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CALLUM
Ididn’t fully relax into holding Aster. I remained vigilant, ready for the first sign he wanted me out of his space.
I tensed when he sighed, his breath rushing over the side of my neck, but he didn’t step away. His fingers grasped my collar and danced in incomprehensible patterns between my shoulder blades.
I would hold him forever if he let me.
I’d watched as he’d finished setting up squares of twine around short wooden stakes earlier than usual and hiked back to the cabin. My annoyance had been illogical. Aster had never agreed to any kind of routine—that would involve talking to one another—but I needed to take the bread out of the proving drawer in the next half hour otherwise the loaf would be ruined.
I’d lingered outside the cabin, hoping that after Aster finished chatting to his dad, he’d leave. I’d only realised I was too focused on eavesdropping when the goat I was meant to be examiningbit my wrist.
‘That’s unkind,’ I admonished her, then held my hands up when she bared her teeth. The expectant mothers were getting cranky. They didn’t appreciate being manhandled, and especially didn’t appreciate me drifting off in the middle of a check-up.
I’d lived so far from people for too long. Aster fascinated me, but I would have been captivated by this overheard conversation anyway. The love between the father and son was evident in every word leaving their mouths. They clearly took such joy in each other’s company, even through a phone screen.
Like when Aster cried as he looked at the empty husk of my family home, listening to this conversation with his father made me ache. And not just because Aster didn’t mention me at all, which shouldn’t have been a surprise since I’d made it my mission to avoid him. No, the ache came from that place inside longing for this kind of easy love no matter how many times I squashed and denied it.
The joyful banter didn’t cease until the call ended. That’s why it took a few seconds for what happened afterwards to register. All of Aster’s words had clearly been formed through beaming smiles while talking to his dad, so I couldn’t immediately decipher his choked breathing once the call ended.
I stood up when I realised he was crying, and I knew the avoidance I’d been practising couldn’t continue.
Aster’s scent had become no less intriguing. Even without that, everything I’d observed of him in hidden snatches made me want to get closer. The arguments that I had to be alone and I didn’t deserve friendship sounded weak when someone I desperately wanted to know was in myhome. Aster wouldn’t be here forever. Once he was gone, I would go back to the life I should be living. This time with him would be a brief reprieve from the yawning loneliness of the rest of my life.
I’d been half thinking these things as each day passed, but when I heard Aster crying in the cabin the last thread of my self-control snapped. I couldn’t leave him to be sad alone. I’d raced across the grass and crashed inside.
What followed were a series of unreal events. I cringed at myself for making Aster feel unwelcome, but of course he’d interpreted my absence in that way.
Then he’d hinted at wanting me to touch him.
I’d barely breathed before he clarified, and hoped he would be too distracted by the embrace to question how quickly I’d crossed the room.
He couldn’t know extracting the promise that I wouldn’t disappear again was unnecessary. I’d resisted closeness with Aster, but now I knew he wanted me here, nothing would keep me away. Not my dark history, not my habitual aloneness, not the frightening idea that letting someone close was what had ruined my life before.
I breathed deep, letting Aster’s ever-shifting scent fill my lungs. I was exactly where I should be. At least for now.
‘You’re a good hugger,’ Aster mumbled into my shirt.
I didn’t know how to reply. I hadn’t had much hugging practice, and it was lucky desperate clinging appealed to him. I didn’t think he’d want to hear how wonderful his arms felt around me. I’d not thought I’d craved this before, had gone years touching others in a purely perfunctory manner, but this hug hadn’t even ended yet and I was already longing for the next one.
Despite that, when Aster edged his feet back I loosened my arms and stepped away.
To resist staring into wide brown eyes framed by long lashes, I grabbed the bread from the proving drawer. I washed my hands, spread flour over the counter, then pounded air out of the springy dough.
My shoulders stiffened when Aster stood beside me, leaning his hip on the counter. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him close, but I didn’t know how to be around anyone else. I’d been alone for too long.
‘Are you mad at the bread? Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather you took your rage out on dough than on me or an unsuspecting goat, but has it wronged you in some way?’
I buried my fist in the dough. ‘I’m knocking the air out.’
Aster shrugged, his eyes tracking me as I shaped the loaf and placed it on a baking tray. ‘I’ve never seen anyone make bread before, except onBake Off. They don’t make knocking look quite so vicious.’
