Never Forget Him: Never Forget #1

by Lorraine, Tracy

  “Oh no you don’t,” he says. I expect to find him out of bed when I look up, so I’m surprised to I see him still sat there with the covers over his waist. “Never be embarrassed by looking that incredible.”

  Heat races up my neck and I feel my face flush red. I manage to break from his gaze and rush to get into bed. The way he’s looking at me right now scares and excites me in equal measures.

  I lie myself down on my side and pull the covers up to my neck before looking over at him. He’s still sat exactly as he was, and staring where I was stood.

  “Are you okay?” I ask after a few minutes when he still hasn’t moved or said anything.

  “I’m not sure,” he answers honestly.

  “I…uh…can go,” I offer, thinking he doesn’t want me here.

  “Trust me, Skittles, that’s the last thing I want right now.”

  “Okay then,” I whisper because the emotion in his voice just then knocked me for six.

  “Goodnight, Skittles.”

  “Goodnight, Bax.”

  Chapter Three

  I wake to the weirdest sound. I lie there for a few seconds, firstly trying to remember where the hell I am, and then secondly to work out what it is that’s woken me. As soon as I open my eyes, it’s obvious. Bax is at the foot of our beds doing sit-ups, and the noise is his exhale every time he does a crunch. I grab my glasses silently and shift myself so I have a better view. I watch with delight as he continues. His muscles flex in the most delicious way. I lose count after fifty, but eventually he turns over and starts doing push-ups. I almost groan at the sight of his firm arse clad in only his white boxer briefs. Every woman should get to wake up to this every morning.

  I stay still and watch every single push up, taking note of the straining muscles in his thick arms each time he drops to the floor. The longer I watch him, the more my sleepy body wakes up. My heart is pounding, and I’m dying to fling the covers off me, but that means telling him I’m awake and watching, so I lie here suffering. It’s totally worth it.

  After an insane number of push-ups, he jumps to his feet. He’s got his back to me but the second he raises his eyes to the mirror in front of him, they stare directly into mine. I see them widen slightly in surprise before they darken. We’re both frozen, staring at each other for a few minutes. I’m not sure if that means he’s pissed off that I was watching him.

  Eventually, he turns. I’m desperate to run my eyes over his body again but the intensity in his keeps mine held hostage. In seconds, he’s inches from my face, hovering above me.

  “You need to be careful what you wish for, Skittles,” he warns, his voice deeper than it was last night.

  “I…I didn’t,” I stutter.

  “I told myself I wouldn’t do anything until you were begging for it, but you’re making it really fucking hard to keep that promise.”

  I swallow, but my suddenly dry mouth makes it a challenge. Does he mean…?

  My thoughts are cut off when his lips brush mine. It’s a kiss like the first one we shared last night. There’s no movement, but it feels like there’s a promise in it.

  His lips are gone as quickly as they appeared, and when my eyes focus, he’s walking away from me. I only get a quick glimpse of his arse before he disappears around the corner and into the bathroom.

  I stay where I am, listening to the sound of running water and imagining how his body would look wet and glistening.

  When he emerges I get a shot of exactly what that’s like because he’s still wet with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

  “I thought you would’ve gone back to sleep,” he says when he sees me still awake.

  “It’s fine, I don’t sleep much,” I admit. I’ve always been a bit of an insomniac but since things with Mum and the shop have been getting worse, so has my sleeping.

  “We’ve only had two hours,” he says, sitting on the edge of his bed.

  Okay, I do usually manage a little more than that. “You shouldn’t have woken me up with all that huffing and puffing then,” I say with a smile.

  “I can assure you, I was not huffing or puffing.”

  “Okay then, army man, whatever you say.”

  Bax narrows his eyes at my piss taking but he doesn’t say anything about it. “I was going to find some coffee. Would you like one?”

  “There’s stuff over there,” I say, pointing to the little kettle.

  “Knock yourself out, but I want real coffee.”

  “Real coffee would be good, now you mention it.”

  I watch in amazement as Bax stands, turns his back to me, and drops the towel. I cough to cover my groan but from the movement I see in his shoulders, I don’t think I do a very good job. Once his jeans are on, he turns back towards me.

  “I’m gonna need my shirt.”

  “Uh…hang on,” I say, diving under the covers.

  I squirm around and manage to get his shirt off before I poke my head out, followed by my arm, and hand it over. My other hand keeps the covers pulled up to my neck, although it doesn’t seem to matter because the way Bax is staring at the duvet, you’d think it was see through.

  “Thank you,” he mutters before pulling it over his head. “Motherfucker.”

  “What?”

  “It smells like you.”

  “Sorry,” I whisper, feeling embarrassed.

  “Don’t be. It just means I’m even less likely to be able to get the image of you wearing it out of my head.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll make sure I’m gone for twenty minutes to give you time to get dressed and shit.”

  “Get dressed and shit?” I repeat with a smile.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know what girly shit you might need to do,” he admits.

  “Okay, well…thank you.”

  Seconds later, he’s gone and I’m left alone in this dingy hotel room, questioning my sanity once again. I try to put my thoughts to one side as I rush into the bathroom to shower and dress before he gets back.

  * * *

  “Skittles, are you decent?” Bax shouts through the crack in the door exactly twenty minutes later.

  “Yes,” I answer with a laugh.

  “Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, making me laugh even more. “Here, I made an educated guess,” he says, handing me a Costa cup and McDonald’s bag. The smell makes my stomach grumble.

  “McDonald’s coffee not good enough for you either?” I ask with amusement, looking at what’s in my hands.

  “No,” he says after taking a sip.

  “Aren’t they at opposite ends of the high street?”

  “And?”

  I don’t really have an argument so smiling to myself I pop the top off the cup to allow it to cool down. I’m not overly fussy when it comes to coffee but when I see what I think is a cappuccino, I can’t help but smile. “Perfect,” I say, and Bax’s face lights up. My heart flutters slightly at the sight and I desperately want to tell it not to be so stupid.

  I take a tedious sip and when it’s even hotter than I was expecting, I put it down and grab the bag. “Yum,” I say, opening up the muffin, “just what I needed.”

  We both polish off our breakfast in record time before falling back into a comfortable silence.

  “So what’s the plan?” I ask eventually, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  “You’re still up for it?” Bax asks, incredulously.

  “Of course. I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t mean it.”

  I get another smile off him and it affects me no less than last time. What is it about this guy?

  “Is it okay with you if we don’t have a plan? My life is one strict routine; I’d quite like to go with the flow for once.”

  “Of course. So when are we going?”

  “I thought once we’re sorted here, we’d go, get our stuff, and head off.”

  “I thought you didn’t have any plans?”

  “Once we’re in my car and driving out of Bristol, I have none,” he says wi
th a laugh. He looks away from me but not before I see a serious look fall over his face. “This is just a two week thing, no exchanging numbers or anything. Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

  My heart sinks a little at the thought of whatever this is having a time limit, but I’m aware that it’s what I signed up for when I agreed to this last night. “Yeah, that’s fine with me,” I answer, although a little reluctantly.

  It’s still crazy early when our taxi pulls up outside Bax’s mum’s home. It’s not quite what I was expecting after spending the night with him. In my head, I had the image of a standard three-bed semi with a cute little garden, but in reality, his mum lives in a flat in a seriously run down area of town.

  “Thanks, mate,” Bax says, paying the driver. I hop from the taxi and he follows behind me. “This way. My car’s in the garage.” He places his hand on the small of my back and pushes me towards a set of dilapidated looking garages. It’s obvious which one his car is in because there’s only one with a working door. The rest are all hanging off at odd angles or missing completely.

  When he pulls the door up, my eyes almost bug out of my head. “You’re a boy racer?” I ask in shock as I run my eyes over his immaculate white Peugeot.

  “I can assure you I’m not. We won’t be cruising with a banging bass or hanging out in any McDonald’s car parks.”

  “Riiiight.” I can’t help laughing at the look on his face.

  “I love cars, especially classic ones.”

  “I’m not sure a nineties Peugeot 106 is a classic, Bax.”

  “Maybe not, but she’s a beauty. I’ve totally rebuilt her from the wheels up. You won’t find a better 106 out there. Anyway, get in, get comfortable, and I’ll be back in a few.”

  “You’re leaving me here?”

  “Yeah, I’ll only be a minute or two. My stuff’s packed already from getting back yesterday.”

  I agree, but only because I can tell by his stance that I don’t have a chance in hell of going with him. He’s decided that I’m staying here and that’s what’s going to happen. I realise I’m getting my first look at Bax the solider, and it’s hot.

  I’ve never been in a car quite like this before. I drop my clutch on my lap and look around. The red and black interior is a stark contrast to the perfect white paintwork on the outside. I’ve no idea when Bax last drove this, but it’s sparkling clean. The black dashboard almost shines in the morning sun, and the red leather bucket seats look brand new. I continue looking around and come to the conclusion that Bax is a bit of a neat freak. There’s nothing in the door pockets—not even an old packet of chewing gum—and the glove box is definitely different to any I’ve ever seen before as it only contains one very neatly folded cloth.

  I’m distracted from his perfect car by some movement in front of his building. I look over, thinking I’m going to be able to ogle him as he walks this way. Only, when I look up, it isn’t him on the doorstep. Instead, there’s a woman. She’s got to be in her fifties at least. Her hair is a mess and sticking up in all directions, and her make up is so heavy I can see it all smeared down her face from here, but the thing that makes her stand out the most is what she’s wearing—or isn’t wearing. The lace nightie covers nothing, and I mean nothing. The much younger man she’s with hands her something before turning and walking away. I quickly look down, not wanting to be caught watching them.

  I grab my phone as a distraction and send a text to Frankie to ask how her night was. I don’t expect an answer for hours yet. If I get any contact from her before two o’clock this afternoon, I’ll be amazed.

  “Hey, you haven’t run,” Bax says as he drops down next to me after throwing a bag into the back seat.

  “I’m not sure I’d want to around here.” I regret my words instantly when I remember this is where he lives.

  “Wise move. This place is a shit hole.” His obvious dislike of it makes me feel a little better. “I didn’t grow up here. We used to have a lovely house in a nice neighbourhood, but when Dad left, it all went to shit.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I joined the army the second I could, and left Mum to ruin her own life.” As the words leave his mouth, I can’t help but wonder if the woman I just saw was her.

  It turns out we can’t go anywhere until Peggy the Peugeot—yes, the car has a name—has a thorough once over, so our first destination is to an ancient looking garage on the edge of town.

  “Are you sure this place is still in business?” The old tin building looks like it’s about to fall down. I’m not sure it’s somewhere I’d want my pride and joy to be.

  “Yeah, it’s open.”

  I see he’s right the second he pulls the car to a stop, because a door opens and an elderly man steps out with a huge smile on his face.

  “Bax! I wasn’t expecting to see you. What a lovely surprise on this sunny Sunday.” The man’s joy couldn’t be any clearer.

  Bax jumps from the car and I watch as the two hug it out. I’ve no idea who this guy is, but they’re clearly close.

  They’re just pulling apart when I reach them. “Erin, this is Arthur, my grandad’s best mate. Arthur, this is Erin, she’s…”

  “A friend,” I finish to help him out, although calling us friends might be pushing it slightly.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Erin. Bax here needs a good friend,” he says, elbowing Bax in the arm and winking at both of us. I try to play it cool but I can feel heat rushing to my cheeks at his insinuation. “Let’s go and get some coffees, young lady. If I know Bax, you’re in for a long few hours.”

  It turns out he wasn’t lying. I spend a couple of hours chatting to Arthur in his little make shift kitchen before venturing out to sit at a bench in the sun. The benefit of being out here is that I get to watch Bax bent over the bonnet of his car, and let me tell you, he has one fine arse.

  I hear nothing back from Frankie so I can only presume she’s had a good night. If she’d gone off with someone who wasn’t Bax’s friend, I might be concerned, but something tells me she’s okay.

  “I promise I’m nearly done,” Bax shouts over as he wipes his hands on a rag.

  “Take your time.” His eyes light up and I can only assume that’s because I’m not rushing him and his darling Peggy.

  I look back down at the paper I asked Arthur for and smile. It’s been quite a while since I’ve been able to just sketch for the fun of it. That’s what this all the used to be: fun. I’d design and make jewellery because I loved it, but now I feel like I’m under pressure to deliver because it could be what keeps Mum’s gift shop open. We both do well from my jewellery sales so I keep pushing for more. Unfortunately, that also means pushing my creativity out the window, and recently, I’ve found my designs getting more and more generic and boring. I used to thrive on being unique and different, and sadly those are the designs that sell and make money.

  Once I run out of inspiration from my surroundings, I start work on something totally different. It’s not the easiest thing in the world because he keeps moving, but I do my best.

  “Fucking hell, Skittles, that’s incredible,” I hear over my shoulder, bringing me back to reality. I’d totally lost myself in what I was doing.

  I drag my eyes away from the tiny section I was working on and look at my sketch as a whole. It’s not too bad, I guess. I shrug my shoulders at Bax before looking up at him. What was a smooth shaven face when I first met him yesterday is now covered in a layer of stubble, and he has smears of oil on his cheeks and forehead. It’s really pretty sexy.

  “What?” he asks when I sit there staring at him.

  “Nothing.”

  “No, go on, you’re clearly thinking something.”

  “It’s nothing. Are you finished?”

  He leans forward a little more until our noses are almost touching. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispers.

  I look away from his eyes before muttering that he looks hot.

  “What was that?
I couldn’t quite hear you,” he says, grabbing my cheek gently so he can turn me back to look at him.

  I try to move away from his stare but he holds me in place. “Fine,” I huff. “You look hot, okay?” I force his hand off me and stand up, gathering the paper in front of me as I go.

  “Now, was that so hard to admit, Skittles?” I can hear the humour in his voice and it makes me want to kick him.

  “Shut up,” I mutter. “Can we go now?”

  “Yes, let me just say goodbye to Arthur.”

  When we arrive at my house, thankfully there’s no sign of Mum. It’s not that I don’t want her to meet Bax; it’s more that she’ll try to talk me out of this. She’d probably be right, because disappearing off with a guy I’ve just met is a little nuts, and very out of character for me, but right now I don’t care about any of that. I just want to get away. What we do find is the bottle of vodka and sleeping pills she’s left behind on the dining table. The sight reminds me of everything I’m trying to push to the back of my mind, and a massive ball of guilt has me on the verge of turning Bax down on his offer to disappear.

  One look at him stood in the doorway behind me and I know I’m doing the right thing. He glances at the items on the dining table, then gives me a sad smile. If my assumptions are right about that woman being his mum, I’m guessing he kinda knows how I feel right now.

  I point Bax in the direction of the shower and strip out of last night’s clothes in favour of something more suitable for a road trip before I start gathering my stuff together. I pull my suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe and bang the dust off. It’s been quite a while since it’s seen some holiday action.

  I fill it with clothes before pulling open my pyjama drawer.

  “Fuck,” I mutter to myself when I see the only sets left are the silk lacy ones Frankie bought me for Christmas last year that I’d hidden at the bottom. I glance over my shoulder at my washing basket to see it overflowing. “Fuck.”

  I hear the water shut off and I know I’m running out of time. I really want to get out of here as soon as possible.