Chapter 18

Josh takeshis proposal warmups seriously. And I mean super seriously. I watch him in admiration – a voyeur at the breakfast bar as he does his fierce stomach crunches, loving how he twists his torso with every crunch. I sip my tea, and I get now why Tiff is so generous with the Rocky theme whenever she's around him. Makes sense. He even does the one arm push-ups with the jump in the middle. I mean that's hardcore. No wonder he's such an Adonis.

Maybe I should take up aerobics. I could have done a more impressive sprint in heels last night if I'd practiced on Josh's treadmill. I mean, I milk the pelvic floor to hell, but aerobics have never really been my bag.

"Come on over," he says as he wipes his forehead between exercises. "We can do a joint workout."

"I'll be pants. I was blessed with this body, I inherited it from Mum. From genetics, not effort."

He shakes his head. "You always under appreciate yourself. You told me how you worked your butt off at your store job. Pulling trolleys full of stock, the crouch and rises of restocking shelves. You think that comes easy?"

I think back to it, of pulling the pallet deliveries around the warehouse, and refilling the top shelves at lightning speed.

"Alright," I say, and join him.

"Give your body a good shake first," he says. "Like this."

He shows me how to kick my legs out and shake my arms, then some stretches, touching my toes then up, arms above my head. He nods, encouraging as he watches me, and I have to grin.

"You're a personal trainer in an alternate reality, you know."

"Not in an alternate reality. Until Tiff found The Agency, I was one."

"For real?"

"Yep, for my local gym. Did a bit of lifeguarding as well at their swimming pool."

I realise then just how little I really know about my boyfriend. He's a listener more than a talker. Quite the opposite of Connor, who gave a constant monologue on his future music career.

"I bet people pretended to drown, just so you'd dive in and rescue them."

He laughs. "One woman did it every Saturday morning. I quite enjoyed it. Call me a show off."

"Or a saviour."

He gives me a kettle bell, and shows me how to use it, long and steady swings with my legs bent. He corrects my position as I go, and I surprise myself. I can do a fair few of them.

Lunges, yeah, I can do those. Sit-ups, not actually so bad. Then he gives me pair of hand weights and shows me how to fake punch, left foot forward.

I haven't got much force with the punches though, and he folds his arms.

"Do it, Ells, give it some grit. You've got this."

"Alright."

I summon some fuel to spur me on and get my blood flowing, and that's easy peasy. I picture Connor's pity-me face when he told me he was leaving me for Carly. His outrageous justification as he proudly declared that little redhead Carly had contacts in the music industry. What an absolute prick. I'm glad I never met her, flirty little redhead. I imagine their two smiley faces together and then I punch the air like I mean it this time, stretching my arms right out as I step into the footwork. Take that, assholes. Take this one right on the chin for flinging your I've got contacts hooks, cow. And a side hook for you, you worthless wanker.

"What a U-turn," Josh says. "Go steady, Ells, or you'll do your triceps in."

I puff out a breath. "I'm using Connor and the lyinglittle bitch he left me for as inspiration."

"In that case, definitely take it easy. You'll do in your shoulder rotator cuff as well."

"Maybe I was a boxer in a past life, huh?" I shoot him a couple of fake punches.

"Yeah, might be a good skill to have, since you're being fake abducted for a living."

I flash him a grin. "Not sure User 706 would have found it quite so horny if he'd dragged me out from under the bed and got a left jab and right hook."

I see his eyes light up, and I wonder then if Amy was a talker, not a listener, just like Connor was.

"I like this," I tell him. "Will you be my personal trainer? I'll pay you by trying to take a boot in my pussy." I laugh. "Actually, that's a lie, that'll be my pleasure as well as yours."

"I'll be your personal trainer all day long for free. It's nice to share it with someone. Tiff hates it, she gives me the side eye if I ever suggest it, then slaps her ass, saying she wouldn't want to ruin her assets."

I can see her tongue poke in my mind. Hear her cackle.

"Let me do something for you, at least," I say.

"Sing the Rocky theme when I'm on the treadmill, how's that sound?"

"It'll sound bloody awful," I laugh.

"Go on… I bet you can really sing."

"No, no. Last time I sang, the RSPCA turned up, searching for a dying cat. I want to do something serious."

Josh laughs again. Fuck, he's gorgeous.

I wrack my brain for a moment, then remember how attentive he was when I got back home last night, knackered and hungry. I was grateful beyond words for the breakfast he made for me. I could cook for him today… or I could try. An actual meal, not some pasta with a stir in sauce, or a microwave heated pizza.

I remember Daddy's delicacy. Chicken casserole. It can't be that difficult. I pick up my phone and search for a recipe as Josh resumes his exercises.

Nope, doesn't look that hard at all.

"Be right back," I say. "Just nipping to the store."

"The store? There's plenty of stuff in the cupboards."

"How about celery, thyme and parsley? Are they in the cupboards?"

He raises an eyebrow. "You might have me there. What do you have up your sleeve?"

I tap my nose. "A surprise."

His eyes light up again, his grin so beautifully genuine.

"You're going to cook for us?"

He sounds surprised, and I don't blame him. I'm hardly chef material, and he's done all the cooking so far. I've only chopped a bit of garlic.

"Yeah, I'm going to cook for us. I want you well nourished for your proposal later."

He looks like he's shocked, and I get it. My chicken casserole might be shit, but I can practice. Mum's a great cook, so maybe I've inherited some of that talent as well as my looks.

"Amy never cooked," Josh says. "I always made the meals, and first of all she was grateful, giving me all the yum, you're the best ever while she munched away, but after a while it got standard. She'd scroll through her phone while I was cooking, and scroll through her phone while she was eating, too." He pauses. "It'd be lovely to have a meal made for me, thank you."

I want to hug him so fucking bad, selfish cow.

It only spurs me on. I take a quick shower and throw on a t-shirt and leggings, then I'm off to the local store. At least I know how to navigate one. Chicken, carrots, celery, parsley, mushrooms, butter, cream… all in my basket. Lemon. Thyme. Garlic. Flour. I check the recipe to make sure I've got everything. Yep, got it.

I'm going to make the best meal for him I possibly can.

"Don't watch me," I say when I start preparing the meal. "I want to make it a surprise."

"I can help," he says, but I shake my head.

"No, chill out. Enjoy yourself. Watch Rocky and put your feet up. Get your butt on the sofa and relax."

"Talking of sofas," he says, and props himself on an elbow at the breakfast bar. "I was thinking. Rather than letting that piece of shit Richard wreck your dreams, why don't you keep the items you ordered to furnish your new apartment? We can shift things around in here to accommodate them."

"I've cancelled a load of them," I say. "Don't worry, I'll wait until I get a place again. I'll have my flash brocade sofa one day. I've been browsing apartments online. There are plenty that won't involve Richard wanker Jacobs."

He takes my hand and runs his thumb across my knuckles, and his green eyes dig into mine.

"You're more than welcome to stay here. I've worked out where we can have your sofa. We can side angle mine and have yours right there." He gestures to the spot.

A warm glow flows through me at his words, at what he might be inferring…

I shake my head. "That's lovely, Josh, but you don't have to invite me in long term, and you definitely don't have to accommodate my sofa."

Shit. I so want to wrap my arms around his neck and say thanks.

"I don't have to, Ells. I want to. There's a very big difference. The question is, do you want to stay?"

Oh fuck, his eyes. They bore into my very soul. Even if I try to play it down, he'd see right through me, so I take a breath, and squeeze his hand.

"I'd love to stay, thank you."

His grin lights up my whole world.

"Phew, thank fuck for that. I'd be devastated to have you so much as a single tube stop away."

"Yeah, well, same goes. Tit for tat." I look at him in wonder. "Thank you. Really. Thanks"

"No, thank you. I didn't realise how lonely I'd become until you came along. You're like the piece of a jigsaw I've been missing, only I didn't even know I'd been missing one. It isn't about Amy, either. It's about you. About us. It feels like a whole different jigsaw entirely."

My stomach flutters, because I feel the same. Being here feels like home already. I even know where to put the parsley and thyme in his kitchen.

"You don't have to house the sofa, though." I grin at him. "I've already cancelled it."

He shows me the screen on his phone. "Yeah, I know, but I found it. It's pretty distinctive in black and gold."

He clicks buy as I watch him.

"Josh!" I say, but it's done. The green tick comes up. Order completed.

"You're welcome, baby. You can have as many sofas here as you want."

I race around the breakfast bar, throw my arms around his neck, and press myself against his sweaty, hot torso, with a lump in my throat. Gratitude, love, security. All the things I've been missing for years, even though I didn't know it. They were just faded versions of dreams. Fake, and fed to me on a cheap, crappy spoon.

The three words come straight off my tongue now, even though they are choked up.

"I love you."

"What?" he says, his mouth up against my ear as he holds me tight.

"You heard me," I whisper, pulling away to look him in the eyes.

His smile melts me.

"I know, I just want to hear you say it again."

I laugh, on a high, happiness filling my very soul.

"I love you, Josh."

The beautiful man in front of me kisses my lips so gently, the prince of romance as his breaths match mine.

"I love you too, Ella."

We stay entangled for a long moment, and I feel my heart singing. I belong with him. I belong here. I feel more at home in his presence than I've ever known.

He strokes my hair, and caresses my arm, and I count my lucky stars, grateful beyond words that the universe has been so kind to me – taking Connor out of my life and giving me something better than I could ever imagine.

Josh is the man of my wildest, craziest dreams.

The hurt and pain of my past betrayal get slammed under the trapdoor of bullshit where they belong. I lock it closed for good. Farewell and goodbye. I don't need to feel them again, not anymore. And Josh doesn't need to feel the same about his past, either. We're in it together, for good.

"I'll start moving some stuff around in this place for when yours starts arriving," he says, and I hug him so tight, I'd crush him, if he wasn't made of steel.

"Thanks," I say. "And I'll get started on our casserole."

He claps his hands as I head back to the chef station.

"You're making casserole? I fucking love casserole. It's one of my absolute favourites."

"Damnit." I roll my eyes. "So much for the surprise. I just hope it lives up to your expectations."

"It will," he says, and gives me a wink.

"You're biased." I giggle. "It could taste of dog turd, and you'd still think it was marvellous."

"Nah, baby. That's bullshit. The only one who ever doubts yourself is you."