22. Cassie
CASSIE
When I wake up, it takes me a second to remember where I am, until I hear soft laughter from outside the door.
I rub my eyes, careful not to disturb my lash lift that probably cost almost as much as the bed I’m sleeping on.
In the light, the room is very much designed for a teenage boy.
Light blue paint and soccer trophies displayed on a walnut shelf above the giant TV mounted to the opposite wall.
At least the bed is comfy. I snuggle further into the soft cotton, so unlike the silk sheets I sleep on every night so my stylist doesn’t murder me for the state of my hair.
I hear a patter of footsteps in the hallway and hear a hissed, “Ffion, calm down please,” followed by a high pitched giggle.
Nerves flutter in my belly. Robbie’s family are here.
What must they think of me? The hidden starlet hijacking a family party with no warning and no preparation.
Just as I’m about to fish my dead phone out of my handbag and call a car to pick me up, there’s a light tapping at the door, and Sian pokes her head in.
“Hiya,” she whispers. Her thick accent doubles the syllables. “Are you up yet?”
I nod, sitting up and accidentally letting the duvet slip to my waist. Hopefully Sian doesn’t notice that I’m wearing her son’s t-shirt.
I didn’t exactly have time to swing back to my hotel to grab my suitcase, so I’m working with a very limited wardrobe.
I debated just sleeping naked but my curiosity won out, and I ended up peeking through the top drawer and pulling out the first t-shirt I could find.
It was obviously clean and didn’t smell anything like Robbie, but it still made my nipples pebble as I slipped it over my body and climbed into his bed.
I clear my throat and send Sian a smile. “Just about.”
“I thought I’d just pop my head in and see if you’re hiding away in here.” Sian smiles kindly. “The little ones just arrived, and they don’t really know how to be quiet.”
“Do they…” I trail off uneasily. Do they know I’m here? Do they know I’m me?
“Well.” Sian stands further in the doorway, resting her hand on the frame. “They know Robbie brought a friend home, so Ffion is already pestering him half to death with questions but they don’t know you’re…” She waves her hand. “You.”
I smile. “I’ll be down in a second.”
“Alright, flower.”
As soon as the door closes behind her, panic descends.
I throw the covers off and fling myself out of bed and towards the minuscule mirror on the chest of drawers trying to see what I’m working with.
I can barely see my whole head at once, hovering the small blue mirror around my face like I’m trying to find cell signal.
Eventually, I give up and rummage through my bag for a hair clip, scraping my hair back into what I hope is a chic messy bun but will most likely look like a bird with a penchant for ginger hair has built a nest.
I take a deep breath. Why did I do this?
All I have with me is a handbag, a dead phone, a bunch of guitar picks, and a travel toothbrush I carry around for emergencies.
I don’t have any of my skincare or my shampoo, and I spent the night with my hair not in a protective style, and I just spoke to Robbie’s mother for the second time in his borrowed t-shirt.
I cover my eyes with my hands and take a few deep breaths. What the fuck am I doing?
I just need to get dressed and walk out the door, say a few polite hellos to the gathered crowd downstairs, and make a quick escape. I peek out of the blinds, trying to gauge how close I am to a main road and blink.
Green. Everything is green. The large trees opposite the window tower up into the blue sky, stretching for miles, and apart from the neighbors' houses dotted around the street, it feels private. Robbie’s car is still perched in the driveway, but now it’s joined by a blue SUV, presumably his brother’s.
I let the blind fall and take a deep breath against my rising panic.
I pull my jeans and baby tee back on. At the party, it was a cool, chic look. Faced with meeting a family with small children, I feel like an idiot. But, at least it’s not a skimpy dress and heels for my walk of shame.
It’s not a walk of shame, I remind myself, mentally steeling my spine. Nothing happened last night. Nothing.
I pull my phone out of my bag, tempted to turn it back on. If I do, I’m sure there’ll be many, many notifications, emails, and missed calls. If I don’t, there will still be just as many, but I won’t have to know about them. Schrodinger’s phone.
I slide it back into the inner pocket of my handbag, zipping it up as if it’s locked in an impenetrable safe.
I’ll go downstairs, drink a cup of coffee, make polite conversation and then come back up and call a car. Or maybe Robbie can call a cab for me, and then I won’t have to turn the phone back on at all.
I could probably check it just once. Just turn it on and off real quick.
As I reach across the bed for my bag, the door bangs open behind me, and I spin in place with a yelp.
A little boy, probably five years old, stands in the doorway, his hand still on the door handle and sandy blonde hair covering his eyes.
“Hello,” I say, straightening. “You surprised me.”
He blinks at me, cocking his head slightly before stepping over the threshold. I sit back on the mattress as I watch him. He hasn’t said a word, and he keeps his head turned as he crosses to the chest of drawers.
“I’m Cassie,” I tell him gently. “You must be Sammy?”
He ignores me as he tugs one of the drawers open. It’s a heavy old fashioned design, the dangling iron handles clanking as he lets it fall back against the wood and rises on his tiptoes to look inside.
“Are you looking for something?”
He nods and closes the drawer gently before pulling open the one underneath.
“Does your uncle know you’re in here?”
Sammy glances at me over his shoulder and shrugs.
I bite back my smile and cross to his side. “Maybe I can help you look.”
Should I be snooping around Robbie’s room? Probably not. Is this kid too cute to not not entertain for a minute longer? Absolutely.
I tug open the bottom drawer. It’s empty apart from a few towels and sheets. “How about in here?”
Sammy shakes his head, his hair flicking this way and that.
“Hmm,” I say, resting my hand on my hip. “It might help if I knew what I was looking for.”
He tilts his head, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Is it…” I glance around the room, looking for whatever this mystery item could possibly be. “A medal?” There are many to choose from, of course. Robbie was a hell of an overachiever.
He shakes his head.
“Is it…something you wear?”
No.
“Is it…something small?”
No.
“Is it…something big?
No.
“Is it…a ball?”
Now it just feels like I’m writing a nursery rhyme.
I follow as he crosses to the wardrobe door, and he tugs at the handle but there’s a plastic box on the floor in front blocking it.
“Hang on, buddy.” I slide the box across the floor so when he tugs again, it opens revealing a handful of coats and empty hangers. “Is it a vintage Barbour?”
Sammy tilts his head up and points to the top shelf.
“I don’t suppose you’ve come across a ladder in your search?”
He shakes his head and I swear the corners of his lips twitch
Giddy at the thought of getting this kid to show me a real smile, I sigh playfully. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”
I pull the box back closer to the wardrobe and test my weight on it briefly. It seems relatively sturdy, so I balance on one foot and hoist my upper body onto the shelf.
“Is there a reason you’re snooping through my wardrobe?” a voice drawls from behind me.
All at once, the box I hoped was sturdy starts to tilt and I’m free-falling from a considerable height.
My stomach swoops as I tip closer to the floor, but strong arms grab my waist. His hands almost encompass my waist, his fingers catching on the material and bunching it around my abdomen, his index fingers inches away from my bra.
Robbie slides me back to my feet, my back pressed to his chest and I tilt my head to him.
“I wasn’t snooping, I was helping…” I trail off as Sammy darts out the room. “He was looking for something.”
“Is that right?” Robbie asks, eyebrows raised and a grin playing at his lips.
I shove at him playfully before crossing my arms across my chest. “You’re the one with a penchant for closets.”
Robbie licks his lips, his eyes darkening. “If you wanted to snoop, you could have asked.”
I scoff and gesture to the wardrobe. “There’s barely anything in there of yours.”
“Oh, so you’ve already snooped.”
“Of course I did. With your nephew as chaperone.”
He nods, sticking his tongue in his cheek. “You need one?”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”
His hand is still on my waist. His thumb is now playing with the hem of my cropped tee. “I’d be a terrible chaperone, trouble.”
I’m frozen, locked in his heated stare as his thumb runs across the goosebumps spreading across my body.
“Rob,” a voice calls from the hall. “Did you find that pump?”
Robbie steps away from me, stretching up into the shelf I couldn’t reach, his back muscles flexing through his tight t-shirt as he grabs Sammy’s mystery item from its hiding place.
“You ready to come down now?”
I blow out a shaky breath.
I nod. I guess I’m doing this.