November
PPOV
I watch Katniss from where I'm writing up today's specials on the menu board. She's talking to two of our regulars as she drops off their coffees.
Her hair is scraped up into a messy bun and the baggy wide neck top she's wearing has slipped from one shoulder to show the vest top she's wearing underneath. I know exactly how tightly it clings to her hidden curves, because I was the one that peeled it off of her last night. If we were alone right now I'd go up behind her, kiss the length of her slender neck and cup her through that skin-tight top. I'd press up against her ass and let her feel exactly how much I want her right now. She'd let out that sexy, throaty groan of hers - the one that gives me the sense of being in command, even though in reality she's the one making all the demands. I'd raise her hands and lower her leggings, then take her up against the wall or bent her over the top of one of the café's tables.
But we are not alone and no one here would guess that I kissed every inch of that lithe body last night, or that I'll be doing it again the very first chance I have. Especially as I don't know how many more chances I will get.
Hazelle is back at work; she's currently sat at a table with Delly folding napkins and catching up on gossip. It's her first week back and she's been taking it easy, only doing part-time hours, but she's hoping that within a couple of weeks she'll be back at work full-time. She feels bad for holding Katniss up. Katniss knows someone in Brisbane and they've offered her a job for their summer months. She plans on escaping the cold greyness of British winter and swapping it for the Australian sunshine. I can just see her on the beach in a barely there bikini, her skin bronzed like it was when she first came to work at the café. I can also picture the tanned Australian guys that will be hovering around her, trying to catch her eye.
I try not to think about her leaving. There is no point dwelling on the inevitable. Katniss has made no secret about her plans to travel again nor about the exact nature of our relationship, if you can even call it that. Sex would be a better description. It has become a fairly steady routine that after we close up on a Saturday night she comes back to mine, stays until mid-morning and then, when she heads home, I head to the gym before coming into the café to get started on Monday's menu. Sometimes Katniss comes back with me during the week but I think she finds the early hour I get up too hard. So usually I only see her once or twice a week, and the rest of the time I have no idea how she spends her nights, or who with. That is part of the unspoken, casual arrangement we have. No one knows about us, especially not here at work. We are not a couple. We are just hooking up, temporarily, whilst Katniss is filling in for Hazelle.
I figure I have about a month, a month and a half tops, before Katniss is out of here. So whilst I try not to think about her leaving, pathetically I have done a mental sum of the minimum and maximum number of times I'll get to spend the night with her before it's all over. I've told myself over and over again, until I almost believe it, that this relationship has been good for me. I feel different, more confident when I'm with Katniss and that will give me the courage to get back out there and date again. Hell, if a girl like Katniss can be interested in me, then why shouldn't I find someone else when she's gone? But the truth is, casual arrangement or not, I'm worried it's going to take me a long time to get over her and I'm pretty certain I don't stand a chance of finding anyone else that even remotely compares to her.
My chin juts up violently, the movement sending an involuntary jolt through my body and the letter 'd' I was forming becomes a messy line streaking up to the right.
I bounce on my toes, shake out my shoulders and hands, and roll my neck just as I do before I start punching and kicking at a hanging bag at the gym.
When I look up Katniss is watching me and she sends me a smile.
It's not her teasing smile, the one that's accompanied by a wicked glint in her eyes. Nor her side splitting one, as she laughs silently, beyond noise, at something she's found hilarious on TV. It isn't the lazy, beautiful smile she wears after sex, when the way she looks at me makes me feel incredible, and it's certainly not the polite, perfunctory smile she gives to customers. It's the smile she sends when I have an outburst but we're somewhere she can't run her calming hands up my arms and place a distracting kiss to my neck. It's the smile that says its ok, I shouldn't stress about drawing attention to myself and that I shouldn't care. The same thing I've been telling myself for years but that seems easier to believe when she says it.
I take a couple of deep breaths, then with a wet rag I remove the ruined 'd' and start writing again.
.~.
KPOV
"Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?" Aunty Hazelle asks for at least the hundredth time. She's got her coat on and she's been halfway out the door about six times but she still hasn't left. Whilst I know she means well, it's getting bloody annoying. I've been working here for weeks and, between her absence and Delly's midwife appointments, I've pretty much been running the café's front of house on my own.
"I'll be fine," I reassure Aunt Haze, forcing a smile onto my face. "You go home and put your feet up." My Aunt is adamant that she'll be back to work full time in a couple of weeks but, as much as she tried to hide it, she looked exhausted during the lunchtime rush today. I think she's seriously underestimating how long it's going to take her to get back to full strength.
"Well if you're sure? I'll see you tomorrow then," Aunty Hazelle responds, still sounding hesitant. I return her parting wave as cheerily as I can, hopefully hiding my relief that she's finally going.
I've given all the tables a damn good wipe down, refilled the salt, pepper and sugar on each table, run the dishwasher, scrubbed down the coffee machine and done a stock take on the consumables that we use behind the bar by the time Delly returns from her regular midwife session.
It's obvious as soon as she walks through the door that she is not ok.
"Delly what's the matter, is…" Shit do I really want to ask this? "Is the baby alright?"
She nods with an uncharacteristically unladylike sniff, as she sinks down in a chair at an empty table.
"It's just…" she sniffs again, as I join her at the table. "I just realised that I'm having a baby."
I raise my eyebrows at her in a "really" fashion and she quickly elaborates. "I just realised that I'm having this baby and I won't be there for it. I always planned on coming back to work after about six weeks, but," she gives a full on sob, "I don't want to."
I hand her a folded napkin from the table and she loudly blows her nose. "But this place is my baby too, you know," she continues. "Peeta and I, we started it from nothing. I mean I always knew that it would be a success because, well you've tasted his food. But it was so much work to get this place off the ground and I don't want to leave it." She takes a deep breath. "I love your aunt, I really do. Hazelle is great, the customers love her, but…well she… she doesn't understand what it takes to run this place the way I do…the way you do."
She's looking at me now, expectantly, with these great big, deep soulful eyes like some sorrowful bloody cow or something. "If I knew you were going to be here, looking after things, taking my place I'd feel like I could really relax, that I could enjoy the time I want at home, with my baby." She sniffs again and a few fat tears roll down her cheeks. "I just don't want to be a terrible mother."
God, what am I supposed to say to that? No? Screw you I have plans, and your kid will just have to learn to love nursery like all the other babies?
I take a deep breath and nod. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yes, Okay." Jeez don't push your luck bitch! I've said yes don't make me change my mind. But as Peeta comes out of the kitchen carrying a tray of pastries in preparation for the after school and after work crowd, I know that I won't.
Damn he looks good. I know it's awful but sometimes I'm glad he has Tourette's. There were a group of women in earlier, far too old to be drooling over him like they were, but it made me realise that if Peeta didn't have Tourette's he wouldn't have time to spend with me. He would have been snatched up by someone else ages ago. Selfishly, I feel lucky that every other girl he's dated has been too shallow too see past his condition. I don't know why they found it so difficult, sometimes I almost forget about it. Sure he blurts things out, but they just roll of me like water off a duck's back, I swear like a fucking trooper myself so why should I care if he lets rip with a few choice expletives every now and then? Anyway most of the time his Tourette's manifests itself as the involuntary nodding of his head, like he's trying to swallow something difficult, that I've become so accustomed to I'm practically oblivious to it.
"It won't be forever, obviously, but if we could just make a solid arrangement for at least three months after the birth that would be fabulous," Delly gushes excitedly and I realise that whilst I've been ogling Peeta she's still been talking. "So I can tell Peeta?" she queries. "That you've agreed to stay on until after Easter?"
Easter! I'm pretty sure Easter next year is at the end of April, it's currently only mid-November, Easter is way more than three months away. 'Uh yeah, sure. That's fine," I tell her, my attention still divided between her and Peeta. The material of his white t-shirt is stretched taut across his shoulders as he pushes the kitchen door open. "You can head home if you like, I'll let Peeta know," I tell her.
"I should really tell Peeta myself," she says, but without much conviction. "But I would like to talk to Thom and let him know the news. So if you're sure?" Her words might sound like she's torn but the beaming smile on her face says she's already made up her mind up to go home. "You're a real keeper you know that don't you? Are you sure you won't consider staying here full time?"
"Um, I'll think about it," I mumble absent-mindedly.
Delly goes home immediately after our conversation and the afternoon is pretty quiet except for a rush on takeaway coffees five minutes before we are due to close at 6 o'clock. Rory is long gone, and truthfully I could have left about half an hour ago but I'm still here.
Peeta is just taking off his apron and hanging it on the hook when I walk into the kitchen.
"Peeta." He looks up at his name with a started expression, as if he didn't hear my approach. "I uh… I need to talk to you about something." Shit why do I feel nervous about this? He's the one getting the good deal here right? He's going to be happy I'm staying longer, isn't he? But he doesn't look happy right now.
"I …I spoke to Delly earlier and she asked me to…well she's worried about the baby…"
"Is everything okay," he asks with alarm.
"God, yes, yes," I quickly reassure him. "Its nothing bad, she's worried about not spending enough time at home with the baby. She asked me if I could work here longer."
He makes an unexpectedly pained noise. "Its okay," he groans, 'I'll talk to her. I'll explain that you have plans. Delly means well, she can just be a bit intense, especially about the baby. But I'll let her know you can't…"
"I already agreed."
"You did?" He looks like I just knocked the air out of him. It wasn't exactly the reaction I was expecting.
"I just uh…look if it's going to be awkward… I know that you didn't expect me to stay this long so…I could just…um," I stumble over my words with an uncomfortable uncertainly. Fuck what is wrong with me? This is the exact reason I don't get involved with guys - no responsibility, no care, certainly no anxiety. "So if you don't want to continue with our…um," what shall I call it, "our um…arrangement."
His eyes screw shut, almost painfully so, as he blinks. "I…I…Katniss, I don't want you to…"
Shit! My stomach drops like a stone. I was right to be apprehensive after all, but I'm surprised by how much it hurts, much more than just a sting of pride. I take a step back, as if putting some distance between us will help. He looks alarmed, suddenly seizes me by the waist and then he kisses me. Kisses me until there is no question of mixed messages, only the realisation that I misunderstood.
When we come up for air I ask, "So does that mean…?"
"I want to continue?" he finishes. He grins then kisses me again in answer.
Just as I was shocked by how much his perceived rejection hurt, I'm surprised by the rush of relief I feel.
"I just didn't want you to feel it was expected." He blinks and nods. "To feel …um…obligated."
I shake my head, certain obligation is the last thing on my mind. "If you're finished up here why don't you take me home?" I suggest.
Peeta looks surprised by my suggestion. He mumbles something about it not being Saturday, so that I wonder if I've said the wrong thing until he kisses me with such intensity that when he breaks away I'm left blushing like I'm in the throws of my first teenage crush.
"Come on," I say, trying not to appear as self-conscious as this whole situation is inexplicably making me feel, "lets go home."
So I suddenly realised this was the only November chapter so I really don't have any need to update again until December! I guess I could be convinced to update sooner if I thought there were people out there reading but I'm pretty sure there are only 10 of you! (5 chapters and 50 reviews)
I'd love to hear what you thought of the story - one word reviews completely accepted! Getting some feedback from you readers really is the only way I can tell if someone is out there reading and enjoying it or not. So I would really really appreciate it.
So if you've enjoyed the story so far please leave a short review.
Thank you for reading.
D
