Blush: A Strangers-to-Lovers Romance

by Rachel De Lune

  “Hey!”

  I spun around and was ready to take the guy’s head off for sneaking up on me. Except it wasn’t a guy.

  “Sorry,” I offered to Gwen as she jumped back from me.

  “No, my bad. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. You okay?”

  I hadn’t told anyone about Astrid’s surprise visit yesterday. I wasn’t ready to announce to the world that I was a dad until we had a few things sorted. Although, given how poorly things had worked out earlier, I wasn’t sure what the next steps were.

  “Sure. Sure. What’s up?”

  “Err, you stood me up? Breakfast? Remember, jerk face.”

  Shit. “Sorry. I completely forgot.” I ran my hand through my hair.

  “I can see that. You weren’t answering your phone, so I got worried.”

  “Yeah, I turned it off—last minute client. Can we do lunch?”

  “Sorry, I’ve got work. Come over later with a beer, and we can call it quits.”

  I nodded, and she exited, leaving me to pummel the shit out of the bag in front of me, ridding my body of all the rage that had welled up over the last twenty-four hours. I felt out of control, and I fucking hated it.

  Symon arrived after my class to take over for the evening.

  “Hey, man. How do you feel about covering for me next week? I might need to take a couple of days off.”

  “Umm, yeah. No problem, if I can fit them in. Everything okay?” His casual question made me pause.

  “Sure. Yeah. I just need to sort a few things. I’ll be gone a maximum of two days.” Hell, I had to work some sort of plan out. And I couldn’t do that alone. It had only been a few hours, and I was already itching to be back with Finn.

  My anger was still a little raw to think too hard about Astrid right now.

  “You’ve got it.”

  “Cool. And, where did you get your ink done?” Symon had a scroll pattern with lettering over his shoulders. It wasn’t as artistic as Astrid’s sleeve, but it had given me an idea.

  “Guy over the other side of town. Max. Why, you looking to christen that skin of yours.”

  “Maybe. Will you text me the details?”

  “Sure. Are you back later?”

  “No. Nothing left on the books after my next session.” It was odd for me not to be here every spare minute, but right now, I had to get my head straight.

  “Okay. I’ll lock up and see you in a couple of days.”

  “Sure, man. Thank you.”

  The couple of photos that I’d taken of Finn earlier occupied all of my attention for the rest of the afternoon. His cheeks, his little feet kicking in the air—God, how was I going to figure all of this out?

  Everything had finally fallen into place. The business was taking off and going where I’d hoped after all the hard work, and it was a fucking relief. For the first time since Maddison’s death, I felt positive. Like I was doing something meaningful with my life that I could be proud of. That was important to me, along with acknowledging the darkness of my past and still being here to live in the light.

  And then Astrid had walked back into my life.

  I’d dreamt of her picking up her phone or seeing her again. Hell, I’d been borderline obsessed with her in London—she’d driven me crazy in a good way. And I had been ready to go all-in with her. But this wasn’t what I’d thought of when I’d pictured us getting back together. Although ‘back together’ was a tentative term, given we’d barely been together. But to me, it didn’t matter how we classified what we had. It was real—it had felt real. It hurt like hell and layered a shit tonne of questions on top of my decision to leave, and the only explanation was that she mattered to me more than I ever let on.

  Have you left?

  I send her a text, unable just to leave things.

  On the train back now.

  I meant what I said, Astrid. I want to be in his life. We need to figure this out, and you need to let us do that.

  I’m sorry. I know I keep saying that, but it’s the truth. But it’s a big adjustment for me as well as you. I’ll try to do better.

  Will you send me photos? Every day. If I can’t be there to see him, I need you to keep me updated.

  Of course.

  A couple of minutes later a photo pinged to my phone of Finn looking over Belle’s shoulder. Jealousy that she’d been there to help and do all of these things with my son rose within me, and my fist clenched by my side. It should have been me, holding him, me spending my time watching him.

  It made me feel fucking worthless all over again. And all I wanted was to show Astrid that she needed to let me in without pushing me away again.

  I scrolled to Symon’s message and pulled up the details for the tattoo studio he’d recommended. I fired off a message and got a return a few minutes later. They had a slot in a couple of hours—midweek wasn’t the busiest of times, and could fit me in.

  We went back and forth with my idea, and Max confirmed he’d have a concept before I arrived. Shit!

  Hey, kid, meet me here at 5:30.

  I sent her the address.

  What the hell are you doing at a tattoo studio?

  I’ll tell you if you show up.

  Oh, hell. Watching you get stuck with a needle. I’m in. Don’t forget you owe me a beer.

  Yeah, yeah. After. See you later.

  Gwen and I hadn’t been that close before I turned to her for help, but she’d been there for me since coming back. I’d left for London without any real hesitations after my defeat, and that was for a crappy job with my uncle.

  Could I leave again so easily if it meant being with my son? I’d lose everything I’d worked for this past year. The business, all the money I’d sunk into it, and I’d be back to having nothing. But I’d win a family—or at least part of one.

  I brought up the photos of Finn again and felt the tightness in my chest. I’d have to find a way to earn a living and be with my son—plenty of people did it every day. Except, I knew I didn’t want to be the guy who only saw my kid every other weekend, or just at the holidays.

  Would Astrid move here?

  The question played around in my head as I made my way across town to my appointment. Max sent me a drawing on the way, and I pulled it up after I’d parked. It looked fucking ace.

  When I got to the address, Gwen was waiting outside. She was bouncing with energy and had the biggest grin on her face when she saw me.

  “Man, I don’t know what’s got into you, but I’m going to enjoy this.”

  “How much caffeine have you had today?”

  “None. Shut the fuck up.” She shoved me, and we both entered the studio with smiles.

  “Hey, I’m Max.” A giant of a guy, with a sleeve full of tattoos, welcomed us. He dwarfed Gwen, and she had to tilt her head to look at the guy.

  “Leo. Thanks for fitting me in.”

  “No problem. Come on. We’ll get you set up.”

  We both followed Max, and I took a seat on the leather chair that looked like one at my dentist’s. The sketch of my tattoo was already on the side, but Max had to check it fitted. He placed the paper, and I let him do his thing.

  “What’s Finn?” Gwen asked.

  “Not what, who,” I corrected. Time to fill her in.

  “Okay, who then?”

  I turned to look at her, the gravity of my next words wiping the smile from my lips. “My son.”

  Silence.

  Gwen’s stunned expression would have been priceless if I’d told her anything but this. I tracked the emotions as they crossed her eyes and changed the slant of her brows and the look in her eyes.

  “You ready, mate?” Max interrupted.

  “Sure.”

  He moved my arm out to the side, and he wheeled himself into position in front of my tricep. “Keep still. Just a scratch.” The buzzing started, and I took a deep breath. I hadn’t been nervous until the noise struck me.

  “Wait, wait, there’s nothing on your arm, how’s he going to—”r />
  “Freehand, darlin’. Relax.” Max put Gwen in her place, and she piped down pretty quickly.

  The first stroke almost tickled, but as Max got going, the hum turned into a numbing pain, spreading out around the lines he was making in my skin. It wasn’t unbearable, nothing like the pain of getting hit in the face or chest. This was different—spikey, and then it dulled to a burn.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Gwen’s colour drained from her face.

  “Sit. Quickly!” I shouted, not wanting her to pass out in under a minute.

  Her arse hit the chair alongside Max’s station, and she dropped her head between her knees. “Did you really say son?” Her muffled voice filtered up from the ground.

  “Yeah. I did.”

  “Leo, you need to explain some shit because I’m pretty sure you’ve not been with a girl since you’ve been back. So what the hell is going on?”

  “Finn is my son. Astrid got pregnant before I left London, but didn’t tell me. She changed her mind and came to tell me yesterday.”

  “That fucking bitch, how—”

  “Watch your mouth, kid.”

  “Leo, dude you gotta keep still,” Max admonished me.

  “Sorry,” I apologised and got back to keeping my body rigid.

  “Sorry, but what the hell? Why would she keep your own baby from you?”

  “I don’t know the full story. She got spooked. Thought I was nothing but a cage fighter.”

  “This the same girl who showed up to see you fight, but then left? The one you were all mopey over.”

  “The same one.”

  “What the hell! Man, I do not like this girl, Leo.” She shook her head as if she had a say in the matter.

  The conversation quietened, both of us thinking. It felt good to be able to tell Gwen. However, I could see that any future meeting between her and Astrid would be interesting. Sparks would fly, and that brought a twitch of a smile to my lips.

  I zoned out and let Max do his thing, finding a happy spot in my mind where I could tune out the pain that had started to mount. A few hours was what Max had estimated, and I fucking hoped he wasn’t lying.

  “Pretty fucking bold move, Leo. You happy?” Gwen asked as I twisted to see the tattoo in the mirror.

  Yeah, it was bold, but it felt good. Like I’d done something to cement Finn into my life. This was in my control, and right now, that’s what I needed.

  “It’s perfect.” Black and grey clouds and waves framed Finn’s name around my tricep and arm. I loved it. As soon as it was finished, I understood why Astrid had a full sleeve—I already wanted another tattoo.

  I settled up with Max, and he gave me the rundown on aftercare before Gwen and I left.

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “Head home.”

  “No, you doofus. With Astrid and Finn?” She smiled at me and showed the genuine concern I knew she’d have for me.

  “Take it one day at a time. Talk to Astrid. Beyond that, I have no idea.”

  “Do Mum and Dad know?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. Hell, I need to work out a few things first.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Do you mind if we—”

  “Rain check the beer? Sure. You made up for it by getting stuck with a needle, although I’d hoped for more pain.”

  I slapped her shoulder, and she punched my other arm in retaliation.

  “I’ll speak to you soon.” She waved and headed to where she’d parked.

  Say goodnight to Finn for me X

  I fired off a message before I headed for home.

  By the time I pulled up into the drive, a new image of Finn was waiting for me. This time, sparked out in his basket, fast asleep.

  He was perfect.

  Now I had to convince his mother that we had a future as a family. That was the only solution I could come up with, and now my temper had calmed, I knew I missed Astrid and wanted another shot with her. This time, I wouldn’t walk away for anything.

  25

  Leo

  The days dragged. It had been nearly a week since Astrid had first popped back up into my life.

  She was good to her word and texted with photos of Finn every day, and every time I opened my phone to see the image, my heart pulsed a little harder in my chest. I missed him. I’d only held him twice, but it felt like I was missing something significant by being apart from him. And I missed Astrid.

  The anger and resentment that had festered inside my veins eased as time passed. Sure, it still hurt like hell, but I couldn’t change the facts or what Astrid had done. And with her back in London with Finn, it was hard to stay so mad. We needed to talk about a lot of stuff, but I schooled my temper—that wouldn’t help—and it would only serve to push her away.

  I’d got cover for my clients and classes with Symon, and I’d arranged my visit with Astrid. I made sure she knew I was coming and that I expected to see Finn. The plan I had was to just stay with her, except I wasn’t going to tell her that last bit. She could try and throw me out, but that wasn’t in my game plan.

  I set off at the crack of dawn, impatient to arrive before we’d even left the station. Hours later, with two short delays, the train finally pulled into Paddington. At least it wouldn’t be too long now. Impatience wasn’t usually my style, but these last weeks had felt so long. I’d already missed far too much of Finn’s life. I didn’t want to lose any more. I travelled the familiar underground to Astrid’s and pressed the buzzer for her apartment.

  The door opened, and I jogged up to her door. Before I even knocked, I could hear Finn crying on the other side. Panic rushed through me at the sound, and I banged my fist on the door, desperate to reach him. I had no clue what I could do to help, but I was desperate to try.

  “Easy, there.” Astrid opened the door with Finn balanced on her arm, his little red face still screaming for… something.

  “Is he all right?”

  “He’s fine. He’s hungry and has no patience.” She raised her eyes to mine before she turned to head back to the kitchen. I followed her inside and noticed the changes to the apartment.

  The buggy in the hallway, the playmat in front of the sofa, baby paraphernalia littered the place. It wasn’t the same sleek space that Astrid had invited me to that first time.

  She disappeared into her office, and I risked looking around the corner. She was sitting in a rocking chair of sorts, feeding Finn. The silence blanketed the house as if everything was right in the world again, and I suppose, to Finn, it was.

  “Do you want a drink?” I offered.

  “Sure. I’ll have a tea. Help yourself. We’ll be done in a few.”

  I dropped my bag and jacket down in the front room and set about my job. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if I could take over, but I was here now. There’d be time.

  On the way up on the train, I’d gone over possible conversations and reminded myself that this was new for both of us. We needed time, and I couldn’t force or rush anything.

  Patience. The word rang around my head. Again.

  I made the drinks and then slipped back inside the door to watch Finn. Astrid looked so at ease with him. Her head tilted to look down at him, her foot gently pushing them into a steady rhythm. She’d never looked more beautiful.

  She raised her eyes to me, and her smile beamed, lighting up her face. Fuck.

  “Can I take him when you’re done?” I asked, coughing to clear my throat.

  “Sure. I’ll bring him out. You can walk around with him to burp him. Hopefully, he won’t sick-up on you. You brought a change of clothes, right?”

  Was she being serious? “Sure. But how many shirts do you think I’ll need?”

  “Oh, I’m sure Finn will be good.” She smirked and looked back down at our baby and cooed at him.

  I ducked out of the room, needing to take a breather from the tonne of emotion that had just dumped down on me at that sight. It was like someone had reached into my fucking
chest and squeezed my heart in their fist.

  I ambled around the apartment and looked at all the ‘stuff’ that Finn needed. My place wasn’t much bigger than Astrid’s, and I mentally planned what I’d need if I were going to have him stay at my house for any period of time.

  “All done. Your turn.” Astrid was holding Finn for me as I turned around. I gently took him and rested him on my shoulder. “Oh, you’ll need one of these.” She grabbed a scrap of material from the back of the sofa and draped it over my shirt and under Finn’s chin. “Now you’re set. Rub his back gently and move about with him. You’ll know when it’s done.”

  The little bundle fitted over my shoulder, and I did as instructed and walked around the space. It was not long before he scrunched up his little legs and let out a belch I’d be proud of. “Good man.” I continued to stroke his back and found a slightly less awkward bounce motion.

  It felt good. The weight of his body nestled into mine, and it wasn’t so terrifying this time—at least I wasn’t so afraid I might break the guy.

  “So, what now?” I asked, not sure if I was meant to just walk around for the next hour or what.

  “We go out. Finn doesn’t like being cooped up.” I didn’t blame him. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll get the straps.”

  “Straps?”

  “Yeah. The baby carrier. I don’t like taking Finn in the pram if we need to get transport, so he’s usually strapped to me. You’ll love it.”

  Astrid returned from her office with a contraption that didn’t look anything like straps and just a lot of elastic fabric. “What is that?”

  “Finn’s carrier. Here.” She started to put the strips of material over and around, moving Finn from his perch on my shoulder to my chest and wrapping him in place. “There. You’re all set.”