The morning after he'd taken her home, Randall appeared at her door with coffee, bagels and a tube of anti-inflammatory gel, which he'd instructed her to apply three times a day to her legs alongside pain killers and bed rest. Bela didn't need to be told twice - she happily spent the next 24 hours in bed, only moving to visit the bathroom and fetch snacks.
Though she'd slept well in Hamish's room, she could barely keep her eyes open once she got home.
She still couldn't remember what had happened, but Randall had assured her that this was a totally normal side-effect of some sedatives, and she'd feel better after sleep.
And he was right. On Sunday morning Bela had woken with a clear head and a spring - well, maybe a hop - in her step. While the rest, cold compresses and pain relief had considerably lessened her discomfort, the bruises had yet to fade.
With a renewed sense of purpose she took a shower, pulled on her comfiest leggings and fired off a quick text to Randall before heading to the laundry room.
- - - - -As Bela climbed the stairs to the penthouse hallway she looked around, trying to distract herself from the dull throbbing in her legs. There was no denying that the building was beautiful; lovingly restored exposed brick clad the walls of the stairwell, accented by a highly polished brass bannister, industrial light fittings and a buffed hardwood floor that looked suspiciously like an original feature.
An apartment here must cost more than what Hamish made in a year. Bela was beginning to suspect that the tall blonde had more disposable income than most of the other TAs she knew at Belgrave.
The only thing that the deluxe block was missing, she thought, was an elevator.
She huffed in relief as she finally came face-to-face with the slick, black penthouse door. She took a moment to catch her breath and then rapped twice.
After a few minutes a sleepy figure dressed in a casual navy button-down, appeared from behind the door.
"Bela?" Hamish's eyebrows arched in surprise as he looked at the woman on his doorstep. "I thought you were resting?… I mean… Hello." His eyes crinkled slightly as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.
The corner of Bela's mouth lifted in a small smile as she raised her eyes to catch his. "I'm fine, promise. Sorry if I woke you, I messaged Randall for your address - I hope that's ok? I just wanted to say thank you for letting me borrow these." She held out a stack of freshly-washed clothes towards him. "And for everything else - you know, you kind of saved me".
Hamish flushed slightly. "I don't know about that" he shrugged, "I'm sure you would have done the same for a friend."
He reached out to grab the bundle, brushing his warm fingers against Bela's wrist.
"Ah - right." Bela pulled her arm back abruptly. She suddenly felt self-conscious. Friend. Of course Hamish was just being polite, as always. Their date plans had been ruined twice now and after the situation the other night he was probably starting to regret asking her out in the first place.
Hamish frowned as a small crease appeared between her brows.
"Yeah," she began, "of course. Thanks anyway though, I really appreciate it." She produced a clear bottle from her bag and thrust it towards him. "Just, as a thank you - taking care of someone isn't much fun on a night out. Let me know if I can do anything, I owe you a favour now!"
Hamish barely had time to drop the clothes and grab the vodka before she turned away from the door and bolted down the hallway. He stood frozen for a moment before he rushed after her. By the time he reached Bela she had already travelled down one set of stairs - a surprising distance for someone who was still visibly struggling to move comfortably.
"Wait! Bels - wait a minute."
She didn't stop until his hand closed around her elbow. He wanted to tell her how he felt, how angry and guilty he was that she had been threatened because of him and how glad he was that she was ok - more than glad, but when she spun around her expression caught him off-guard. She lifted her head defiantly, cheeks burning.
His words died under her steady gaze.
Instead, Hamish raised the bottle. "You can't expect me to drink this on my own?"
- - - - -"Liquid Lust" Bela declared with a flourish, handing him a sunset-hued beverage.
Hamish took a sip and sighed in appreciation "It's fruity." He took a second sip, "...and strong".
Bela grinned. "That's the tequila. I can't believe you had hibiscus tea and syrup in your bar, what are the chances?".
"A well-stocked bar, is one of life's essentials." Hamish smiled back at her from over the rim of his glass. Hours had passed since Bela had turned up at his door. Comfortable conversation over an afternoon drink had morphed gradually into a cocktail-making competition, though Hamish couldn't say when exactly they'd moved from one to the other, or who was winning.
They'd started with a Cupid's Arrow, which led to a round of blackberry Potion d'Amours, then on to a pink-tinted Queen of Hearts and finally, the rather interestingly-named, Between the Sheets. Things were starting to get a little blurry around the edges.
Now they were both sprawled across Hamish's large leather sofa, Bela's legs outstretched, her feet resting in his lap.
"Your turn." Bela prompted, waving her empty glass.
Hamish reluctantly dislodged her and made his way to the open-shelved bar that took up a large portion of the wall in his loft space. He ducked behind the countertop and reappeared after a few minutes with two tall glasses.
"Sex on the Beach." he said with a wry smile.
Bela's eyes widened slightly and then she burst out laughing. "Wait -" she said, setting the glass down on the nearby coffee table before walking to the bar. She emerged moments later with two smaller glasses. "We should drink these first then," she said with a wink, "best not to rush things".
She handed him a smaller glass topped with whipped cream. "It's a shot." Hamish felt heat creep up his neck as he recognised the layers of amaretto, coffee liqueur and irish cream. "Yes… a Blow Job shot".
Bela snorted. "Take it you've had one before then?"
The sound that came out of Hamish's throat was something close to a growl. He threw the shot back and chased it with his cocktail.
"Bottoms up," he gestured to her to finish her drinks before heading back to the bar.
Two can play at this game, he thought darkley.
On some level Hamish acknowledged that his judgement was impaired. Logically he knew his reaction to Bela being in danger, the way he'd lost control, wasn't normal, but when he was around her he couldn't find it in himself to worry about it. She made him feel good for the first time in longer than he cared to remember and he deserved to feel good, didn't he?
He set down a tumbler filled with clear liquid.
"Don't tell me we're switching to water?" Bela looked a little disappointed.
"No," Hamish smirked "Vodka, rosemary syrup and lemon juice, also known as a Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down".
It was Bela's turn to blush.
- - - - -"Huh?" Hamish raised his head from the sofa to look over to the bar, where Bela's head was just visible.
"I said, do you have cola?" she asked, looking through the various bottles, jars and garnishes in the bar's mini fridge.
Hamish pulled himself to his feet and went to retrieve a bottle from the kitchen. "Here." He held it out to her as he joined her behind the bar.
"Of course it was in your actual fridge, not your special cocktail fridge," she said, nudging him in the side playfully.
Hamish tried not to focus on the warm tingle that spread through his midriff when she made contact. He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling the vanilla and cinnamon scent from her shampoo as she leaned across him to add a generous splash of cola to the glasses in front of him.
Thanks to his heightened senses her smell was one of the first things he'd noticed about Bela when he met her - warm and rich like freshly-baked pastries. He almost wished she hadn't washed his clothes before returning them.
"Soulmate?"
His eyes shot open. "Yes… uh." He faltered, uncharacteristically. "Sorry, what?"
She shot him a questioning look, "It's a Soulmate." She gestured to the glasses on the counter, "Rum, cherries, cola. Hey, are you ok Haim? Do you want water instead?".
Hamish shook his head, "No, I'm ok - I can handle my alcohol".
"Of course you can, Profess- ah!".
He caught her as she tripped, pulling her close to his chest to support her weight before she hit the floor. The heat of her body, pressed flush against his, soaked through the thin layers of cotton separating them and spread through him, an instant warmth that sparked what felt like a million minuscule explosions across every cell in his body.
They both hesitated for a moment before Bela took a shallow breath and pulled herself off him. Through a cloud of embarrassment she dimly registered how Hamish's hand lingered on the small of her back and how shaken he looked as he reluctantly stepped away.
"There you go, saving me again." She glanced up at him and then frowned, turning to the mess on the counter. "Our drinks weren't so lucky".
He recovered quickly, producing a stack of cocktail napkins from a nearby draw, which he used to dab the pools of liquid. A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth.
"It's fine, I'll get us a refill - do you think you can make it to the sofa without injuring yourself?"
Bela rolled her eyes, "I'm not always this clumsy you know, maybe i'm the one who can't hold my drink."
"Ok" Hamish nodded firmly, as he busied himself clearing up the mess and adding ingredients to a fresh set of glasses. "Well, this will be our last one then."
Bela mentally kicked herself as she carefully picked her way back to the living area. The last thing she wanted right now was for the evening to end. She was enjoying seeing the normally buttoned-up Hamish let loose a little, but even in this state he was too much of a gentleman to let her drink too much. Still, flirty-tipsy Hamish might just be her new favourite drinking companion - and she couldn't deny how good it felt to have his arms wrapped around her when he caught her.
His thin shirt had done little to hide the broad, muscular outline of his shoulders when he pulled her to him, and even distracted by her own clumsiness, she found herself wanting to run her hands across those shoulders and down his back.
Caught in her own thoughts, she barely noticed that she had been staring at him, watching the shape of his arms, shoulders and chest, until he cleared his throat, snapping her out of her haze, and handed over her final drink.
She took it, and quickly swallowed a sip to hide her embarrassment. "Apple juice, gin and... lemon?" she guessed, swirling remnants of the sweet, sharp liquid around her mouth.
"Impressive." Hamish sat down and leaned towards her, his eyes deep pools. "I call it Dutch Courage."
"Oh, really?" Bela placed her glass down. Her heart beat faster as she leaned towards Hamish, noting with interest when his cheeks flushed and he edged closer, as if he could hear the steady thrumming in her chest. His eyes flicked down as she licked a trace of lemony sweetness from her lips. "And what are we going to do with our Dutch Courage, Haim?"
Hamish growled lightly under his breath. "To hell with it," he whispered, before leaning forward suddenly, capturing her lips in a kiss.