Fire and Freedom - Book One of the Café Latte Trilogy

Chapter Twenty-Three - Jasper

CW: graphic sex

Chapter Twenty-Three – Jasper

"Holy shit, he's actually rich! Kinda thought you were exaggerating."

I grinned at Cyri's expression as she circled the flat, her mouth falling open at everything she saw. "It's good, isn't it?"

"It's fucking awesome!" Cyri exclaimed, tentatively walking as though she was going to somehow damage the carpet. "Jesus, this is such a nice place!"

"I know," I laughed at her face. "Make yourself comfortable in the living room, I'll go and make us some tea."

"Coffee for me, please," she breathed, looking around the cream living room. "Are you sure it's wise to be drinking around white furniture? Like, what if you spill something?"

"It's fine," I said dismissively, and then hastily added, "Just be careful, because that's all really expensive stuff and he will absolutely kill me if I ruin it."

Cyri looked around nervously, and then headed towards the kitchen with me. "We'll drink in the kitchen, it's got tiles."

"Good plan," I told her. Cyri looked around in awe as she sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. I saw her sigh in appreciation as I flicked on the under-floor heating, scrunching her up toes.

"Good choice, Jazz," she told me.

I shrugged. "I didn't choose the heating style."

"I meant good choice in Ross," she grinned, and then opened the bag she was carrying, thumping down a load of books on the counter. "What do you want to go over first? You haven't missed much, honestly - but we got our coursework grades for Photography back. I have yours here." She held out an envelope to me.

I blinked, taking it. "I didn't think we were getting our grades for another week."

"Well, you can avoid them if you'd rather not know," Cyri shrugged, handing me a sheet. "I haven't looked, I promise."

"Oh God," I said, glancing at the envelope as I held it at arm's length; getting results scared me more than the exams. "I don't think I can-"

"Can you please keep the noise down?"

I looked over at the other side of the kitchen, as Ross walked through wearing nothing but his underwear. I rolled my eyes; he'd have forgotten that Cyri was coming round. I turned to smile apologetically at her, but caught sight of her staring directly at his arse, which admittedly was excellent. "Cyri," I nudged her, and then told Ross, "It's one in the afternoon, you said I could have people over."

"I know," he groaned, leaning over the counter. "I didn't get in until five and I am extremely hungover. Please can you kill me?"

"A man your age should not be getting home at five in the morning," I teased him, and put the kettle on. "Do you want coffee?"

He looked at me with desperation and happiness mixed in his expression. "That would be amazing."

"Go back to bed, I'll bring it through," I told him, as he leaned on the counter.

He turned my head with his hands and kissed me on the lips slowly, and despite the fact he'd been in bed for hours he just tasted like whiskey. He let me go, whispered 'thank you', and disappeared back in the direction of our bedroom.

"I don't think I've ever met anyone that likes coffee that much," Cyri said, alarmed. "Is he alright?"

I held up my phone, showing her a photo Edward had sent me during his night out with Ross of them both dancing on the bar at Fruits. "I think his liver is cursing the day he was born."