Ash pulls me up the stairs, we crash into his bedroom, and a fit of the giggles takes over us as we fall onto the bed. We lay opposite one another; his hand running over my hair. Then his eyes roam my face, but I don’t know what he’s looking for.
“Tell me now Cal, now the music’s died down and the Champagne is out of your system. Are you really okay about all this?”
“About you going to New York? You know I am. I want what’s best for you; what’s best for the band. I’d never hold you back from your future.”
“So, you’ll come with us then?”
My stomach drops. Did I mislead him that much? Did I say I’d follow him anywhere? I can’t remember now. I can’t remember my exact words and I should. They seem so important now. “Ash, I have to stay here. I have a degree to finish, remember?”
“And you said you’d look into maybe doing it on-line or an alternative.”
“No, you said that. I think I agreed to see you whenever I could, but I can’t give up what I’ve been working for the last three years. Please understand, I just need to finish this last year of uni, then who knows.”
He takes my hand, running his thumb over mine. “I suppose, deep down, I knew your answer.”
“All we have to do is get through this next year, that’s all. Then we can find a way to be together. Until then, we have to prepare ourselves for long periods apart.”
He rolls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. I get the feeling it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, so I crawl on top of him and straddle his body. “We can do this—both of us. What I don’t want is for you to be down. You need to look forward with the enthusiasm and excitement your future deserves. Think about it. New York Ash, I mean, I’d give my right arm?—”
“Then come with me.” His eyes follow his hand, rubbing up and down my thigh.
“I was going to say, I’d give my right arm to have my lastyear there, but I can’t. It won’t be long before I can join you, and I promise I will visit whenever I have a break. Every break.”
He huffs out a sigh, and I mean a proper huff like a spoilt kid. “Hey,” I smooth my fingers along the line of his strong jaw. “It’s not forever.”
From nowhere, he rolls me over and pins my arms back against the bed. “Promise you’ll be with me every spare minute you can.”
“Already promised.”
“And not to look at any of the university boys while I’m not here.”
“Technically, you’re still a university boy and the only one I’m interested in. Anyway, it’s me with the jealousy problem. I’ve still got to get my head around all those girls who I’m sure will vie for your attention.”
“I told you, you’re the only one that matters, the only one I want to come back to.”
“Hold that thought. I’m going to be a nightmare.”
His lips take mine as if there is another message in his kiss. It’s reassurance, security, trust and I can’t help but accept all those things from him. This year will be a bitch, but I have to deal with it. I’m not losing him under any circumstances. Not ever.
His hand runs up the line of my short skirt and is just about to duck under the material when there’s a call from downstairs.
“Kids, breakfast is ready.”
“Shit,” he says, flopping his body over mine. “I was hoping to eat you first.”
I giggle against him. “Next time. We better go, the others are waiting.”
The café is absolutely heaving when I arrive, as it always is during the run-up to festival weekend. Rosie got her niece in to help, but she and Scott are still running around like blue arsed flies. I don’t have time to cock about today, worrying about how I feel. As soon as I get my apron on, I’m thrown in at the deep end. There are several dirty tables, a takeaway queue filled with impatient customers, and a stack of crockery waiting for the dishwasher.
It's a shame Liz’s theory of a substantial breakfast didn’t do the trick for me. I get to work for the afternoon shift, convinced someone beat seven bells out of me last night, while my stomach turns at the thought of dealing with more food. My body aches everywhere. It could have been the dancing, but most likely is the attempt at gymnastics in the garden during the early hours of this morning. I convinced the others I could do a backward walkover. The reality is, I was never supple, even as a little one. You’d think I’d have learnt that by now.
“What the hell happened to you last night?” Scott asks, a smirk across his face.
“Everything. Absolutely everything happened, but the key event was Ash and the boys signing their recording contract with Election.”
“That happened yesterday? I’m sure Ash said they were signing it at Brae Fest.”
“You’ve seen him?” Ash hadn’t said.
