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Take a Breath(12)

By:Jaimie Roberts






Chapter 6





I was out so long that by the time I got back to the house it was already past seven. I walk in the door putting my keys down on the display table and my bag to one side. The smell of Chinese food greats me as I follow it into the kitchen.

“There you are. I text you. Didn’t you get my message?” Jake is sitting at the table eagerly awaiting my presence.

“Sorry, no. I must have been driving when you sent it. I always have the radio on when I drive.”

He hands me a pair of chopsticks and pulls out some little boxes from the plastic bag in front of me.

“Please, sit. I got you your favourite, Chicken in Curry Sauce. I hope that’s okay?”

My tummy growls at me again in protest.

“No, that’s great. Thank you.”

We sit for a while savouring our dinners. I’m feeling happy today for once. I know being with Jake is like torture, but I feel comfortable like this with him. He always did have that presence about him.

“By the way, I fixed the shower for you. It was a faulty valve. It didn’t take long to do so your showers should be better from now on.”

With a mouthful of chicken I try my best to say thank you. We smile at one another and my heart melts. I’d give anything to jump on his bones right now.

“Fancy a drink at the bar?” he asks, surprising me.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I reply.

We finish off our food and clear away all the containers, before making our way around past the dining table we never use. The only time we have was on Christmas day last year. That was the first Christmas I had ever felt part of a family. Jake makes his way around the bar and I sit perched up high on one of his stools. He grabs a glass and dish cloth and starts pretending to dry it.

“So what will the lady be having this evening?” Jake asks.

I start laughing and my laughter sets him off.

“I don’t know, surprise me please, barman.”

He smiles and brings out a bottle of tequila from the cabinet below and sets down ten shot glasses. I look up at him eyebrow raised.

“I think we should play a game. It’s called, favourite things.”

My raised eyebrow turns into a frown. “What does that entail then?” I ask.

He pours the liquid into the glasses and sets the bottle down.

“Well, we ask each other what a certain favourite thing is and if we don’t like the answer, you have to take a shot.”

I’ve never heard of this one before but it sounds like fun.

“Right then, hit me with it, bartender.”

He hovers over me on the other side of the bar setting his hands against the sides.

“What is your favourite cheese?”

I start laughing, “Seriously, cheese?”

“Yes, come on, what is it?”

I think for a moment and can only think of one cheese I like to eat regularly.

“I like a mature cheddar.” I love other mature things, but that’s something I’m not going into with Jake right now.

“Cheddar cheese, that’s your answer?”

I nod my head.

“That’s crap, take a shot.”

I gasp at his rudeness but he’s smiling away at me.

“Crap, what do you mean crap? Cheddars very nice I’ll have you know. There’s nothing like a good ole’ English mature cheddar.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “You could have said a fine Stilton, or a great French Brie, not Cheddar. It doesn’t sound very interesting.”

“Well, it’s what I like and I’m not making it up when it’s the truth.”

I nod my head once in defiance and pick the shot glass up before knocking it back. The burn is there straight away.

“Shit, this is strong.” I barely manage to get the words out my throat is so hot.

“Hey, language,” he said, abruptly.

I look sheepishly at him. “Sorry. My turn now. What was your favourite toy when growing up?”

He smiles triumphantly and I’m suddenly dying to wipe that grin off his face.

“Well, that’s easy, Ana. When I was five, my grandmother bought me an action man toy. It was my favourite toy in the whole world and it became more sentimental to me when she died a few days later. I still have it to this day as a reminder of her.”

I hated Jake now. Why did he have to pull that story on me?

“This is unfair you know.”

He starts laughing and claps his hands.

“I didn’t say I would make it easy for you. My turn.”

I sit there patiently waiting trying to think of a good question to come up with so I can beat him after.

“Right, what is your favourite food?”

You’ve got to be kidding me. Why doesn’t he ask what my favourite book is or my favourite hobby? Not these silly questions.