Not My Fantasy Read online

  “Thanks,” I said drily.

  Tess said with a frown. "Sorry, but you know–”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’m aware I’m punching above my weight. I’m just waiting for this damn curse to wear off. He’s sounding like he wants to . . . go somewhere with this.”

  “Ash, if I'd known."

  "It's OK, I worked it out, the spell. Nan's trying to get me married off. Don't know why they're coming from your pop culture playlist, but the spell is bringing a suite of suitors through my life, every day until I picked one to–"

  "Fuck the shit out of you. Hey, Flea." Jez waved to the tattooist as he walked in. His eyes went a little wide as he saw he had the attention of all three of us.

  "Smile and wave, boys, smile and wave," I muttered through clenched teeth.

  “You're trying to tell me your Nan, with her dying wish, cast a spell to marry you to one of literature's hotties? I thought it was just some weird ‘I really need to get laid’ glitch. Goddamn, I have never wanted a grandmother more than right now."

  "Tess, I need that book," I said. She pulled a paperback from her back pocket and slapped it into my palm. 'Renegade of Love' it read, 'is he too much for her to handle?' I was beginning to wonder that myself.

  Merlin poofed into the shop as we drank our coffees. Mine was perfect, of course, latte with a shot of caramel. "But that's what you always drink," Tess said.

  "I know."

  "Did you tell him?"

  "Nope. Hey, Merlin, wanting to make an entrance today?"

  "Hmm? Ah yes, I left a lock on the portal, I was a bit concerned. Are those baked goods?"

  "Yeah, you want a Danish?"

  He picked up an apple custard lattice and took a tentative bite, his face transforming as he tasted it. "Ye gods, I love blessed Albion the most, but there are times when I consider emigrating to other realms and this is one of them. How did the unruly Normans and Saxons come up with such ambrosia? Well, ladies, I thought we might try some conjuring today. It will be a little physical but–"

  "Count me out," I said. "I'm not down with that today, but Tess is looking forward to doing a bit of whoo whoo."

  "Why would you not be 'down with this?' Did you not summon me for the sole purpose of teaching you the arts of sorcery?"

  "I'm a bit sore–"

  “She was up all night fucking a dude from a book with a monster cock, so she’s feeling a bit sensitive, y’know, in the vag,” Jez said.

  The bright-green eyes swivelled over in my direction. They roamed over my body, looking for God knows what. He flicked his hand, conjuring a small screw top container before passing it to me. "This should cure your condition. Apply internally, you may need the aid of a pessary. I'll see you in the back room." He stalked into the back room, Tess following at a respectful five paces behind.

  "Did Merlin the magician just give me twat salve?" I asked.

  "I do believe he did. Just think, you'll have a magical muff. I wonder if it’s something he . . . requires on a regular basis?"

  "You reckon he's packing more meat than a stockyard? I so don't want to know if he's got a mighty sceptre or a teeny tiny wand under the robes."

  "I think I want to know. I mean he's Merlin, I'm a witch; it’s something you have to find out if you can. Pretty sure your sister wants to suck his staff."

  "Wank his wand?"

  "Sex his sceptre! No, that doesn't quite work. So, biker boy, what we are we talking? Foot-long or six-inch sub?"

  "Not crazy long but definitely long enough."

  "So, what's the ish?"

  "Let's just say there's some Coke cans feeling pretty inadequate right now."

  "What! Really? Well, fuck, honey, you’d better find out the recipe for this salve shit."

  16

  "Taste it, see if you have conjured it correctly."

  I looked at the cream-covered coffee I’d just produced out of thin air by doing something that felt like Tai Chi and grimaced. It sat with the twenty others I’d previously created, all looking warm, sweet and delicious. I picked it up slowly, at least it felt like it was the right temperature. I gave the cream a sniff. It smelled like fresh, sugary whipped cream. "Just drink it," Merlin snapped. Tess stood by him, sipping yet another drink. All of hers had come out perfect. I brought the cup to my mouth.

  "Bleurrgh!" I said, spitting it out in a spray. "Oh, my God, I–" I pawed at my tongue, trying to make the horrid taste out of my mouth. The cream had come out right this time, but the coffee tasted like it was made from mouldy, old, burnt grounds. "Why the hell are we doing this again?"

  "You don’t have time to learn the language to manipulate your portal, so you need some catalyst to activate the spells I leave on it. A simple gesture like a wave of a hand that could be done easily could lead to the portal opening at an undesirable time. Tess impressed upon me why this would be problematic. You are learning to activate a spell through a set of complex movements, so then you’ll be able to complete the movements you need to activate the portal,” Merlin said.

  "Not doing a very good job of it."

  "No, it is something your sister and Jez are finding much easier. Did you apply the salve?"

  "Yes!"

  "Sufficiently high inside, otherwise–"

  "Seriously, stop! Just stop!" I took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "It's nearly five, you guys keep going. I'll reconcile the till . . . and stuff."

  "Want to be waiting when lover boy turns up?" Jez asked with a grin.

  "No, I want to go home and have a long hot bath."

  I emerged out into the shop, struck by the golden evening light coming in the front window after spending most of the day in the storeroom. I opened the till and counted it out. A few people had come to buy some semi-precious stones, there were a few book sales, so it was up slightly, but not by much. I forced myself to go through the motions, steadily and methodically, but my head snapped up, a smile already spreading across my face when I heard the door jingle. It fell when I saw it was just Flea. “How’d you do today?” he asked, settling against the counter.

  “More than yesterday, so that’s a plus.”

  “Business’ll pick up. We’re having a grand opening in a week, that’s sure to bring you guys a lot of attention.”

  I gave him a wary smile, “You think people who want a tattoo want to also buy crystals and smudge sticks to cleanse their auras?”

  He snorted at this, “No, but you saw Amber, we both deal with people who are a bit alternative, who are looking for other ways of being. I think there’s a lot of room for cross-marketing, seriously.”

  I shrugged, “We can only hope.”

  “Do you mind me giving you some advice?”

  “Sure.”

  “Get more of the clothes and jewellery lines going. Our stuff tends to be a bit more butch, but a lot of girls come in our doors. If you can get them in, you’ve got a whole new market.” I nodded, thinking. Jez would have a shit fit, she hated the whole stereotypical ‘witchy’ fashion that got sold around the city. “Alright, I’ll be back in, in the morning.”

  “We won’t be. It’s Saturday, but you’ve got keys, so you’re all good,” I said.

  “Catch you Monday then.”

  I watched him walk out the door, then locked it. I looked out at the car parks in front of the shop; they were all empty, not a black Harley Davidson in sight. He's not coming, I realised and a tension I'd been unconsciously holding all day released, leaving me feeling sore and kind of rubbery. I shook my head at expecting anything less. I went back to the counter, squared the money away and started polishing the glass with a soft cloth, trying to lose myself in the repetitive, meaningless movement.

  "You still here?" Jez asked, coming out to the front and picking up her bag. It was now after six and the sun was well and truly setting.

  "Uh, yeah," I said.

  "Well, my couch is calling me. See you Monday."

  "See you."

  "Ash."

  "What?"
<
br />   "He'll turn up."

  "It's cool, have a well-deserved break."

  "Ash, I can stay."

  "I'm fine, really. Is Tess ready? I so wanna go home."

  She wasn't. I walked in on Merlin correcting her movement slightly. It looked very cosy. He was talking her through what she'd done wrong, both of them chuckling when she tried again and stumbled. There was something going on here, it occurred to me. She'd been quiet, I assumed because of the disappointment around the delay in portal travel. Watching them, I saw it for the first time. She wasn't on edge or pulling away from his touch, he'd done it enough that they were comfortable with each other. Yet, when she clarified what she was supposed to, moving partially through the sequence, they couldn’t seem to hold the other’s gaze. Their eyes met, flicked away and met again. I saw her look up at him through her lashes, a shy smile spreading across her face.

  “Tess." Her eyes snapped to me, her body going stiff. He dropped his hands away. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to head home, I'm dead."

  "Go, I want to keep trying. I think I've nearly nailed the gnome realm movement."

  "But, how will you get home?"

  "I can see your sister home safely," Merlin said.

  Of course, he could traverse space and time, travelling three suburbs over was no biggie. “Right, well I’ll see you at Mum and Dad’s tomorrow morning.” Tess nodded, though her eyes were back on Merlin, his hands were back on her shoulders, helping her to lean to her left, then twist. I shook my head and headed out.

  17

  The car felt strangely empty on the drive. I'd been giving Tess a lift since Nan died. We usually left earlier, beat the worst of the traffic and talked shit the whole time. But this time I was stuck, all alone, in the turgid flow of peak hour. It took me almost forty-five minutes to get home, plenty of time to think. I was jerked from my daze by the roar of a motorbike tearing along the lane line. My heart started to race and I looked over at it, hoping to see something familiar. Instead, a ubiquitous black-helmeted guy on a sleek Japanese bike whizzed past to the annoyance of car drivers. I cursed myself for being so dopey and shoved my back hard against the car seat, wrapping my fingers tight around the steering wheel.

  My brain was ticking over, had been since this morning. This was a very new experience, something I was completely unprepared for. Really, I would have preferred Tess rode the Merlin train to work, so I could hole up in the flat and try to get my head together. I needn't have bothered, I guessed. Gabe had obviously shaken off the curse and wasn’t interested in coming to see me. I inched further to the mouth of the intersection, then hissed out a long breath as I watched the train of cars on my right leading way back, looking for an opening and not finding one.

  I didn’t like the start of something with a guy much. Other people love the excitement, the newness. Me, I liked it when I had my partner’s measure when I was starting to feel secure in whether or not I could trust him. Up until that point, I was an awkward mess. How was I supposed to act? What was reasonable behaviour? What were his expectations? What were mine? The questions would swirl so persistently in my head I found it hard to think of anything else. I didn’t like someone taking that much of my mental energy.

  I sternly tried to stop the Gabe train of thought as I stomped up the stairs to my place. It felt empty here, too. I stopped off at the bedroom, saw the mess of rumpled sheets and clothes on the bed, smelt the faint whiff of motor oil and sandalwood then hightailed it to the bathroom to shower. The smell was still there when I came back to get dressed. I opened the window a crack, despite the fact the temperature was starting to drop and yanked the sheets off the bed, stuffing them in the washing machine. I sprayed some lemon myrtle room freshener and felt a bit better. I went into the kitchen, filled the sink full of water and dumped the morning dishes in it to soak. I did a quick scan of the flat. It was empty still, but now, I felt I had reasserted my place in it. It was mine, wholly and solely.

  I ended up sitting in front of the TV with a pizza I’d had delivered, feeling the ache starting to leave my muscles and a sense of calm familiarity reasserting itself. Last night was fun, but that was all it was. I was back to my regular scheduled programming. An hour or so later I had a notebook out, playing around with some text for an ad for the shop. We hadn’t really done much advertising, assuming Nan’s clients would be ours. Then there was a knock on the door. I frowned, getting to my feet. When I looked through the peephole, my heart started racing from a dead start and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.

  “Hey, babe.”

  I opened the door and there he was. He obviously thought he was pretty sexy, standing in my doorway, hip cocked, looking at me with bleary eyes. He still smelled like motor oil; that and beer. I looked at my watch. It was after eight o’clock; I was ready for bed and the window where I was in the mood for this had well and truly gone.

  “Look, Gabe–”

  “I’m sorry I’m late! One of the guys had a carton on and then one thing led to another. The clutch is moving smooth as silk now.”

  “That’s awesome–”

  “C’mon, let me in. I’m dying to get inside and y’know, get inside. . . .”

  I placed a hand on his chest as he tried to move past me. It showed how drunk he must have been, that I could stop him without too much effort. God, I hoped he’d taken a taxi.

  “Baby,” he said, eyes fixing on me, a slow, drunk smile spreading. “Baby, let me in. I’ll make it so good, you know I will. It’ll be like last night–”

  “Gabe . . . Gabe! Look, tonight’s not a good night. I’m tired, I hurt in places I didn’t know I could hurt in and all I want to do is sleep.”

  “We could–”

  “Alone. Look, we can do this another night, OK?”

  His eyes narrowed at this and his jaw jerked up. His face all of a sudden looked hard. I almost shut the door right there and then, a frisson of fear spiking in my belly. I knew nothing about this guy, nothing about his temper, what he was like drunk.

  “That right? Maybe there won’t be another night.”

  “OK, well, that’s your decision.”

  “Seriously?” his eyes roamed over my face. “We got it so good and you just want to throw it all away, 'cos I came home late?”

  Right. Anger flared hard in my chest and I took one breath, then another before speaking. I spoke my words carefully and precisely. “I’m not asking you to leave because you came here late, or even because you are drunk. I don’t know you, I don’t know anything about you. Apart from how you fuck and that you inexplicably know how I like my coffee. This is not revenge, me playing games, or any other stupid, manipulative trick. I’m tired, really, really tired. We got very little sleep last night and I’ve been at work all day. I’ll admit, I was worried about you a little when you didn’t show. I didn’t know if you were OK, or whether something had happened to you on your bike. . . . I also felt weird because I didn’t know if I had a right to feel that way. This could have been a one-night thing. That’s a lot of thinking and it’s just . . . exhausting.”

  He lifted a big, oil-stained hand to touch me, then let it fall again when I pulled back. The tension had leached out of his body and he looked beat, too. He stared into my eyes for a moment or two, seeing God knows what and then said, “You want me to go? I’ll go. I’m not coming in unless it’s what you want.”

  “That’s great–”

  “But what if we just slept?”

  “What, you mean together? Is that even possible?”

  “To tell you the truth, love, I’m pretty damned tired myself. I just need a bed and I’d much prefer it if you were in it. The sex is awesome, but you also smell nice, your bed is comfy and you make this cute little whistling noise–”

  “If you’re going to say I snore, I’d stop while you’re ahead.”

  “Not snore,” he slung an arm over my shoulder and drew me to him, “a whistle. Whaddya say?”

  Yes! Yes! Yes! the angel on my shoulder sa
id. Already she was imagining cosy snuggles, the peace that comes from sleeping beside a friendly body, the warm pressure of them beside you relaxing something that you just didn’t let go of when on your own. The devil reared its ugly head on my other one. Are you so dependent on him so soon? Didn’t you ask him to leave? Are you so weak to just give in at a few nice words? Fictional characters are not the kind of guys to let your guard down for.

  I let out a sigh, “C’mon then. There’s pizza on the coffee table and clean towels in the bathroom.” The door closed behind me and was locked with a snick. Warm, hard arms surrounded me, pulling me close but not pushing against me like last night. I felt like a child, he towered over me, his body a wall of muscle that had wrapped itself around me, shutting out the rest of the world. He dropped a kiss on top of my head and after a while, went silently to shower.

  I went to bed, not willing to sit up any longer and try and make small talk. The sheets felt cool and crisp due to the open window, a little too much so, so I curled up in a ball, trying to warm myself. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to sleep. There had been so much going on today, my mind often refused to let go and relax when it was like this. I heard the rush of the shower, then the pizza box open and then after a while, the fridge door open and close. The bed shifted as he laid down beside me, the blankets moving to let him in. He ran a hand down my back, stopping at my hips, then pulled me towards him, nestling my body in the shadow of his. Warmth flooded me from his damp skin, but true to his word, he didn’t do anything else. I watched the stars out over the rooftops of the houses next door until I dropped off to sleep.

  18

  I woke up late, the morning light flooding into the room, bright and yellow. I stretched out under the covers, listening to my back pop. “Hey,” Gabe said, eyes flicking open.

  “Hey.” The silence should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. I stared into his eyes and he stared back, like we were saying something I didn’t consciously understand. He finally reached over, drawing me close for a kiss, but I baulked. “Morning breath.”