Page 63 of Strangers in my Bed


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I only hope I deserve them.

I’m really not so sure after the mess I made last night. I hate how I was such a heartless cow about the toys in his bottom drawer.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks when I pause in conversation, my mind zoning back in on monster puppets.

“Sorry?”

“You always look out of the window with a certain expression on your face when you’re lost in thought. What is it?”

“I was wondering what the town on the left is,” I tell him, which is half true. I was.

Yet again, he must be reading my mind. He’s too good at it.

“You’re still giving yourself shit over the finger puppets, aren’t you?”

“Maybe. A bit.”

“Stop it, Cass. I mean it. It was my bad, not yours.”

There’s no point having a debate with him, since there is no way he’ll accept it was my fault.

“I’ll stop it,” I tell him. “I promise. Water under the bridge.”

“Water well and truly under the bridge. Those crappy little monsters never need mentioning again.”

Ok. I’ll listen to him. He’s always the one in the right anyway, so I should do.

I’m both nervous and excited as the signs for Bucklebury appear.

“We’re here, baby,” Ant says as he turns into the High Street.

It’s almost dark outside, and it makes Bucklebury Hall look all the more glorious as the lights glow.

“Fuck,” Ant says. “I’m so glad I booked us in there.”

So am I, and give him a grin.

“Just wait until we get inside. It rivals Quentin Manor on the posh front.” I laugh. “Well… almost.”

I don’t need to tell Ant the way to my parents’ house, since sat nav is showing it loud and clear, so instead I point out the different places on our route and what they mean to me. My cousin’s house down on Broad Street, and the estate on the hill that Michelle lives in. The old milk yard where I learnt to ride my bike and the local park where I’ve been climbing the same battered old climbing frame since I was tiny.

We’re not far from Mum and Dad’s when I point out the local pub on the corner, telling Ant it was where I had my first drink with Michelle.

“Was it champagne?” he asks.

“No. It wasn’t champagne and it definitely wasn’t De Chante. It was a pint of local cider, with three more to follow. We were wrecked and had our first ever cigarette in the park on the way back to hers.”

“You used to smoke?”

“Sometimes.”

“I’m glad you don’t smoke now. It’s a disgusting habit. Gerwyn smokes, and it’s bloody vile.”

He says it with so much venom I can only imagine Gerwyn blowing fumes right in his face.

“Does he smoke in the apartment when he’s staying with you?”

“Hell, no. He can go outside in the fucking rain if he wants one. I don’t give a shit if it’s raining a hailstorm, he can still get out there.”

Hearing Ant’s disgusted tone only confirms the fact that I’ll never have a cigarette again. The memories of Ant talking about his mum and grandad both smoking come back to me. Of course he hates cigarettes. He hates drinking too, and microwave meals. He has a reason for everything he does.

“You said Gerwyn takes your advice on virtually anything,” I say, trying to lighten the conversation with a laugh. “How come you haven’t talked him into giving up cigarettes by now?”

“Gerwyn takes my advice on virtually anything work related. With things outside of it he’s a little more stubborn.” He smirks at that. “We’ve had a few heated battles over the years when he’s been a self-righteous prick, but for the most part he does as he’s told.”

I can’t imagine anyone being stubborn or self-righteous with Ant. He’s just too powerful and rational. I sure can’t imagine having to stand up to him in an argument.

“Here we are, princess,” Ant says, and pulls into Mum and Dad’s road.

Their house is in the middle of the terrace, and they are already waiting at the window when Ant’s Audi pulls into view – I can see their waving silhouettes. They’re at the door as we park up next to their car, with Sarah, Dave and Harry stepping out to follow them. Harry races out with his arms open wide.

“Cassie! YAYYY!”

I sweep him up, and the force of just how much I’ve missed them hits me hard. I try to hide it as best I can, but I can’t help it. I let the tears fall when I see Mum is as choked up as me. She takes hold of me after Harry does, giving me one hell of a hug.

“Everyone, this is Ant,” I tell them with pride, just as soon as Mum lets me go.

He looks like the hottest guy alive as he steps forward and gives them a handshake one by one, even dropping to a crouch to give Harry’s little hand a shake as well.

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