Nothing new, just being the usual dickhead. But I think I need to get out sooner rather than later.

  Laur:

  I’ll ask around. What’s new?

  Me:

  Nothing much, started casual shifts at The Thirst Trap this month. Hoping it will lead to something more permanent.

  Laur:

  Ah, I love it in there - let me know when you’re working and I’ll bring the crew in and make sure they give you loads of tips!

  Me:

  Will do. Off to make shit on the pottery wheel. Let me know if you hear of anywhere I could stay.

  Laur:

  On it. Love you x

  Me:

  Whatever, loser! x

  I tuck my phone away in my pocket as I arrive at the studio, ready to roll my sleeves up and lose myself in the clay for a few hours.

  By 6 pm I’m back at home. The bar doesn’t need me, but I got a text from Abby to arrange a quiet time for me to go in and practice cocktails one day before my shift. I’ve mostly been clearing tables and taking food out to customers, so it’s promising that they’re asking me to train up behind the bar. Fingers crossed it all works out and I get some more regular shifts soon.

  I’m just warming up some leftovers to scoff down before I head to Zack’s when the front door opens and slams shut. I grit my teeth. There’s only one person in this house that arrives with that much attitude. Dammit, I was really hoping I’d be back out of here before he got home. The microwave dings and I grab a fork from the drawer. No need for crockery. If I eat the pasta-bake out the dish it’s already in, there’s less cleaning up.

  I’m making my way over to the table in the corner to eat when Doug appears in the doorway. He looks more worse for wear than usual. He’s wearing smart trousers and a shirt, but his tie is half undone and hanging round his neck. His cheeks are ruddy, and even from this distance, I can smell the alcohol on him.

  “Little early in the evening to be this hammered, isn’t it, Dougie?” He hates it when I call him that. His eyes narrow as he looks over at me and clocks what I’m eating.

  “You little shit. That was my dinner.”

  “Didn’t see your name on it. Finders keepers.” I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just can’t stop myself riling him up at every opportunity.

  “Where’s your mother?”

  I shrug. “Still at work, I guess.”

  He frowns. “She should be back by now.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Dougie. Maybe she’s avoiding you.”

  He makes his way over and collapses into a chair opposite me, which is strange. He doesn’t tend to hang around and make conversation. I do my best to ignore him, although I’m convinced I could get drunk from the fumes coming off him.

  “I think it’s time you move out. Give your mother and me some space. She spent all those years raising you and your sister and here you are, still leeching off her.”

  “I pay to live here.”

  “Well, it ain’t enough. You eat all the food. Time you grew up and acted like the adult you are now.” His speech is slow and pronounced, like he’s really having to concentrate.

  “Like you, you mean?” I poke the bear; it’s too tempting.

  “Sitting around making vases and cups. That’s not gonna earn your keep. You need to get a proper job. You should be labouring. You don’t know the meaning of hard work.” Disgust clouds his features.

  “What crawled up your ass? You’re being more of a dick than usual.”

  “Fed up with seeing your face every time I come home. Me and your mother want the place to ourselves.”

  “Well, you’re in luck, because once I’ve finished this, I’ll be out for the night. And then I’m working all weekend.”

  He stumbles as he heaves himself out of the chair. I don’t know what my mum sees in him. He’s always been a cunt. At least he’s never lifted a hand to her, but the mouth on him is always abusive. He drags himself to the fridge and pulls out a beer. It takes him several attempts to grab the bottle opener from the drawer and I snigger as I walk past him to the sink.

  He takes me completely off guard when he spins around, faster than I could have ever thought possible, even if he was sober. He leers at me, stepping up close and breathing alcohol fumes into my face.

  “You little fucker. Don’t you laugh at me.”

  It takes everything in me not to laugh again. He pokes my chest once, then again, harder. “I want you out of here.”

  “I’m working on it, Dougie.”

  “Not fast enough. You fucking parasite.”

  I heave a sigh. There’s no point arguing with him, so I decide to wait him out. He’ll remember his beer soon and get out of my hair.

  Sure enough, he lurches to the counter to lift the beer and bottle opener he dropped there.

  “Make yourself useful, open this.” He goes to pass them to me but loses his grip and they both fall to the ground, the bottle shattering on impact.

  “What the fuck did you do that for?”

  “You dropped it, Dougie, not me.” I try to rein in the sarcasm, but it’s difficult.

  He storms at me, pushing at my chest. He’s right in my face now and I see his fist making its way towards my jaw from my periphery. I push him, not too hard, but enough to have him stumble back.

  “Don’t you dare fucking touch me. I will end you.” My anger rises up like a fever.

  Why the fuck is this man living in my home?

  What does my mum see in him?

  I can’t stay here.

  I need to cool down.

  I storm out of the kitchen, pausing to grab my leather jacket and keys from where I left them. I shrug the coat on and check my pocket for my phone. There’s nothing else I need. I shut the front door gently behind me, refusing to slam it like my stepfather regularly does. I want to be nothing like that pathetic excuse for a man.

  Out in the garage, I sling a leg over my bike and start her up. Straight away, I’m comforted by the purr of the engine between my legs. Being on the bike soothes me and gives me a chance to get out of my head. As the automatic garage door opens, I rev the bike and head out.

  I don’t go straight to Zack’s. I know I need to calm down first. I take the bike for a ride, heading out to the more rural roads outside of town. There’s hardly any traffic, and I gradually lose the tightness in my shoulders from the encounter with Doug. I really have to move out of there as soon as I can.

  Once I’ve cooled off, I head over to Zack’s place. I pull the bike up in the driveway and note the silver SUV parked there. Mel’s car. I hope that means she’s home. Getting another look at Zack’s hot mum wouldn’t be bad at all. I can’t stop thinking about how good she’d looked standing there in her skimpy pj’s. Fuck, I have to stop. I can’t walk into Zack’s house with a boner, dammit.

  I take a moment, counting backwards from fifty, as I will my stiffening cock to calm the fuck down. Maybe I need to get laid sometime soon and take my mind off my friend's mum.

  Once there’s no hint of a tent in my jeans, I ring the doorbell. Footsteps approach from the other side as I wait for the door to open.

  The door swings open and Mel stands there. She’s wearing a black pencil skirt that curves over her hips, paired with a silky-looking blouse that comes down to a V at the top of her ample cleavage. She’s wearing tights or stockings, but her feet are bare of shoes and I can’t help but wonder if she was wearing killer heels with the outfit. Her legs are shapely and I want to run my hands up them and discover for myself if it’s stockings she’s got on.

  I realise myself, standing here checking out my mate’s mum when I should be politely saying hello. I meet her gaze and there’s that delicate flush on her cheeks again.

  “Hi, Alex.” Her voice is soft and I love the way she says my name. It makes me want to hear her chant it in my ear as I pound into her.

  “Hey, Zack home?”

  “Sure is. He’s expecting you. Come on in.” She moves back and holds the door open for me. I step up to the same level as her and with no shoes on, she’s much shorter than my 6 foot 1. I get a thrill at the size difference between us. She seems as delicate as my most fragile ceramic pieces.

  She closes the door as I crouch down to take off my biker boots, noticing that she hovers and I hope it’s because she enjoys looking at me. I glance up at her from my crouched position and see her lips part. Her chest rises with her breath and then she pinches her bottom lip between her teeth. I can’t take my eyes off her. I want to get to know her better.

  “Busy day at work?”

  She startles at my question, clearly lost in her own thoughts. “Yes, it was. Grateful to be home to relax.”

  “What have you got planned?”

  “Err, some reading. Have you eaten?”

  “I grabbed some leftovers before I came over.”

  “Ah, okay, Zack is just finishing his dinner now. He’s in the kitchen.”

  “Sorry if I disturbed your meal.” I stand and tuck my boots beside the front door before I shrug off my leather jacket. She reaches her hand out and gestures to take it.

  “All good, I was already finished. Let me hang this up for you. Head on through to the kitchen. There’s Coke or beer in the fridge if you want one.”

  “Thanks, I’ve got the bike, so I’ll stick to non-alcoholic tonight.” I give her a smile. She’s standing watching me, clasping my jacket tightly. “Careful with my jacket. It’s precious.” I give her a wink and her blush intensifies. She spins round and hangs it on a hook, but I notice how her hand brushes down the soft, worn leather before she pulls away.

  “Head through. I’ll see ya later.”

  I try to contain my disappointment when she heads for the stairs, no doubt to disappear to the quiet of her room.

  I wander through to the kitchen and Zack’s sitting at the breakfast bar where we all ate at the weekend, laughing at a video he’s watching on his phone.

  “Hey,” I say to get his attention.

  “Hey, man. Come and watch this. It’s hilarious.” He gestures me over and I lean at the counter beside him to watch a video of a guy trying to reel in a massive fucking fish. “How are you?”

  “Yeah, alright. My stepdad is being a complete twat, but that’s not new. You don’t know anyone looking for a flatmate, do you?” I ask with a hopeful lilt in my voice. I really need to get away from Doug. I want my independence.

  Chapter six

  Mel

  What the fuck am I doing? Not only did I practically drool over my son’s friend when he came in and kneeled to remove his boots, as I imagined what he could do to me from that position. Now, I’ve crept back downstairs after pretending to head up to my room. I don’t even know why. What am I planning to do? Spy on him? Listen to their conversation? I’m a 40-year-old woman, for god’s sake. I’ve got to snap out of this attraction before it becomes an obsession.

  When Zack mentioned that he’d invited Alex over tonight, I struggled to contain myself. We’d been eating dinner when Zack told me Alex was on his way. I’d tried to subtly finger-comb my hair and was tempted to check my appearance in my phone camera. I didn’t do that, but I did pause by the mirror in the hallway on the way to answer the front door and I may have slipped an extra button on my blouse undone. Shameless hussy.

  I’m not planning to do anything. Of course I’m not. But I guess I’m happy that something, make that someone, has got my juices flowing. I need to harness this feeling for good. Maybe play with that toy that Cassidy bought me once Alex has left and Zack is asleep.

  When I looked through the peephole to check it was him, he smiled so sweetly. I hadn’t been expecting that. If anything, he came off as cocky the first time I met him. But he was sweet just now, smiling at me and asking me about my day. That’s dangerous, like we are easing into a friendship. And I have no business having a friendship, let alone anything else, with a twenty-something-year-old who’s friends with my son. I don’t even know his actual age. I daren’t ask; I don’t have a decent reason to check.

  I tilt my head to listen to what the guys are saying and I hear Alex ask Zack, “You don’t know anyone looking for a flatmate, do you?”

  “No, but I’ll ask around,” Zack replies. Zack mentioned the other day that Alex is saving up to move out of home. I find myself thinking about who I know that might need a lodger or a flatmate.

  I mean, we have a spare room and there’s also the space above the garage. The people that lived here before had it kitted out for a lodger. There’s a tiny bathroom with a toilet, basin, and shower. Then there are kitchen cupboards, a sink and countertop in one corner. It’s basic but habitable. After my ex left, I even wondered about renting that space out. It’s mostly been used for storage since then, but it wouldn’t take much to clear it out.

  I close my eyes for a second. If it was any of Zack’s other friends, the ones I’ve known for years, and had absolutely no sexual feelings for, it would be an instant yes. But this would be a bad idea. Not only am I attracted to Alex, I’ve not missed his glances at me either. Okay, maybe he doesn’t fancy me. I’m a forty-year-old divorcee, for god’s sake. But he’s a young guy and with that spark between us, I can’t help but think he’d be easy to seduce. And what the hell do I know about seducing someone? Fuck. It has to be a no. Thank goodness Zack hasn’t thought of it. I’ll just have to hope that Alex finds something soon and I don’t have to feel guilty about not offering him the space.

  I get the fright of my life when there’s movement in the kitchen. I’ve sunk down on a middle stair, lost in my thoughts, and if one of the guys comes through that door I’ll be in full sight. Shit!

  I stand quickly and start walking down the stairs as if I’m only just heading that way now. The kitchen door opens and Alex steps into the hallway, looking back at Zack as says, “I’ve got to get this. It’s my mum.” He closes the door behind him and is now so focused on the phone in his hand that he doesn’t seem to notice me.

  “Hey, Mum, are you okay?” Snippets of speech drift out from the other end of the line, but I can’t make any words out. “He said what? No, I fucking didn’t.” He gets cut off by a response on the other end.

  I’m torn. I know I shouldn’t be listening, but if I move, he’ll see me and know I’ve been loitering. Before I can decide to brazen it out and walk past him to the kitchen, he talks again, his tone agitated as he runs his fingers through his already tousled hair.

  “He dropped his bottle of beer and it smashed because he was already drunk when he got home. I laughed, and he swung for me.” Another pause from him and furious chatter sounds out from the other end of the phone.

  “I pushed him. Not hard. Just enough to stop him from hitting me. And then I left.”

  I raise my hand to my mouth, trying to contain myself. Frustration drips from him as he clenches the fist not holding his phone. I want to reach out and soothe him, but I can’t. It’s not my place.

  “I’m at Zack’s.” More talking from his mum.

  “What do you mean? Why are you taking his side? I’m trying to find somewhere to live, but I haven’t found anywhere yet.” His hand drags down his face and I must make a movement that catches his eye because instantly I’m caught in his gaze. His eyes are dark and stormy as he lets out a deep sigh.

  “Fine, I'll stay somewhere else tonight. I’ll let you know when I’ll be back to collect my stuff.” His long finger prods at the ‘end call’ button once he’s lifted the phone away from his ear.

  He closes his eyes for a second, his head falling forward as he heaves in a deep breath.

  “I’m so sorry. I was coming downstairs. I didn’t mean to listen, but I couldn’t get past without disturbing you.” I’m babbling. “I’ll get out of your way.” I try to squeeze past, but his hand reaches for my shoulder. Despite his clear agitation, his touch is gentle.

  “It’s your house. I’m sorry I was in the way.” He looks like he wants to say something, but hesitates, his gaze boring into mine.

  “Do you need somewhere to stay tonight?” I ask quietly.

  “Err, yeah, it’s okay. I’ll call Laura.”

  Ah, he must have a girlfriend. How can I be so stupid to assume he’s single and maybe slightly interested in me?

  There’s the sound of Zack moving around in the kitchen.

  “I’ll get out of your way so you can call your girlfriend.” I give him a small smile and start to walk away.

  “What?” He sounds baffled. “Girlfriend? Laura is my sister.”

  I can’t even begin to explain the level of relief that floods me at that statement, which is ridiculous because this guy has nothing to do with me.

  “Well, if you can’t stay with her, you can stay here tonight. You can even have the guest room. No need to slum it on the couch.”

  Zack opens the kitchen door wide, suddenly frowning. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

  I slip past him into the kitchen, but I can hear Alex’s response.

  “My mum’s chucked me out.”

  “Fuck, what for?”

  “Had a disagreement with Doug before I left tonight. He told her I hit him.”

  “Shit. Did you?”

  He lets out a deep sigh. “No. He tried to hit me. I gave him a push to stop him. Fuck! I need to call my sister and see if I can crash on her floor.” The frustration is clear in his tone.

  My heart is breaking for him. His voice is gravelly and I can sense the emotion he’s bottling up, even from the next room. I want to soothe him. I try to busy myself, pulling some Coke from the fridge. I open one for myself and then grab two more for the guys.

  “I heard Mum say you can stay here. Why don’t you do that tonight and then speak to your sister in the morning?”

  “You sure that’s okay?” There’s a hint of relief in his question.