Chapter 3
THREE
HOLLY
Legs stretched out before me on the footstool with my fluffy slippers in pride of place, I snuggle down into the soft oversized cushions on the couch. Ashley is beside me in her cat-print pyjamas, and the remainder of the failed cake sits on the coffee table between us.
Like many things in the world, it’s a mess on the outside, but unlike my life, inside, it’s perfect. Well, it’s not exactly what I had planned when I was combining recipes, and we had to cut around the dense, almost uncooked parts in the centre. Even so, the rest of it tastes like a dream.
Ashley and I always used to spend a lot of time together, but ever since I’ve been on my own, she spends a lot more time with me here in my flat above the bakery.
She says it’s because she didn’t like my ex so she kept away, and in part I know that’s true.
However, I know she worries about me and this way she’s able to keep an eye on me.
We’re watching some drama on the TV, but I’m not really paying attention so I don’t have a clue what’s actually happening.
Popping another bit of cake into my mouth, I hum with happiness.
Below us, the bakery is closed to the public, but the staff will still be busy baking for the following day.
The sound of metal pans and the gentle hum of chatter reach us through the floorboards.
When I first moved into the flat above the shop, it took me ages to adapt to the sounds below me.
The life of a baker involves lots of late nights and early starts, so I would be woken by the sound of the ovens being fired up.
However, now those sounds are so normal to me that they’re like a lullaby.
The Holly and Ivy Bakery is the corner building in a row of shops on the main street of Hinton Grove, so the hustle and bustle of the other businesses and traffic outside the windows are all part of living above the bakery.
However, I love it and wouldn’t change any part of it.
“Did you hear that Mr Renolds is selling up?” I ask, referring to my neighbour in the shop next door.
His DIY store has been around for decades, remaining in his family for generations.
However, after his son died tragically in a car accident, there is no one left for him to pass his business onto.
Now, there are too many memories for him here, so he’s retiring and moving elsewhere to start afresh.
“Yes.” She pauses for dramatic flair. “Did you know he found a buyer?”
This gets my attention. Jerking up, I twist around to face her. “No. What do you know?” I demand, pleased that there’s some gossip that doesn’t involve me for once.
Ashley grins, her pleasure at knowing something before me lighting her eyes. “Apparently a group of young men from the city are buying the business. Some hotshots, apparently. It’s causing a stir amongst the locals.”
Yeah, I can only imagine. Hinton Grove is a small town and news travels quickly.
The fact that city folk are moving here and taking over an old family business is going to make waves.
The store a small, local shop; it’s one of those treasure troves that sells everything.
Once it’s taken over by some business mogul, they’re bound to change it.
Will it even remain as a DIY store, or will they try to turn it into one of those fancy coffee bars where it costs you ￡8 for a coffee?
Brows raised, I nurse my mug in my hands. “How is it you knew this before me when the store is right next door to my bakery?”
“Ah,” she grins, looking smug as she takes a sip of her hot chocolate. “I have all the connections; you just work all the time.” This seems to trigger a thought and she shifts forward, attention locked onto me. “Speaking of which, when are you going to start dating?”
My groan is long and loud, my head dropping back onto the sofa behind me.
This isn’t the first time she’s badgered me about this, and I don’t have the energy to fight her on it.
Thinking about my ex hurts. Thinking about the future that was taken from me hurts.
It is a constant effort for me to get up each morning and pretend to be a functioning adult; the last thing I want to do is go out on a date.
“You can’t be a hermit and pine over him forever.” Ashley continues, shaking my shoulder to get my attention. “It’s not good for you, and he’s not coming back.”
He’s not, I know that. Even if he did come back and beg me to be with him, I have enough self-respect not to cave.
He shattered me when he left and I’m still learning how to put myself back together again.
I miss him and the future I’d imagined for us together, and I’m allowed to mourn that and despise him for what he’s done at the same time, without wanting to take him back.
If only I could toughen up on the inside and patch myself back together a little quicker, that would be great.
“I thought he was my forever, Ash.” Lifting my head from the back of the sofa, I meet her gaze. “It’s not easy to just get over that hurt.”
“I know, babe.” Her voice is soft now, comforting as she puts down her drink and pulls me in for a hug.
“I’m not criticising you, but you’re stuck in this rut he dug for you.
” Stroking my back, she rests her cheek on the top of my head.
“I’m not saying that you have to find your soulmate.
I’m simply suggesting that you come out and have a few drinks, flirt a little and start to live your life again. ”
Her familiar jasmine perfume surrounds me as I lean into her hug, needing the comfort more than I care to admit. One of the things I love about Ashley is that she knows when I need her without me having to say anything.
I mull over her words and have to acknowledge that she’s right. I need to reclaim my life and not let him hold me back any further.
“Okay,” I begrudgingly agree. Pulling back from her embrace, I hold up a finger in warning. “I’ll come out with you at the weekend, but it’s a casual thing.”
“Casual, of course! Oh, Hol, we’re going to have such a good time!”
Why did I ever think this was going to be a good idea?
Music pulses through the club, the bass so loud that it vibrates in my ears, the words of the song drowned out by the shouting of the patrons.
The dancefloor is writhing with bodies and I hover at the edge, shuffling from foot to foot and doing my finest T-Rex impression with my arms close to my chest.
Ashley is having the time of her life, her body moving to the music in ways I didn’t think possible.
When did she get so flexible? The effort to keep the smile on my face is getting harder, but I force myself to keep it there.
Ashley looks so happy and the look on her face when I’d agreed to come tonight makes all of this worth it.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
She’s trying so hard to make this a fun experience for me and I feel awful that I’m not enjoying this. When I went over to her apartment to get ready with her, it felt like I was a teenager all over again, trying on outfits for each other.
My cute white top with smart jeans had quickly been vetoed and I was dragged into her closet for a makeover.
Ashley is tall and slim like a model and the little black dress she’s wearing clings to her figure like a second skin.
The cap sleeves and sweetheart neckline show off her perky breasts in a way I could never get away with.
Cinching in her waist, the dress then flares over her hips, glimmering slightly in the blue and purple lights of the club.
Finding something of hers that would fit my shorter, curvier frame was always going to be difficult.
Finally, it had been decided that I would wear a silver sequined playsuit.
It ends midthigh, which on Ash would be showing a lot more skin but works perfectly for me.
The V-neck just about covers my large boobs with a bit of creative placement – thank God for safety pins – and a belt around the middle pulls it in to show off my hourglass figure.
Sleeves billow around my arms, cinching in around my wrists with a cuff.
Honestly, when I’d looked at myself in the mirror, it was like I was seeing someone else, and even I had to admit that I looked good.
However, now we’re out in public and surrounded by strangers, I find myself pulling at the playsuit, wishing for more coverage.
It feels like everyone is watching me, although I’m sure they’re not.
However, as I shuffle about, the feeling doesn’t go away. Following my hunch, I glance over my shoulder and I see that I was right: someone is watching me. He’s gorgeous in a dark, damaged way.
He wears jeans and a dark band T-shirt, although I can’t quite make out which band from here.
I don’t understand how guys can look so good in something so simple.
Throw on a T-shirt and have girls drooling over you, whereas it took me hours to get to the point where I was presentable.
I had pastry in my hair for soufflé’s sake!
I feel even more self-conscious in my jumpsuit now, as though I’ve spent far too much time on my appearance.
Not to mention his laser focus on me, so obviously checking me out.
Why did I bother to go through all this effort when I’m not here for anything but to support Ashley?
Subconsciously, was I trying to make myself feel good by dressing up?
Probably. It reminded me of the old Holly, before my relationship with Jason had become so controlling.
I am not here for love, flirting or anything in-between.
However, I can’t deny that a part of me finds the attention flattering.
Sometimes I think that the old me is still buried somewhere deep down within, peaking through the wreckage Jake left behind.
She would have loved this, would have glowed under the admiration of someone like him.