As I was making it my prerogative to check out his kitchen, I heard Zachary's voice calling out to me. I was staring at his near empty fridge; it was a sad sight seeing a half-empty carton of semi-skimmed milk, a jar of peanut butter and what looked like a stick of celery trapped in the plastic bit.
The noise come from the direction of the previously forbidden quarters of his flat were getting too loud to ignore. I dragged myself back out of his sad little kitchen and into the corridor, following the sound of his voice until I stopped beside a door, which I presumed was the bathroom. It had been about twenty minutes since he'd left me to explore his den of inequity â it wasn't anything special.
'What?' I knocked on the door. 'What do you want?'
I could hear the shower running, splashing agains the tiles. Zachary shouted out something, which I failed to understand over the sound of the water.
'Say again?' I said.
The water stopped abruptly.
'Give me a towel,' he growled.
I paused, taking in his words. 'Uh... don't you have one in there?'
'Hmm. Let's have a think about that,' he said slowly, 'If I had one, why would I bother calling out to you?'
I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm. 'Look, smartass, I didn't sign up to be your housemaid. I'm just a guest.'
'Candice, just get the towel.'
'Why didn't you take it in with you?' I continued.
'Sometimes people forget. Besides, what are you worried about? I'm the one in the vulnerable position in here.'
'I have a boyfriend,' I said with force. Then I cringed at myself. Why had I just said something so... stupid? However, I could never be too sure with him â he wasn't exactly innocence personified.
You could never trust someone so roguish.
'Boyfriend schmoyfriend.' He sounded bored. 'Look, we can spend all night arguing about this or you can do as I say. The towel's on the bed. Room at the end of the corridor.'
I scowled at the bathroom door and walked towards his bedroom. Now he was treating me like I was a dog? I guess he was right in more ways than one when he had jokingly called me his 'pet'. I was starting to feel as though Zachary was using and abusing me instead of enjoying my company.
'Some friend,' I grumbled to myself as I grabbed his fluffy white towel from his neatly made bed.
'Best fiend, more like.' I didn't spend too much time in there; it felt weird to enter into his private space. I saw a couple of books on the bedside table and a framed photograph of him and his younger sister Heather posing on a fancy yacht. They looked content, the sunlight creating a halo effect over their heads. I suppose it was touching to see he did have a heart; he loved his sister.
Still, it didn't excuse annoying behaviour and quirks. And trust me, I was usually tolerant of most people, it's just that whenever I was around him, there seemed to be an influx of problems. Things never seemed to go... swimmingly.
As I was walking down the corridor, I heard a silky, baritone, All-American voice singing the most ridiculous song. I couldn't believe that he was singing that particular song from South Pacific!
'I'm gonna wash that gal right outta my hair,
I'm gonna wash that gal right outta my hair,
I'm gonna wash that gal right outta my hair,
And send her on her way.'
'You can't fix an egg when it ain't quite good,
And you can't fix a gal when she's wrong!
You can't put back a petal when it falls
from a flower,
Or sweeten up a lady when she starts turnin' sour...'
'You missed loads of verses, but nice voice,' I scoffed.
'Intentional. I like to simplify,' he called back, 'and thanks. My choirmaster thought so too. But circumstances conspired to stop my school choral career. Probably could have gained a choral scholarship if I wanted to. As I said, I was kicked out...'
I took in his words, blinking in surprise. He had been a part of a choir? He didn't really fit that angelic choir boy stereotype, but maybe this had been when he was younger.
'You can't light a fire when the woods are wet...' he continued. 'Candice, show's over. Pass me my towel.'
I stared stupidly at the door. 'What now?'
'If a gal don't understand you,
if you fly on separate beams,
waste no time, make a change,
ride that woman right off your rangeâ'
'All right, all right! Shut up!' I despaired of him. Despite his overly meaningful (or meaningless) performance, I was laughing a little.
I gathered myself and gulped. Now was the time. 'I'm going in. Brace yourself.' I was determined to face my best fiend head on.
'I haven't got tentacles, you know. Testicles, yes,' he chuckled. 'I promise you, I'm all man...'
'I didn't want to risk flashing you when I walked down the corridor. And I didn't want you to run out on me just when you arrived here. I'm surprised that you even agreed to this. I know how much you enjoy my companyâ' he was saying as I ventured into the misty bathroom.
The mirror was fogged and their was a small window above toilet. It was nothing like my bathroom. It was neat for one; there wasn't a sign of hair products or odds and ends.
I was grateful the glass on the shower cubicle was frosted, so all I could see was his outline, but nothing more. I would have killed him otherwise.
'Here you go! Fresh towel delivery,' I gritted my teeth.
He slid the door a couple of inches, and I caught a glimpse of his tanned, lightly muscled bicep, and I shrieked.
'Any louder and my eardrums would have been ruptured...' he remarked. 'Lovely!' He held out his hand out and I shoved it at him, preparing to make a dash for the door. Jonny would have been turning in his coach at home if he knew where I was at that moment. I had messaged him saying that I would contact him later that evening. It looked like that our plans were scrapped as a result of my secret rendezvous with Zachary.
'Candice!' I heard him call out.
'No!' I pointed my index finger at him even though couldn't see me. 'No, no, no! No more demands!'
He laughed. 'I'm not used to entertaining guests. Platonic ones, that is. I thought I was doing okay so far...'
I slammed the door.
* * *
As he had told me to make myself at home, I took the liberty to scour his cupboards and see if he had any refreshments on offer. Again, there wasn't much in the way of sustenance in the bare cupboards (did Zachary actually eat? It would explain why he visited our bakery, in any case!).
As I was starting to wonder if he was a vampire, I stumbled across some cocoa powder, tucked away at the back of the cupboard and alighted upon it like a starved islander. The Island of Dr Malone was not very hospitable for human guests, but at least I had found a Fortnum and Mason's tub of hot chocolate! Hardly believing my luck, I yelped in delight and set to work making us a decent mug of silky smooth hot chocolate. There were no frills in regards to whipped cream and marshmallows but it would do very nicely, I decided.
I set the two cups on his coffee table and happily drank mine, allowing the liquid warmth to travel through me.
'See, Lavender, looks like Mummy found some treasure to satisfy her,' I grinned at my stuffed bear. Midnight stared back at us, unperturbed, as though he knew he was going to be rescued from the feminine influence in the room soon; it was just a question of when his nefarious master would return.
'What has mummy found?' Zachary's tones made my hand shake the cup, allowing some of the liquid to spill over the rim. 'I'd like to know.'
I quickly licked it off the cup before it ruined my white shorts. As he entered the room I noticed he was wearing a loose light blue linen t-shirt, classic cream shorts and buttery-soft brown house slippers. And a rather marvellous, brash, blue, silk dressing gown, an item of clothing which only he could have pulled off. It gave him a louche, playboy quality. Even with his light brown hair tousled and damp, he looked comfortable and at ease like he always did.
I took a moment to take a deep breath. When he was around me, it was difficult to focus on anything but him. His presence was unforgettable. In a room full of people, you might not automatically notice him, but once you did, the world stopped. Time seemed to freeze. He seemed to demand that you pay attention to him. He was bratty. He was difficult. And inextricably, maddeningly, seductively accustomed to getting his own way.
'Drink up and see,' I said quietly. The chocolate was sweet and comforting.
As he tossed Midnight the Bear unceremoniously and uncouthly onto the coach I was sitting on, and settled himself onto the single seater, he couldn't resist adding, 'It isn't poison, right?'
I chuckled lightly. 'Could be, could be.'
Zachary raised the cup in my direction as a toast. 'To you, Slurpy!' He made a disconcertingly creepy slurping sound ala Hannibal. I narrowed my eyes and glared at his criticism of my drinking habits. He didn't deserve my kindness after his behaviour in the shower.
He took a sip and licked his lips. 'You found my secret stash of hot chocolate. I knew you would.'
His expression was congenial, almost intimate; my skin felt very hot and I wasn't entirely sure that it was solely from drinking the hot chocolate.
'Do you like it?' he asked me.
'Very much,' I said. 'I mean, look at me. Don't I look happy?'
'Yes,' he stared at me, a strange smile on his face, as though he was rolling a thought in his head.
I was terribly self conscious under his frank gaze. A part of me knew that we were on shaky ground. He didn't seem to give the appearance of caring; I think he enjoyed the idea of me sitting on his coach drinking his pricy hot chocolate â a novelty.
His gaze on me lingered past the acceptable level of eye contact, deliberately watching me drink from the cup. 'What's so fascinating about me?' I said with a nervous giggle. Did I have something on my face? Or was he trying to psyche me out?
'Everything,' he said, rolling the cup around his palms, perhaps warming his hands or... imagining a scenario. As he looked up at me, his smile said it all. The air was thick with a tension that simmered like the milk I'd heated. It was both irresistible and awful at the same time. I crossed my legs uncomfortably and stared into my cup as though it held all the answers about our strange, puzzling relationship.
'What do you want to do after we've finished our drinks?' he said, breaking the silence.
'It's up to you...' I settled.
'I don't know. The show you like...'
His voice was low, controlled and smooth. I set down my cup on the table, the teaspoon clattered about and I didn't dare look up to see if he noticed that my hand was shaking. A kind of fog came over me as though I was right there in his living room, but somehow not there. It was unreal being alone with him.
'Yeah, I'd like that,' I murmured, looking quickly at him. He was perched at the edge of his seat like he was anticipating a victory of sorts. I was confused and aroused all at once. And that was not a good thing for us both.
As I stumbled up, making an excuse to get away from the situation, I gathered up my cup, intending to visit the kitchen, but I felt the weight of his hand on my shoulder and I almost jumped at his contact.
'Candice! Wait!' he said insistently.
I gabbled, 'Look, it was a mistake to come here. I'm sorryâ I'm sorry for everything.'
It was then I noticed that he wasn't looking at me, but rather below my face, to my shoulder blade. I shivered at he brushed my skin with the pad of his thumb. 'It's not that. You have an itsy bitsy spider on you.' A faint smile toyed at his mouth. 'Looks like a money spider.'
I looked down. When confronted with things that disgusted me, my mouth shaped into a scream. My scream could have given Munch a run for his money. Through his laughter, Zachary managed to swiftly catch it and get rid of the pest, releasing it onto his window ledge.
Frozen in terror, I watched in amazement as he took quick strides towards me and placed his warm, comforting hands on my shoulders, smiling down at me serenely, a touch of mischief in his eyes. Before I had a chance to protest or utter a word, his mouth captured mine in his. The money spider was forgotten to be replaced by the ecstasy of his lips.
_
CREDITS: I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair by Richard Rodgers & Oscar Hammerstein II