I showered quickly — too quickly, because I didn’t want to leave him alone long enough to start spiralling.Or change his mind.When I came out, he was perched on the arm of the sofa, scrolling through his phone, looking as if he belonged there.
“Hungry?”I asked.Feeling relieved yet buzzing with optimism.
“Starving.”
“Good.There’s a café in Richmond I go to all the time.Best bacon rolls in London.”
His eyes lit up.“Lead the way.”
The café was its usualSunday chaos — clattering plates, the smell of coffee, and the low hum of locals who’d been coming here since the dawn of time.Robbie hovered close to me, taking it all in with that wide-eyed curiosity that made everything feel new.
We’d barely sat down when Gavin materialised like a gremlin summoned by the scent of gossip and bacon.
“Ashton!”he crowed, sliding into the booth beside Robbie without invitation.“You didn’t tell me you were bringing company.”
I love my friend, I really do, but sometimes he was a real pain in the ass.
Robbie blinked.“Uh...hi?”
I could see the question in his beautiful blue eyes, but before I could reassure him that Gavin was just my pest of a best friend and not something else.Gavin leaned across the table, stage-whispering, “He’s Robbie, right?The writer?”
Robbie froze.“I—yes?”
Robbie’s panic was almost palpable.He was looking everywhere but at me or the chaos gremlin who I was plotting to kill, or at the very least, rescind his biscuit access.
Gavin beamed.“Oh, he’s going to die.Ashton’s been obsessed with your books for months.Proper fanboy behaviour.Highlighting passages.Annotating.I caught him rereading chapter fourteen at least six times...”
“Gavin,” I hissed, kicking him under the table.
Robbie turned to me, stunned.“You...read my stuff?”
I felt my ears burn.“I might have.Once or twice.”
“Try twenty times,” Gavin said cheerfully.“He even...”
“Gavin, I swear to God—”
“—stole my biscuits while doing it.”
Now that was a totally arse-faced lie; the back-stabbing jerk was the one who raided my stash of Jammie Dodgers – after eating his own, sniffing them out from their hiding place like some crazy biscuit-finding bloodhound.
Robbie laughed — a bright, warm sound that made my stomach flip.“You stole his biscuits?”
“I did not steal—okay, I stole one.Maybe two.”
“Six,” Gavin corrected.
All a total lie!!!!
I shoved him out of the booth.“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
“Nope,” he said, but he wandered off anyway, waving like a menace.
Robbie looked at me, softer now.“You really read my work?”
I shrugged, suddenly shy.“It’s good.You’re good.”
His smile was small but radiant.“Thank you.”
