He'll have to break all the rules to keep her, but first she has to break just one and let him in...
It's taken four years, but Anna Fray has finally put the past behind her. Mostly. She fills her days working in a bar and her nights watching bad ro...
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On Monday morning, I was back at Kelly's bar serving a customer, when the bell on the door rang out. I tensed as usual, but this time the feeling of anticipation didn't dissipate when I looked at who had walked in.
"Book boy is back," Emma said happily as she bounced towards the counter. Her long blonde ponytail shimmered as it swung. She hadn't leered at him as much as Callum, but that didn't mean she wasn't equally as interested. It was hard to miss the way she lingered near his table in the hope he'd make an order.
"Atticus," I offered as he settled into his usual position. He was nothing if not a creature of habit.
"He lives upstairs," I said in answer to Emma's raised eyebrow.
"He's the freaky silent neighbour?" Callum exclaimed as he finished warming up a customer's toastie and handed it across the counter.
"Yeah, him and some girl according to Gina."
"Do you think they're together?" Emma queried, the disappointment evident in her voice.
I shrugged. I should be disappointed too, except his good looks didn't send my heart fluttering in my chest. Instead they rose alarm bells, the result of an emotional warning system I installed when I was sixteen.
"Is she that attractive too? Or is he one of those pretty people that puts brains before beauty?" Callum probed salaciously as he pretended to polish the counter beside us.
"No idea."
"If they're not together, whose team do you think he's on?" he pushed with an eager glint in his eye.
"Team?" Emma asked as she settled herself on a stool and twirled her silky blonde hair through her fingers.
"You know, if he had to pick a fruit, do you think he'd prefer a banana, a pair of tangerines, or maybe a full fruit salad?"
I laughed at Callum's analogy.
A crease formed on Emma's brow, pushing her eyebrows down below the level of her fringe. "You've lost me."
"Men or women, Em. Cal's asking if I think he's gay or straight."
"Or all of the above," Callum added, the caramel colour in his hazel eyes twinkling impishly.
I watched Book Boy as I talked, "I have no idea. He doesn't really give off those kinds of vibes."
Callum sighed and propped himself on the counter, dropping all pretence of cleaning. "The lucky few who look like him don't have to. They just exist and the fruit just falls into their hands," he said wistfully, his eyes glued to Book Boy.
"Speak for yourself, no one touches my tangerines without putting some effort in," I said with an indignant smirk.
"Sweetie, your tangerines are superglued to the highest point of the tallest tree in an orangery guarded by the devil himself. They'll wither and shrivel before you let anybody anywhere near them," Callum drawled while he fixed me with that look that was quintessentially Callum. A perfectly groomed raised eyebrow, an audacious stare daring you to disagree, a playful smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.
