I dropped my curious gaze as Book Boy stepped into the bar. In an attempt to busy myself, I turned and started to clean the spilled grounds from around the coffee machine. The flash of emotion in his eyes made me uncomfortable. Not just because I could see pity there, but because it hinted at a connection between us that felt out of place and unwarranted.

"Come to Daddy," Callum purred as he stood behind me at the cash register. A smile twitched at the corner of my lips as I watched his reflection fidget in the mottled mirror behind the bar. His foot bounced against the floor in excitement. Despite the chatter of the bar, I could hear the metronomic tap of his expensive leather soles as they kissed the worn wooden floorboards.

As I stood with my back to them, Book Boy approached the counter. Callum drummed his fingers on the countertop in anticipation.

"What can I get you?" Callum asked in his best seductive voice. I smirked as he shamelessly flirted. It was one of the things I liked most about him: his confidence.

"A Coke please," Book Boy replied. His voice was rough and distracted.

I chanced a glance up into the mirror and caught his eyes fixed on where I was standing. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I didn't know what had happened, but his sudden intensity was bewildering.

"Anything else?" Callum asked as he typed in the order.

"No, thank you."

"OK then, do you want to pay now? Or I can bring it over..." From the tone of his voice, Callum was keen on the latter.

"I'll wait," Book Boy said abruptly before softening his tone. "Thanks." He finished with a flash of a smile.

Pretending to be busy, I stacked glasses and checked the levels on the spirits as I listened to Callum drop ice cubes into a glass and start to fill it with Coke.

"Christ," he hissed as a familiar gurgle sounded from the machine.

I twisted to see the last dribbles of Coke spatter into the glass.

"Would it kill people to check the fucking levels," Callum growled under his breath.

"Do you want me to go change it?" I asked, eager to get away from Book Boy and his piercing blue eyes.

"It's fine, I've got it." Callum rolled his eyes as he emptied the half full glass into the waste tray. "Could you keep an eye up here?" he asked although he knew there was no need. Half the things we did here were intuitive.

He disappeared down the stairs to the storeroom and I sighed, trying to avoid looking in Book Boy's direction.

My eyes shifted around the bar until it became too awkward to ignore him.

"So, what did you get up to last night?"

I cringed as the words came out of my mouth. I hated small talk, and here I was not only starting it but doing it badly. How many times had I stood here and blatantly ignored the person beside me? Whether they said anything or not, I had never once felt the need to fill the silence. Why was now any different?

The question hung in the air between us and as it did, I felt my skin start to itch. My body calling me out on my own hypocrisy as a blush prickled across my skin.

To my relief, he answered before the quiet between us could turn stale.

"Nothing much. What about you?" The same strange intensity in his eyes laced his words, and I squirmed under their weight.

"Not much really, I just..." I paused as I thought back to last night. I could remember talking to him, and the policewoman, but then the memories after that point seemed strange. There was this odd shimmer at the edges of them, like I was looking at them through the end of a glass. They had this vignette that seemed distorted and blurred.

I could remember sitting on the sofa with Nightmare as the police finished making their notes. Then, at some point, I got up to get the wine out of the fridge. Somehow, when I returned to the sofa, the living room window was boarded up, although I couldn't remember watching the police do it. It was strange because they were my memories, nestled in my head with all the rest, but they didn't feel real. Like they weren't really mine.

I shook my head slightly, as if I could jolt the thoughts back to how they should be.

"Is something wrong?" Book Boy asked.

The pain in my head pounded and with each pulse images flashed in my head. Strange unnerving images of a man and a woman I'd never seen before. One with sandy blonde hair and the other with brilliant bouncing curls. They were innocuous enough, but no matter how normal they looked, or how attractive, their faces made my veins run cold. The fear felt strange, sudden, and out of place, yet important.

I blinked to clear my head.

"No, just remembering a weird dream," I frowned. The pain eased a little, and I saw the light ping on the Coke machine, signalling it was ready to use.

I picked up a glass and started to fill it with ice.

As my hand registered the cool hardness of the glass in my palm, the edge of my vision sparkled. Disorientated, I looked at the ice tongs in front of me, but they weren't there. I could feel them, but I couldn't see them. It was like I was looking down a telescope the wrong way. All I could see was the centre of my field of view. The rest was contorted and unclear.

I blinked to try and clear my vision, and as I did, the flash of a dream filled my head. Or at least I thought it was a dream. The same beautiful blonde girl stood before me, her eyes holding me captive as she reached for me. I filled with dread at the thought of those hands touching me. Like for whatever reason, they weren't as dainty and innocent as they looked.

My head spun, and before I could stop it the glass in my hand dropped and shattered at my feet. My body quickly followed, unsteady legs giving way below me. For an instant, I felt weightless as time seemed to slow and my body crumpled to the ground. Somewhere in the haze I knew to expect the sharp painful thud of my head hitting the ground, but it never came. Instead I felt my back press against something warm and firm, as strong arms wrapped around me.

The rich masculine aroma of something spicy and sweet filled my sense of smell.

"Are you OK?" A velvety voice asked while my head throbbed. My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing they saw was an endless blue, deep and oceanic as it poured over my skin.

Book Boy.

"You move so fast." It wasn't a question and he knew it.

"I saw you falling."

"Why are you so hot?" I asked as I squirmed away from his heat.

"Genetics," he joked with a wry laugh.

A thunderous drumroll of footsteps cut through the moment as Kelly came running down the stairs. Her chestnut curls flew wildly about her round face.

"Is she alright?" she gasped. Whether it was worry or a lack of fitness, her voice was breathless and frantic.

I pushed away from Book Boy as I went to sit up. "I'm fine." I could feel my face burning with embarrassment, and soon the anger would follow. It was how I was programmed.

"Don't move," Book Boy instructed, so I moved just to spite him. I wasn't going to just sit there like some stereotypical damsel in distress.

I wobbled as I got to my feet, my heading spinning again as it throbbed. "Could you take her upstairs? There's a sofa in the break room," Kelly babbled to Book Boy as she turned to Callum behind her. "Callum can help you..."

Her sentence cut off mid-way as Book Boy lifted me with ease. "Or not."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I muttered as I tried to fight him off. The movement made my stomach roll, so —reluctantly— I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest. It was blissfully quiet against my throbbing head.

His body didn't sway or jolt as he carried me. Instead, all I was aware of was the heat of his arms soaking through my top and jeans, as he moved up the stairs. Each step was sinuous and silent.

He gently rested me on the sofa, and I felt my body sink into the thick foam cushions. The faux leather fabric stuck against my clammy skin as it moulded around me. I slung my arm over my eyes as I heard Kelly following us up the stairs, loud heavy footsteps echoing off the wooden steps.

"Are you OK?" she asked, touching my forehead.

"I'm fine. It's just a headache."

"She seems unsteady on her feet, it might be best if she goes home," Book Boy said to Kelly, soft and swaying. I didn't like how persuasive his voice was, and I especially didn't like how Kelly's head nodded in response.

"I'll call a taxi to take you. Emma said she can help you get back."

"I just need some aspirin," I complained although I knew they wouldn't help.

"You fainted, Anna. If Bo... Atticus hadn't been there you could have smacked your head off the counter."

I squinted past my arm to see Book Boy and Kelly standing above me. His eyes caught mine as Kelly talked. I wondered if he could see the questions on my face. I could remember seeing him at the other side of the counter when I started filling the glass with Coke. There was no way he could have gotten around the counter fast enough to catch me. I felt the accusation at the back of my throat, but I bit my tongue.

"I'm going to call Amber in tomorrow, so take a few days and rest up," Kelly continued.

Dread filled my chest as I thought of being stuck in the flat for the next few days. I sat up anxiously, my hands digging into the sofa as I tried to keep myself steady.

"Come on, Kelly. I've had hangovers worse than this."

Her eyes flashed with worry as she crouched down beside me. "You need to take better care of yourself. Do you think I don't notice when you don't take half your breaks? Or that you don't bring lunch with you?"

I stared at her, unblinking, as my teeth ground together. Her maternal tone was meant to be compassionate but the itch inside writhed. Riled by the way she spoke to me like she was admonishing a child.

I lurched up off the sofa, fighting against the way my head spun.

"You're not my mother, Kelly. I don't need you preaching to me," I scorned.

"I'm your friend, Anna. I'm just trying to look out for you."

"I can look out for myself."

"Fine." Heat flashed in her eyes, picking out the golden hue in the hazel, like a flickering flame. "If that's how you want to play it. If I see you in here in the next two days you're fired," she scolded while she stared me down. We were around the same height, but in this moment, I felt myself shrink under her commanding stare.

Book Boy shifted nearby, edging towards the stairs as he watched me. Kelly broke our staring match to glance at him, as if just remembering his presence.

"Thanks for your help, Atticus," she said over her shoulder.

He nodded once before turning to leave. His footsteps quiet on the stairs.

I spun to glare at him as he left, but the pain and speed of my movement made my head spin. A small whimper left my mouth as I slowly sunk back down onto the sofa. I decided to just be still and wait for the taxi. It was completely my decision, absolutely nothing to do with what anybody else said.