“Nish loves to sing. I’ve never had the heart to tell her she sounds terrible. Her enthusiasm is infectious though,” Ilaugh.
Climbing up the stairs to the lounge, we find Nisha in the kitchen with her back to us cooking, singing and dancing at the same time. I think it’s cute. Hudson looks utterly bemused and Calum is trying hard not to crack asmile.
“Nish, we’re back,” I say, but the music is so loud she doesn’t hear me. “NISHA!” Ishout.
She jumps, dropping the spatula she’s holding on the floor. Red sauce splatters across the whitetiles.
“Ah, shit!” she says, grabbing a cloth to wipe itup.
Hudson picks up the remote and turns the music down to a more reasonable level whilst Calum helps Nisha mop up themess.
“You’ve been busy,” Hudson remarks, noticing the kitchen sink is filled with pans andutensils.
“I thought I’d make us all dinner.Lasagne alla Nishawith garlic bread and salad on theside.”
“Where did you get all the ingredients to make it?” Calumasks.
“I went to the supermarket on the High Street, why? I just wanted to say thanks…” Her voice trails off at the look of consternation on Calum’sface.
“I told you not to leave thehouse.”
“It’s alright, I do know how to lock a front door. Jeez, I thought it’d be nice.” She looks at me and rolls her eyes. “What’s the big dealanyway?”
“I’d rather have accompanied you, that’s all,” Calum says, batting away her question. He exchanges looks with Hudson, who grabs the bottle of wine and corkscrew from the table. Uncorking it, he pours everyone aglass.
“There’s no big deal, Cal likes to be in control, that’s all,” Hudson says, winking at Calum and taking a sip of thewine.
Nisha scoffs. “Well, I don’t like to be controlled,” she says, glaring at Calum across the kitchenisland.
Calum raises an eyebrow. “That’s not the impression I get,” he says, not taking his eyes off her for a moment. Nisha’s mouth pops open, then closes again. The tension between them is ridiculous. Talk about lust at firstsight.
“Thank you, Nisha, for making us dinner. How long will it be?” Hudsonasks.
Nisha drags her eyes away from Calum, grabs a glass of wine and takes a large mouthful. “Another couple of hours, or so. I’ve still got stuff to prep before it goes into theoven.”
“Perfect, Max and Bryce should be home by then,” Hudson says, moving towards the seating area in the frontroom.
“Do you need any help?” I askher.
“I’ve got this,” Calum says, stepping forward. He rolls back his sleeves, revealing some very defined forearm muscles. I swear I hear Nisha squeak with excitement. He grabs an onion and starts peeling it. Nisha gives me one of her ‘oh my fucking god’ looks before squeezing past Calum and grabbing a dish from the cupboard. I swallow a laugh, then head over to Hudson and take a seat next to him on thecouch.
* * *
Around six,we hear the front door open. I am lying flat out on the sofa, my head in Hudson’s lap as he plays with my hair and chats football with Calum and Nisha, who are sitting opposite us both. Nisha is talking animatedly about her favourite team, which just so happens to be Calum’s too. Hudson is arguing the merits of one player versus another. I have no idea who he is talking about, football really isn’t my idea of fun. Lying here whilst Hudson runs his fingers through my hair, however, most definitely is. His hands are warm, his fingers firm as they massage my scalp. The sensation is simultaneously relaxing and a huge turnon.
“Well, look at you all chilling out, while the real men are out working all day,” Max says as he walks into theroom.
“There’s a beer in the fridge,” Hudson says. “Dinner’s in theoven.”
“What the fuck happened? You turned into a domestic goddess all of a sudden, Hud?” Bryce laughs, giving his head a playfulshove.
“That’d be Nisha,” Calum says. “She’s the goddesshere.”
I catch Nisha’s eye. She’s grinning from ear toear.
“Just something I threw together to say thanks,” shesays.
“Well, it’s appreciated,” Bryce responds, shrugging off his suit jacket. He collapses onto the sofa next to me, picks up my legs and rests them over his lap. I feel the firm warmth of his hand as he absentmindedly slides them up and down my shin. No one in the room seems to notice, or care, that I am being stroked by two incredibly hot men. In the kitchen, Max grabs himself a beer. I watch him as he gets out plates and cutlery. He looks content, happy, and in turn I feel the warmth of his happiness cover me like a blanket. Our eyes meet, and he mouths something. If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn he just professed his love forme.