Page 54 of A is for Aftercare

Corey stares at Blake. “You are?”

"Yup," I answer for him. "There's always a cheap family showing at nine." I should know. I've taken Lexi to it enough times. "And then out for McDonald's and ice cream afterwards."

“Maybe not McDonald’s,” Blake says.

“Aww,” Lexi whines.

I frown. “You love it there.”

He pushes his food around his plate. “I’m not going to eat junk food anymore. It’s not good for me.”

“Since when?” I ask.

“Why?” Lexi asks in a horrified tone.

"I want to stay in shape for modelling, that’s all,” Blake says in a tone that suggests I should stop asking questions.

“Aww!” Lexi pouts.

"Blake can watch you eat burgers and ice cream,” I say, winking at my brother.

He sneers at me, which seems like a good time to make my exit.

“I’ll see you all on Sunday,” I say, kissing the top of Lexi’s head. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That’s not a long list of things we can’t do,” Blake says.

“Funny guy.”

I wait until I’m in the doorway before flipping my finger at him again. Lexi has her back to me, so can’t see, but I earn a disapproving look from Corey.

I head out the door, whistling as I walk down the street towards the tube station and my weekend date with Hamish.

14

Hamish

I meet Archie at the door around seven thirty. He's got a bag slung over his shoulder but is dressed as he was for work. I go to kiss his cheek. It seems like the right thing to do, as this is officially a date. He turns his face so our lips collide. Not complaining, I grab him by the waist and tug him close. Through my kiss, I show him very firmly who's in charge.

“That was naughty,” I say.

“Sorry, Sir.”

I know he’s not by the smirk on his lips, which glistens with my saliva.

“I made dinner. Unless you’ve already eaten?”

"Nope, I passed up spaghetti and meatballs on the off chance we'd eat together. It looks like I made the right choice."

After putting his bag at the bottom of the stairs, we go through to the kitchen. I gesture for him to sit at the table while I serve up the casserole that’s keeping warm in the oven. It seemed like a safe option, considering I didn’t know exactly when he’d arrive.

“This smells lovely,” Archie says, sticking his nose into the fragrant steam rising from the casserole.

I’ve given us both a glass of water to keep our options open for later. Wine is nice with a meal, but I don’t ever drink and play.

“It was no bother,” I say.

“Do you enjoy cooking?”