Chapter 27 Freddie
Freddie
The recording of Monday's impromptu performance blares from my phone as Shaun watches the screen.
Last night, someone—one of that group of girls, I assume—posted a reel of me singing in the café to Instagram.
It had just over five hundred likes when my mate Scotty sent it to me this morning with the message: "yo, it’s you!
" Stealing a glance over Shaun’s broad shoulder, I see the number is now over a thousand.
The reel finishes and immediately loops back to the start. Shaun opens the caption and reads it.
I jump in. “Before you say anything, it wasn’t on purpose!
Anna asked me to look after her son and I don’t know the first thing about kids but he had that little keyboard so I thought I’d play some music with him and then…
well, you’re looking at what happened next. Things got a little out of hand.”
Shaun lifts the phone up to his face, scouring the text. “Hashtag ‘the singing barista’?”
I grimace. “I know. A bit cringe, eh?”
Shaun’s head snaps up from the phone, his thick brows cast in a heavy frown. Shit. He’s annoyed. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to tell him.
“It’s not cringe at all. You sound great, Freddie.”
I feel my eyebrows fly up my forehead. “Oh! Thanks. So, uh, why do you look so mad?”
His brow softens and he shakes his head. “I’m not. I just can’t believe I missed it. Listen to that!” He holds up the phone as the crowd whoops and cheers. “The atmosphere in here must have been electric.”
Wow, he’s taking this well. Suspiciously well. I assumed he’d hate the idea of a spontaneous gig erupting in the middle of his fancy modern café. Unless…
“Has Anna spoken to you?” I ask.
“Not since the other day. Why?”
I stuff my hands in my apron pocket and rock back and forth on the balls of my feet.
“She had this idea that maybe I could, sort of, play here sometimes. I said you probably wouldn’t be interested, but I think she was gonna try and convince you it’d be good for business.
People did seem to vibe with it or whatever.
Obviously, it’s totally your call.” The fuzzy sound of Ethan’s toy keyboard sputters out of the phone speaker.
“Before you decide, you should know I sound much better with an actual guitar.”
Shaun cracks a smile. “I believe you.”
I drag my teeth over my bottom lip. “I could give you a private audition, if you like. Just me and my guitar. Clothing mysteriously absent, of course.”
“Tempting.” Shaun hands me back my phone and starts to pace up and down, stroking his beard. After a couple of laps, he lets out a small sigh. “But I think I’d rather hold off for your debut.”
“My debut?”
Shaun stops pacing and leans against the counter. “Live next Saturday at Cream & Sugar café: Freddie Young, the singing barista.” He gesticulates with one arm like he’s giving a pitch on Dragon’s Den. “It does have a nice ring to it.”
No way! He’s going to let me play?
“Next Saturday? I mean, yeah totally! Although I have to say, I don’t love the ‘singing barista’ bit.”
Shaun gives me a crafty look. “Fair enough. Do you have your own mic and stuff?”
I nod, vigorously. “Yup! Mic, amp, pedals, everything.” Safely stashed in the garage where the burglars couldn’t reach. “Are you sure you want this, Shaun? You want your perfect little café full of me and my crooning?”
“Once a week. Saturday afternoons. We can charge a fiver entry, or free if they buy something. Any tips you make are all yours. What do you think?”
“I think you’re the best boyfriend ever!”
“Get me that printed on a mug or it means nothing.” He chuckles, then looks at me all serious. “Look, I know you’d rather be playing music than making coffee. It’d be a bit shitty of me to deprive you of the chance. And clearly the crowd loves you.”
Wow. Could this man be any more amazing? I leap forward and give him a bear hug, him being the bear, of course.
“Thanks, Shaun. You’re awesome.”
He hugs me back, lifting me so the tips of my shoes are skimming the floorboards.
“You’re awesome too, Freddie.”
“I know.” And then, because I can now, I give his butt a playful squeeze.
By closing time, I’ve emailed off applications for two other jobs: a Christmas temp stacking shelves in a warehouse and a porter at a local hotel.
Both night shift, urgent start, no experience required.
Guess I can say goodbye to sleep if I get one of them, although with Shaun and I making it official, I wasn’t planning on getting much anyway.
At least it’s only temporary, and if it means knocking a year off my repayment plan, then so be it.
There’s a clunk from behind the counter as Shaun removes the cash drawer from the till.
“What are you going to do tonight?” he asks, counting up coins. “You’re welcome to stay at mine again, but you’ll need to go home eventually, you know. Might want to strike while the iron’s hot.”
“Aye, you’re probably right,” I admit. “I should just speak to—Rory?”
At the window, fogging up the glass as he stares inside like an angry bull, is my brother. What the hell is he doing here?
I stand up and he spots me, his nostrils flaring as he points and mouths the word “you!”
He turns heel and marches for the door. Fight or flight kicks in, only I can’t fight for shit and there’s nowhere to run. This place could really do with an escape hatch.
“Yeah,” says Shaun who’s too fixated on cashing up to notice we’re about to have an after-hours visitor. “I’m sure he’ll understand—”
The café door bursts open as Rory bulldozes his way inside.
“Freddie!” he booms.
There’s a clatter of coins as Shaun jumps a mile at the sudden intrusion.
“Excuse me, we’re—oh, it’s you.” Recognising him, Shaun looks between me and my brother like a referee at a boxing match. “Can I help you with something?”
Rory ignores him and clicks his fingers at me. “You. In the car. Now.”
Crap, what have I done now? I haven’t even been home for the last forty-something hours! Rory’s showing all the signs of a full reactor meltdown. Better get him out of here so Shaun doesn’t have to witness him going nuclear.
“That’s not a nice way to speak to your brother,” says Shaun.
The air turns to ice. Shaun’s voice is devastatingly calm, so much so that Rory doesn’t seem to know how to respond for a second. My brother’s face gets redder as he squares up to Shaun.
“This is our business.”
Shaun stands his ground. “You’ve made it my business. This is my café and he’s my employee. Even if you are family, I won’t let my staff be spoken to like that while they’re under this roof.”
Stretched to full height, Rory is still an inch or two shorter than Shaun. He’ll be furious about that.
“Has he told you what he did?” Rory spits.
I hang my head as the other night's wounds open up again.
“Yes,” says Shaun. “He feels terrible about it.”
“Yeah right!” Rory bites back. “Freddie’s never felt guilty about any of the crap he’s pulled.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Shaun beats me to it.
“Then you don’t know him like I do.”
Rory scoffs. “And you’ve known him for what, a fortnight?”
“Long enough to get a good judge of his character.”
Rory shakes his head. “Long enough for him to work his charms on you, more like.”
“Well, he is my boyfriend, so I guess you’re right about that.”
Oh crap. He said it. He brought the hammer all the way down. Rory looks between us for a few seconds, stunned. Then he laughs, a cold sound, too cruel even for him.
“Boyfriend?” Rory glares at me. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I say, even though I know what’s coming.
Rory rounds on Shaun again. “Sorry pal, but my brother doesn’t do boyfriends. He has one-night stands with drunk men who barge in and out of my house all hours of the night. Hate to tell you, but he’s using you.”
Rory’s words are like a punch to the gut. Using him? Is that what he thinks of me?
I look to Shaun, his face aghast.
“Shaun, I’m not! I swear I’m not!” My lip trembles and I fight to get the words out. “I wouldn’t be here if I was. I wouldn’t have come to yours! I wouldn’t have—”
“You've been with him all week? Fuck’s sake.” Rory points a finger at me. “You realise the first thing he told me when he flirted his way into this job was how he was going to try and sleep with you?”
“Rory, stop!” I raise my voice but it cracks like an eggshell. “Shaun, I promise, that’s not what—!”
“You’re a fool if you fell for my little brother, but you’re far from the first. Just don’t come banging at my door when he dumps you for someone new and shiny.” Rory steps back, jerking a thumb towards the door. “Freddie, we’re going. Now.”
“No,” I say in a small voice.
Rory’s eyes go the widest I’ve ever seen them. “I mean it, Freddie—”
“So do I. I don’t want to go with you.” It pains me to say it, but I can’t fathom why he’s acting like such a dick.
Rory’s neck turns purple. “Get. In. The car.”
A tiny question mark pops up in the back of my mind—something’s not adding up.
“Why are you here, Rory?” I ask.
He blinks at me. “I was looking for you, of course.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, ‘why?’” he snarls.
“I mean why are you looking for me? You didn’t text or call, you just showed up here.”
Rory seethes. “What the fuck does it matter, Freddie? I tried Sabre first to check you hadn’t drunk yourself to death with the money you owe me. They told me you were there Monday night then fucked off. You didn’t come home.”
“So what, you were worried about me?”
His masseters ripple like a lazy river as he clenches his teeth. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Because it sounds like you were—”
“Shut up, Freddie.”
I fold my arms in defiance, feeling braver with Shaun here.
“Look Rory, whether you want to believe it or not, I feel shit about what happened. Like, really shit. So yes, I went for a drink and I went to see my boyfriend,” I put extra emphasis on the word, “because I thought you might need space. Besides, you haven’t exactly made me feel welcome lately. Or ever.”
Bit harsh, but Rory doesn’t deal in uncertain terms. I see the fuses blowing in his brain and decide to drill my point home.
“Do you know what I’ve been doing all day?
I’ve been applying for shitty night shift jobs so I can pay you back faster because of how bad I feel.
” I take a risky step towards him. “And I get if you’re still angry at me—I’d be angry at me too—but don’t come into my work and insult the best man I’ve ever met just because you don’t have the emotional capacity to send a ‘when are you coming home?’ text! ”
Oof. That sounded amazing. I look at Shaun whose mouth is hanging open as his gaze flicks between me and Rory.
Rory’s lost for words, which is all the confirmation I need that I’ve hit the nail on the head. My stupid big brother was worried about me but didn’t know how to express it in a non-shouty manner. It’s about time he learned that’s a him problem.
I wait for his comeback, but it never arrives. His skin goes from a violent red to a bashful pink.
After a few painful moments, he says, “Next time, text me if you’re not coming home.”
I nod. “Fine.”
Rory tugs at his tie. It looks tight as a boa constrictor around his neck. He loosens it with a sigh and turns to Shaun, eyes down.
“Sorry. Bad day.” Rory makes for the door, stopping just in front of it and taking a glancing look around the café. “Nice place.”
“Uh, thanks,” Shaun says, but Rory’s already halfway out the door, tail between his impractically big thighs. He waddles off up the street and out of sight.
I exhale for what feels like the first time in five minutes and turn to look at Shaun. “Oh god, I’m so sorry about that!”
Shaun looks exhausted. “It’s okay.”
“All drama in here today, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
Shaun’s drumming his fingers on the counter erratically, not meeting my eye. Any chance he’s not thinking about what Rory just said about me? Time for more damage control.
I place both hands behind my neck, wincing as the knotted muscles pinch like crab claws. “Can I explain?"
Shaun nods.
“Okay. So yeah, I did used to have a lot of one-night stands. I can see why Rory thought I just wanted another notch on the bedpost. And sure, when I first saw you, I was attracted to you! I don’t think I exactly hid that, and maybe I did tell him I was gonna try and get with you, but that was just, you know, banter.
I’m sorry. I really do care about you Shaun.
I…” I swallow. This is moving way faster than normal, and yet it feels right.
Allons-y, I guess. “I feel more for you than I have for anyone. Ever. Like, it’s not even close. ”
I take a tentative step towards him, not wanting to overwhelm him further.
“I adore you, Shaun. Please believe me.”
Shaun’s fingers stop drumming and he meets my gaze with those gorgeous brown eyes.
“You said I was the best man you’ve ever met,” he says.
I nod, rapidly. “I meant it. I think you’re amazing, Shaun.”
His eyes turn dewy, his mouth pursing within his beard. “I don’t know if I can take another heartbreak this year, Freddie.”
Shit, shit, shit! I’m losing him. This isn’t how it’s meant to go! We can’t make it official and break up on the same day!
I leap forward and take his hand. “I swear I would never do that to you!”
“Maybe we’re moving too fast—”
“I promise you, Shaun! I’m serious about you.” An invisible puppet master takes control of my limbs, and I vault up onto the counter.
Shaun gasps. “Freddie, what are you—”
I place my hands on his shoulders and the final defences come tumbling down.
“I’m yours, Shaun Harrison. No one else’s.
Since I met you, you’re all I think about.
Your passion, your bravery, how you leap to my defence like a bloody German Shepherd without me even having to ask!
I’m still pinching myself that you think I’m good enough for you.
” I plant a soft kiss on his lips then pull back.
“You really think I’d be crazy enough to let you go?
Trust me, I would not be getting up at five a.m. for just anyone!
You’ve already given me more than you know and I’ll give you all I can in return.
” I lean in and kiss him again, then look him dead in the eye. “I will never hurt you.”
Shaun swallows, thickly. His lip quivers. Then, he gives a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.
“I believe you.”