“Yes, Miss.” I might be twice as tall as her, but the authority in her voice still scares the shit out of me.
“And Ashton? For the love of God, call me Rosie. I haven’t been your teaching assistant for quite a few years now.” She huffs out a laugh, then looks to Cal. “Why don’t you clear this crap up from the floor and finish up. Your shift is nearly over, anyway; I can close up.”
“Thanks, Rosie. I will,” her quiet, shaky voice replies.
Cal mops while I wipe down the front of the counter. We’re finished in no time, but when I circle the café the three or four tables remaining all have their eyes on me. The feel of Cal’s hand brushes mine, “Come on, stud, let’s get you out of here.”
I follow her footsteps then once we’re outside; she spins around, wraps her hand around my neck and pulls me down towards her. I bring her closer still, pressing my palm to her back and holding her as close as I’m able to get while taking full possession of her mouth. Her intention was probably a peck, but I’m a greedy bastard. As she pulls away, she breathes out, “You’re something else, Ashton Chambers.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself. I like your creative thinking with the dregs of that old shake.”
“Hey, it was nothing compared to what you did. I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that before. You can meet me every day after work if this is how you look after me.”
“I was watching them from outside for a while. It wasobvious what those fuckers were up to. I won’t stand by and watch a spineless cocksucker disrespect you like that.”
I want to tell her I’ll look after her every day, but I won’t make a promise I can’t keep. Instead, I pull her back to me, taking her mouth with my own, just one more time. Her full sweet lips return my kiss all over again, and when we finally part, her body presses closer to mine while her hands are interlinked around my neck. “You didn’t have to step in and defend me, but I’m glad you did.” Calla pulls herself up again, placing her mouth by my ear and whispers, “It turned me on. Massively.” Landing back on her feet, she looks down, a blush to her beautiful face. If my house weren’t like Piccadilly fucking Circus right now, I’d drag her cute arse back there, but Calla has other ideas as it happens. Her hands slide down both of my arms; her fingers link with mine.
“Follow me,” she indicates with her head to the side.
“Where are we going?”
“To mine.”
She giggles all shy and sexy as shit while she urges me forward. “Come on; I’m taking you home.”
“To meet your family?” I panic, but total relief floods through me when Calla laughs again. “I wouldn’t put you through that just yet.” But she says nothing else, so I’m guessing they’re out.
Her cut off jean short shorts are pretty distracting as I follow behind at first, taking in her bum which teases just below the loose strings of cotton brushing her smooth skin. She glances back towards me, her chin brushing lightly against her shoulder, her eyes drawing me in. The way she swings her hips could make a man weep. She tugs my hand; bringing me to her side, so I wrap my hand around her waist. I resist the temptation to run my fingers down to the hem of her shorts and brush her smooth curves. If I did, it wouldmake me no better than the arse-wipe who tried to grope her in the café.
She glances up, her perfect white smile in place. I’m semi-hard already, and all she had to do was look at me.
It’s less than a five-minute walk to Cal’s. The familiar Victorian terrace she leads me to is in a pretty nice part of town. I used to cycle past this place on the way to school every day, wishing I had the guts to knock on her door, but I never did.
Holding her hand out for me to take, our fingers entwine as she silently leads me into her childhood home. It’s looking more lived-in than the last time I came here. The layout inside is similar in design to the house I rent except bigger. There isn’t too much here, but at least all the blankets covering the furniture have gone. The kitchen is spacious, full of wooden cabinets and an old-fashioned table which could easily fit a large family. But there has only ever been Cal’s grandparents and mother around, as far as I know.
“So, we’re alone?”
“We are,” she grins.
“How long do we have?” I can’t stop smiling.
“Don’t worry. My grandparents aren’t around.”
“Oh, fuck. Cal, I’m sorry, you never said?—”
“Don’t worry, they’re not dead, they live in Greece now,” she laughs.
“Thank fuck, I felt like a prize dick for a minute.” Then I remember she mentioned her grandparents were abroad. I just assumed they were on holiday.
“They kept this house in case they didn’t settle. They also wanted me to have a base when I came home.”
I follow her into the familiar living room. We stayed here after Cal’s accident with the lamp post, except then, the place was totally un-lived in. Now, there’s a TV in the cornerwhich I didn’t notice before. Still, I’ll never forget her grandad’s pretty awesome record collection and sound system in the display cabinet. Another addition to the room is a single photo of Cal with her grandparents. I recognise them but not the person standing to her left. She must be her mum.
We round the dark red sofa which sits in the middle of the room. Cal nudges the small white square table with a rug underneath out of the way with her knee, so we sit at the same time, but our hands stay linked.
The photo jolts my memory back to when her nan would drop off Cal in a large Volvo. I’d see them leaving here some mornings if I was passing at the right time. “What about your Mum?”
“What about her?”
