"Hey, hey, hey. It's your favourite person, and I'm bringing food. Get your bum downstairs while it's still hot," Zaire shouted up the stairs, then proceeded to slam every cupboard door in the kitchen.

I needed to get his spare key off him and tell my mum to stop handing it back. I grabbed my dressing gown and wrapped it tight around myself. A quick peek in the mirror before I left told me I should think about making more of an effort in the day, but it was Zaire and he had seen me looking far worse.

I ran my fingers through my hair as I traipsed down the stairs. I leaned against the door frame and stared at the scene unfolding before my eyes. Zaire had every cupboard and drawer open, and his head was deep within the confines of our fridge. The place looked a mess.

"Make yourself at home. What are you doing?"

His head snapped up, and he grinned. "Making dinner? Well, putting it out. Where's the orange juice?"

I marched over to him and pointed to the half-empty carton on the bottom door shelf.

"Ah, thanks. Have I got a treat in store for you. Nana Jossy's home. I have all our favourites on the counter." He rubbed his hands together and beamed. I laughed along. How couldn't I? He was all rainbows and sunshine.

"What's got into you? Why are you so happy?"

"Do I need a reason to be happy?" He grabbed my waist and started dancing around the kitchen, twirling me around every so often then pulling me back to him. "And you Miss Leighton are coming out with me tonight. But first, we eat. Sit, sit. I'll get everything ready."

"Oh, I don't know. I don't feel well." My chest tightened at the thought of leaving the comfort of my house. Last time we met up outside these four walls, I hadn't dealt with it well. Saffron's birthday was too much, and my usual coping mechanisms hadn't helped. And then there was the issue of possibly bumping into Matt. Why had I slept with someone Zaire worked with? I never let one-night stands get to me, but I hadn't stopped thinking about the other night.

"Nonsense. You need a wash, and some good food in your belly, and you'll be fine. You've been cooped up for three weeks now. You're coming out with me and that's the end of it." Zaire peeled the lids off the leftover containers.

My stomach gurgled as the smell of plantain fritters and beef stew hit my nostrils. "I don't want to go back to the bar," I said in a weak voice and scraped my nail along the kitchen table.

He set some cutlery down and turned around to grab some glasses. "I'm finally taking a well-deserved day off so we're not going to the bar." He placed a heaped spoon of boiled rice onto my plate and spooned a smaller amount of beef stew over it.

Ripping a fritter in half, I sighed and took in the amount of food in front of me. Zaire sat down, his elbows on the table and his hands together. He mumbled a small prayer to himself and shoved a large forkful into his mouth. I avoided his piercing gaze by looking at everything but at him. Worry gnawed at me as I over-thought reasons I shouldn't leave the house.

"My parents aren't here and they don't like not knowing where I am."

Zaire swallowed and scratched his forehead. "Stop with the excuses. They're aware I'm here. Honestly, it was your dad's idea to get you out of the house." He waved his fork. "Now, eat something."

I pushed some stew around my plate and huffed. Zaire nudged my arm and nodded to the food. It looked amazing, and I was hungry, but the tightness in my throat made everything that passed my lips hard to swallow. I offered him a slight smile and bit into the fritter I held.

***

Zaire lay on my bed, his legs crossed at his ankles, as I held up some dresses and top options for our night out.

"Not that one. I like the yellow dress on you."

"Yellow? It's too bright. What about this one?" I pulled out a black skater style dress with small cherries and placed it against my chest.

"Are you off to a funeral? Enough with the black. Go for some colour," he said while scrolling through his phone. He smiled brightly at his screen and I shook my head as I stared at the scrap of fabric in my hand.

"It has bright red cherries on it. That should count." I threw the dress to the back of my wardrobe and huffed. "Gah, you sound just like Saf. There's nothing wrong with black. Not when it looks good on me."

I stilled at the mention of my best friend. When would it get easier to talk about her in casual conversations? Why couldn't I get over it? Maybe I should take Mum up on some extra therapy sessions before I buried myself further in all this pain and guilt. I scratched at my arm as I let a wave of nausea pass over me.

"Are you coming on to me?" Zaire laughed, deflecting from my sudden panic.

I picked up the nearest pair of jeans and chucked them straight at his face. "You wish." I crouched down to reach the furthest corner of the wardrobe and found a relatively new rust coloured jumper, scrunched on the floor. "What about this? With the light denim jeans I threw at you?"

"Nice and not black, so bonus. Light enough you won't cook in the house."

"I'll pop a thin top underneath in case I want to take it off." I grabbed my jeans off his lap and ran to the en-suite to change. "You've yet to tell me where we are going," I shouted through the door.

"Oh–, just some house party. No one you know."

"Why does it sound like I do?" I sprayed a generous amount of dry shampoo into my hair and brushed the messy bob into a ponytail. Wavy, unruly strands slipped out the sides and framed my face.

"Suspicious! Just trust me. We'll have fun. Come on, we're already late." Zaire jumped up from my bed, grabbed his keys and phone and was already out my bedroom door.

I scrambled around my room for a decent pair of comfortable shoes, popped some mascara on and swiped a dusky pink lip gloss wand over my lips.

Running down to the car, I pulled my phone out of my small shoulder bag and dialled my mother's number.

She answered the call as I climbed into the backseat of Zaire's car. "Hey honey, everything okay?"

"Yeah, Mum. I'm off out with Zaire so won't be in when you get home. I didn't want you to worry."

"Your dad already rang. I'm glad you agreed to go out. Enjoy your night. I love you."

"Love you too."

The brief drive to the house party was uneventful. Zaire avoided answering any questions about the location we were heading to, and I realised why when we turned down a familiar street. My first clue should have been when we drove past 'The Basement' but I only caught on when he parked up outside the house Matt had taken me home to.

***

"Seriously, Zaire! Why didn't you just say we were going to Matt's?" I whined as I slid further back into my seat, refusing to exit his car. My stomach tightened the entire drive but sat outside Matt's house, the knot in my stomach worsened.

"Because of this reaction. I knew you wouldn't come along if I told you." He twisted his body round and stared me down. "You need to get out more and the people in there are fun. The kind of fun we both need. So suck it up, Buttercup."

"It will get awkward and I make a point of avoiding awkward. He was a quick screw to pass the time, and I didn't think I would face him again." My scalp prickled with shame and a light dose of lust as I recalled my night with Matt.

"Maybe you should have thought of the fact I work with him before you screwed him." Zaire climbed out of the car, opened my door and grabbed my hand. "Come on, Matt hasn't stopped talking about you," he added and winked.

My cheeks heated at his comment. "I fucking hate you right now."

"Shut up, you love me," he laughed, unlocked the boot of the car and pulled out a small crate of beer.

I ran my palms down my jeans as we waited for someone to open the door. The longer we waited outside, the harder it was to fight the urge to run back to the car and hide. I kept my gaze to the floor and pushed a fallen leaf around with my foot.

"Welcome to the party!" Matt greeted, bracing his forearm on the doorframe. We held each other's gaze for a moment, causing my heart to skitter. His amber eyes did a slow and sinful sweep of my body.

He looked even better in the late afternoon glow. In a simple white fitted T-shirt and black jeans, he was utterly delectable. The muscles in his arms flexed as he moved to grip the wood, and I pictured him using the same pressure to hold my waist.

"You look gorgeous." Matt scratched his dark stubble, breaking eye contact.

"Aww, thanks, Man. It's my new jeans," Zaire laughed and thrust the crate of beer into his chest as he strolled into the house. Matt rolled his eyes and followed after him.

My mouth turned dry as I placed one foot into the hallway and glanced into the open living room door.

This wasn't a party, but an intimate get together. I walked into the room to find Zaire perched on the armrest of the armchair Cece sat in. On the three-seater sofa, a couple were in deep conversation, gazing into each other's eyes, and Matt was nowhere to be seen.

All conversations died as I approached the group. I made my way towards CeCe to introduce myself, but before doing so, I mouthed a "you'll pay" to Zaire.

"Hey, I don't know if you remember me from 'The Basement' but I'm Trixie." I held my hand out, but CeCe stood up and wrapped her arms around me.

"Of course, I do. I feel like I know you already. Zaire won't stop talking about you. Although, he's never called you Trixie." She looked down at Zaire, who shook his head and chuckled.

"Oh, yeah. He probably won't either," I let out a nervous laugh and scanned the room again, waiting for Matt to come back in. "You have an amazing voice. I wanted to tell you that night, but–"

CeCe placed her hand on my arm and smiled. "Zaire told me for you. I am so glad you liked it. It's so nerve-wracking going up there, but I can't imagine doing anything else."

"You really couldn't tell."

A secondary door in the living room swung open and Matt strolled into the room with two beer bottles in his hands. "I wondered when you'd be back." He passed a bottle to Zaire and took a large swing out of his. "Couldn't resist me, could you?" he said with a lopsided grin and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Pfft, I'm only here because I was promised a party and some fun." I grabbed the beer out of Zaire's hand and necked half of it. "You're driving us home." I pointed the neck of the bottle at him.

"If I remember correctly, we have a lot of fun together." Matt ran his cold beer bottle down my arm as he walked past and sat on the sofa. He patted the space next to him and slung his arm over the backrest, waiting for me to join him. "Don't worry, more are coming. Sit with me, Trixie."

"Well, I'll get my own drink then," Zaire semi-huffed and stood to make his way to the kitchen. CeCe shortly followed after him.

I sat down, keeping enough space between Matt and myself to not be in the crook of his arm. Matt repeatedly twisted his hand around the top of his beer bottle and lowered his gaze to the floor. His knee bounced up and down and if I didn't know any better, I would think Matt was nervous sat next to me.

"Oh, yeah. How rude of me. Trixie, have you met Freddie, my roommate, and his girlfriend Liv?" Matt motioned to the couple on the other end of the sofa and I offered them a small wave when they looked up.

With my eyes fixed on the side of Matt's face, I fought the urge to thread my fingers into his thick hair or run my hand across his jaw. "So, is it true you've been talking about me with Zaire?" The words slipped out of my mouth before I had a chance to think.

Matt's head snapped up, and he tilted it to the side. "You're a funny one, Trixie." He covered the hand I rested on my lap with his after placing his beer bottle between his thighs. "I like it. And yes, I might have asked him about you and hoped he'd bring you here tonight."

"Why? You don't even know me," I blurted out, scrunching my nose up. I sounded confused, but warmth spread through me and I buzzed with excitement at his words. I tried to squash the feeling down, but a side of me allowed the low flame to burn in the pit of my stomach.

"Well, you told me not to call you so that made it difficult to ask you myself." He glanced over at his roommate. "Can we go somewhere private for a chat?"

I looked up at him through my lashes and nodded. Before we escaped, the doorbell rang. Matt sighed, giving my hand a small squeeze. "I'll be right back. Don't move."

***