Sidequest for Love

by L.H. Cosway

  I definitely wasn’t looking forward to that.

  Walking over to the bed, I sat down and accepted Afric’s call. When she filled the screen, I blinked. Then I did a double-take.

  “Hey, so I actually think we might have watched every decent period drama out there. I’ve been at a loss to find something new that has good reviews,” she said, but I barely heard her. I was too struck by the sight of her.

  “Neil?” she said, frowning. “Are you okay?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yes, I’m fine … Just, what are you wearing?”

  She glanced down at the tight, pale vest top she wore, a bright purple bra evident underneath. I’d never seen her wear anything like that. She always had on baggy pyjamas or oversized jumpers. I’d even wondered if she was self-conscious about her weight. She certainly didn’t need to be. Afric was curvaceous in a way that would make most men’s jaws drop, and her breasts were … God, I felt like a pervert even looking at them, but they were perfect. Definitely more than a handful. And that was something I wished I didn’t know. There was a certain bliss to ignorance because the feelings I’d been having and the closeness we’d developed now had the added bonus of me being undeniably sexually attracted to her. Maybe I always had been and had just been lying to myself all this time. She had a pretty face, well, a beautiful face, actually, and now I knew her body was just as beautiful.

  I was in so much trouble.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “Sorry. I’ve probably scarred you for life by wielding my road frontage in your face. Sarita left the heating on for too long, and the flat is absolutely boiling. You’re lucky I’m not in the nip, to be perfectly honest.”

  Thank heavens for small mercies.

  Still, I really didn’t need that imagery in my head. Also, did she just use the term “road frontage” to refer to her ample bosom? I stifled a laugh, grateful that she could only see above my waist because my pants had grown distinctly tighter.

  “Neil, you’ve gone bright red,” she went on. “Do you want me to put something on? I think I have a pashmina lying around here somewhere.”

  “Yes, put on the pashmina,” I said stiffly. “I feel like I’ve just logged onto your OnlyFans.”

  I immediately regretted saying that when she grinned into the camera, placing a hand on her hip.

  “Oh, come on. This top isn’t that revealing. It’s a simple vest. It’s hardly a see-through bra with nipple peekaboos.”

  “What on earth are nipple peeka—No, never mind, I don’t want to know.”

  Her wonderfully cheeky laughter filtered through the speaker. “You are such a prude, and I love it! Hold on. I’m getting the pashmina.”

  “Thank Christ.”

  When she reappeared, she was thankfully covered, though the item of clothing she now wore was made of black silk dotted with pale pink cherry blossoms. It was arguably sexier than the low-cut vest, but at least now I didn’t have to avoid looking at the most glorious cleavage I’d ever seen.

  “This better?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Well, I’m blaming you if I die of heatstroke. Also, can we discuss the fact that your cheeks are still flaming? What on earth, Neil? It’s just me. You don’t need to be embarrassed by a pair of boobs. Actually, you should be flattered. I only let people I trust see my body.”

  Now, I frowned. “Why is that?”

  She shrugged. “When I first started streaming, I was a little naïve and used to wear normal clothes. Nothing even remotely risqué, mind. Just normal-sized T-shirts and tops. Well, unfortunately, I was blessed with my mother’s giant knockers, and the comments were almost ninety percent boob-related. That’s why I now wear tops that cover them up. Not because I’m ashamed of them. They give me back pain from time to time, but other than that, I think they’re fantastic.” I knew of a few other choice words to describe them. “I just don’t want to attract viewers who are only interested in sexualising me. Sure, I might have a bigger audience if I did, but mentally, that kind of commentary starts to weigh on you. It makes you overly critical about your appearance, and I don’t want to spend my time obsessing over what I look like.”

  It was enraging that she had to go to such lengths to cover herself, but I understood the nature of the internet. Being the only female cast member of Running on Air, Leanne had to deal with some horrifically demeaning comments from time to time. Luckily, she had a great support network to help her deal with things like that when they happened. Afric had been all on her own, and the thought of her being emotionally mature enough to go through that and come out the other side intact was impressive. It was times like these I was glad that my sister shied away from dating apps.

  “I fucking hate that you had to go through that,” I said, my jaw tense.

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Did you just swear?”

  “Yes, because what you just told me makes me angry. You were what, a teenager when all this happened?” Michaela had mentioned Afric was pretty young when she started online.

  “I was eighteen.”

  “See? That pisses me off.”

  “I have to say; I quite like it when you’re pissed off on my behalf. It’s very sexy alpha male.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  “Don’t brush off what happened by pretending to flirt with me.”

  “Who says I’m pretending? Anyway, it was a long time ago. I’m over it.”

  “It’s obviously still affecting you psychologically. You don’t just wear baggy clothes to stream. You wear them all the time. And for some reason, you hate kissing, which is also concerning—”

  “The kissing thing has nothing to do with the clothes. That’s a separate matter entirely.”

  “Even so, I don’t like it. You’re young and beautiful and funny and kind and brilliant, and you shouldn’t miss out on a lifetime of kisses,” I clamped my mouth shut when I realised how much I’d rambled.

  Onscreen, Afric stared at me. For once, she looked speechless. Then she finally spoke, “You think I’m kind?”

  It surprised me that kindness was the compliment she’d decided to focus on. “Yes, you’ve been kind to me at least.”

  “I didn’t realise bothering you with random text messages day and night was considered a kindness,” she said with a surprisingly shy laugh.

  I looked her in the eye. “The texts don’t bother me, Afric. I like them.” Not only that, I looked forward to them on an unhealthy level. I refrained from mentioning that to her, though.

  “Oh … Well, that’s good to hear.” She fell silent again. Her eyes levelled on something on the other side of her room when she whispered, “Thanks for the other part as well.”

  “What other part?”

  “You called me beautiful. I can’t remember if anyone’s ever called me that before.”

  A moment of honesty struck me. “Well, they should because you are. You’ve got incredible eyes, a cute nose, and gorgeous …”

  At this, her lips began to curve in a grin. “And gorgeous what?”

  I swallowed, forcing myself to answer. “Gorgeous lips. Don’t go getting a big head about it.”

  Her grin widened. “Too late. I can already feel it expanding. Please don’t be too distracted by my gorgeous lips. I wouldn’t want you getting turned on by the idea of me wrapping them around your gorgeous—”

  “Afric!”

  “Gorgeous cheek,” she finished. “What did you think I was going to say?”

  I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “Go on, lap it up because that’s the last time you’ll ever get a compliment from me.”

  “Aw, not fair! I want more compliments, Neil. I love how embarrassed you get when you give them.”

  “I know you do, you sadist.”

  “So, we should probably branch out and watch a new genre since we’ve exhausted the available selection of period dramas. How do you feel about romcoms?” she asked, and I was relieved for the change of subject. />
  “I have no aversion to romcoms. What did you have in mind?”

  “I was thinking we could go by decade. Start with the best romcoms of the eighties and work our way up from there.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I replied and settled in while she searched for a movie.

  ***

  The following morning, after I’d gone through security and had an hour to wait for my flight, I grabbed a coffee and found a quiet spot to do some work. When I logged into one of Callum’s social media accounts, I found a message from Annabelle.

  Hi Cal,

  I hope you’re doing well. I don’t want to be that whiny, insecure girl who complains about stuff like this, but you’ve gone real quiet on me lately, and I’m just worried I said something wrong. Did I? Or have you simply decided to ghost me? I wouldn’t blame you if you have. I’m just some random person on the internet, and you’re a famous TV star. I get it. If you don’t want to keep talking to me, that’s fine. I won’t bother you anymore. But if it’s something else, if it’s something I’ve done to upset you, please let me know. I’ve been driving myself crazy wondering.

  Love Annabelle.

  xxx.

  Guilt sliced through me as I read her message. I was a pathetic excuse for a human being. I’d led this woman on and gone silent on her out of nowhere. I needed to fix the mistake. I needed to come clean to her. She deserved that much. Drawing in a deep breath, I drafted a reply.

  Hi Annabelle,

  First, please let me apologise for the silence on my end. I’ve been working through some things, but that’s no excuse. I’ve clearly hurt your feelings, and that was never my intention. I’m about to board a flight back to London, and once I get settled after I land, I’d like to meet up to talk in person. I have something important that I need to tell you, and I feel it would be a further disrespect not to explain everything face to face. If you’re free someday this week, please let me know. I’ll pay for whatever transport you need to come and meet me.

  Sincerely, Callum.

  Afric

  My phone vibrated with a call from Michaela, and I picked it up right away.

  “Hello, stranger! How are you? How was New York?” I asked, excited to hear from her.

  “Hey, it’s so good to hear your voice,” she said. “New York was wonderful but exhausting. We got home last night, and I slept for thirteen hours.”

  Nervous energy fluttered through me. If Michaela was home, that meant Neil was home, too. I figured he’d been sleeping after the flight as well because he hadn’t called or texted in over a day. It was the longest we’d gone without communicating since he’d left for the trip. The thought of seeing him gave me way too many feelings, the most prominent being anticipation.

  “Oh, I love a long, delicious sleep after getting home from travelling. So, when can I see you?”

  “Actually, I was hoping we could hang out today, but I have a favour to ask.”

  “A favour?”

  “It’s Isaac’s birthday, and Neil and I have been given the task of organising a small, impromptu surprise party. We’ve rented a private roof bar, but because it’s so last minute, we can’t get any staff except for a barman. Would you mind helping set everything up? Sarita and Mabel have already agreed to help, but I need one more person. Please say you’ll do it? There’ll be free drinks and snacks involved.”

  “You had me at roof bar. What time do you need me there?”

  “Can you make it by four? The party starts at six.”

  “I can make it. But there’s something you should know before I arrive.”

  “Oh?” she said, a note of curiosity in her voice.

  “Drumroll, please … Neil and I have kind of become friends. Really good friends, actually.”

  There was a pause on her end. I expected her to express surprise and shock, but instead, she exclaimed, “Oh, my God, I bloody knew it! I knew he was hiding something. Are you two ….”

  “No, no, we’re just friends. We hit it off that time I covered for you at the private screening.”

  “That’s so unexpected. I thought you both rubbed each other the wrong way.”

  “We did, but then he realised how amazing I am, so here we are.”

  “You are definitely amazing. I can’t wait to interrogate Neil about keeping secrets from me. Okay, I better go, but I’ll see you later. I’ll text you the address of the bar.”

  “See you later.”

  As soon as I hung up, butterflies filled my stomach. After all these weeks, I was going to see Neil in person. A memory from the other night surfaced. I’d been so eager to call him that I’d completely forgotten what I was wearing. I’d never revealed much skin in front of Neil before, and when he got a load of me in my tight, low-cut top, I swear he almost burst a blood vessel. It was clear he was embarrassed, and it was also clear he hadn’t disliked what he saw. The idea sent a fresh wave of butterflies through me.

  You’re young and beautiful and funny and kind and brilliant, and you shouldn’t miss out on a lifetime of kisses.

  No one had ever spoken to me like that. Dev, nor any of my previous boyfriends, had ever expressed such sentiments. I couldn’t believe that was what Neil thought about me. I never expected him, of all people, to think of me so favourably. The bit at the end about a “lifetime of kisses” had me unconsciously lifting my fingers to lips.

  Would I still hate kissing as much as I did if Neil was the one kissing me?

  I wasn’t so sure.

  All I knew was I didn’t despise the idea the way I did when I thought about kissing anyone else.

  I’d just showered, but I still needed to find something to wear. Day to day, I never gave much thought to dressing up fancy, mainly because I spent most of my time in my bedroom. Today was different, though. Some part of me yearned for Neil to look at me in the way he had over our last video call. I wanted to see the flushed cheeks paired with the flash of heat in his dark brown eyes.

  For once, I regretted my wardrobe of comfortable yet stylish designer items. I didn’t own anything that would be considered “sexy.” But for the first time in a long time, I felt like wearing something that wasn’t three sizes too big.

  Rifling through my wardrobe, I finally found a black skater dress that I hadn’t worn in forever. It was conservative since it had a high neckline and long sleeves down to the wrists, but it was also tight around the bosom before flaring out over the hips. I grabbed the dress, then found some purple tights and paired them with my red Converse. Next, I styled my hair into space buns, put on a little make-up as well as a pair of large gold hoop earrings, and I was ready to go.

  I studied my reflection and smiled. Yes, this outfit would do nicely.

  Sarita and Mabel were waiting in the living area when I emerged from my bedroom. They’d both agreed to help Michaela with the party, too. Sarita eyed me up and down.

  “Okay, who are you, and what have you done with Afric?”

  I put a hand on my hip. “I’m wearing a dress. What’s your problem?”

  “No problem. I’m just wondering who you’ve dolled yourself up for,” she shot back. “Is Michael Sheen going to be at this party or something?”

  “You leave Michael out of this. And no, he isn’t. I haven’t dolled myself up for anyone. It’s a party. I can hardly go in pyjamas.”

  “Well, I think you look lovely,” Mabel said, shooting me a kind smile.

  “Thank you, Mabel.”

  Sarita blew out a breath. “Fine, keep your secrets. We’d better get going if we don’t want to be late.”

  A little while later, Sarita, Mabel, and I entered the private rooftop bar in Shoreditch, where Isaac’s surprise party was being held. He was the newest and youngest member of Running on Air. Originally from South Africa, I read that the group had discovered him while filming one of the earlier seasons and subsequently recruited him to be on the show. I thought it was nice how they all welcomed him into the fold and threw him birthday parties even though he hadn�
��t been with them very long. Michaela always said that working on the show felt like being in a big family, and I sometimes felt a little jealous of that.

  I was a dichotomy because I adored being alone, working for myself and answering to no one, but I also craved companionship.

  Michaela was there to greet us when we arrived, though I didn’t spot Neil anywhere. She must’ve sensed I was searching for him because she shot me a secret smile and whispered, “He’s out back taking drinks inventory.”

  I grinned and headed in the direction Michaela had pointed. There was a small hallway at the end of which appeared to be a stock room. I approached the threshold, and there he was. His back was turned to me as he held a clipboard and pen, scribbling down numbers while counting bottles of alcohol. I allowed myself a moment to take him in and also to admire his backside in the navy slacks he wore. Then, quite impulsively, I launched myself forward and wrapped my arms around his middle. A startled breath gushed out of him as he stiffened.

  “Guess who?” I whispered, and he instantly relaxed. A deep, amused chuckle escaped him.

  “Afric,” he said, still facing away from me. My name on his tongue sent a tingle down my spine. God, I really had it bad. “You almost gave me a heart attack,” he went on.

  On instinct, I rested my head in the space between his surprisingly broad, firm shoulders. “Sorry. I was excited to see you. You smell amazing, by the way. What cologne are you wearing?”

  I felt him melt into the backwards hug like he needed the connection just as much as I did.

  “Um … I think that’s just my fabric softener.”

  I took a deep inhale. “Whatever it is, it smells great.”

  A small sigh escaped him. “Thanks.”

  “How was your flight home?”

  “Long. I’m glad to be back.”

  “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Are we ever going to turn around and face each other?” There was a smile in his voice.

  “I don’t think so. I’m enjoying this hug too much.”

  “Me, too.”

  “For a rangy bloke, you’re surprisingly huggable.”

  He laughed, and the sound vibrated through me. He began to twist around, but I didn’t loosen my hold as I looked up. Our eyes met. There was a tenderness in his gaze that took me off guard. His eyes travelled over my face, taking in my every feature before settling for several seconds on my lips. My belly fluttered. Neil brought his eyes back to mine, and I finally released my hold and stepped away. His gaze swept down my body and his eyebrows rose.