Chapter 6
Kyle
Now
It’s been the longest, most agonising two days since my argument with Bren outside his showroom. I keep getting lost in my thoughts—motionless, looking into an empty washing machine, sitting in the car in the garage, or staring endlessly at my laptop screen, lost in memories from two decades ago.
It’s taken every ounce of willpower to stop myself from texting or calling, but, as time passes, my anxiety continues to grow. I’d hoped Bren might reach out, but if he isn’t going to, then I need to think rationally about my next move.
Yesterday, I spent a couple of hours on the internet, then made phone calls to see if my current qualifications would be sufficient to return to work as a paramedic.
Surprisingly, I only need to do a short refresher course to update my CPR and other essential skills.
The next available course commences in two weeks, but the application is due tomorrow.
The bathroom renovation began this morning, and, while I feel certain Jeff and the other two men are trustworthy, I can’t fully relax with strangers in the house.
So, I take my laptop outside for some privacy and get to work on my application.
James doesn’t know about it, and I have no intention of telling him.
The course is during business hours, which is no problem because I can organise a mum from school to help with pickups and after school activities. James will be none the wiser.
When I step back inside later, Jeff is calling for me.
“Kyle, are you around, mate?”
I pop my head into the living room to find him heading back upstairs. “Sorry Jeff, I was outside. What’s up?”
“Oh, hey man. Brendan just called. He said there might be a delay on the feature tile you chose, which could add a few extra days to the reno. He wants to know if that’s okay or if you want to choose a different tile?”
“Why didn’t Brendan just call me himself?” I ask, miffed.
“Not sure. But he wants me to let him know ASAP. Honestly, I think the one you chose is a great choice.”
“Okay, stick with that one.” It’s an easy decision if it means keeping this connection to Bren open longer.
Jeff asks me to join him upstairs when I return home after picking Lu up from her dance class. “Everything okay?” I inquire, as I take in the state of the bathroom. It’s already a bare shell with everything removed.
“Yeah yeah, all okay. Brendan just called again and wants to know if you’d like to upgrade to this showerhead.” He passes me an iPad with a photo of a showerhead that looks identical to the one I’ve already chosen.
“They look exactly the same,” I say, frowning. “What’s the difference and how much extra is it?”
“It’s basically got more holes and more settings. So, whether you like it fine or hard or thick or soft, or anywhere in between, there’s a setting for it. And it’s only an extra hundred.”
I suppress the urge to laugh because Jeff sounds like he’s in a bad gay porno.
But I can’t figure out if Bren is making this shit up to piss me off or to get me to go over there.
That aside, couldn’t he throw in a hundred-dollar upgrade on a thirty thousand reno?
“Tell him I’d like the upgrade for free,” I say, already heading back downstairs.
Furious, I grab my phone off the kitchen bench and tap out a text.
Me: I think you should throw in the upgrade for free ;)
The wink emoji is purely to piss Bren off, and it doesn’t even remotely come close to expressing how I really feel. His reply comes through two minutes later.
Bren: Jeff is running your reno, so deal directly with him Davies.
Grabbing my keys, I tell Lu I’m heading out and she can order whatever she wants for dinner. If she cared about me leaving, I wouldn’t go, but she spends all her time in her room anyway.
On the drive over, I get myself more and more worked up and it becomes less clear what my intentions are. All I know is that I want to see Bren, yell at him, kiss him, fuck him, and hold him. Preferably in that order.
It’s after 5:30 when I arrive and there are only two cars remaining in the parking lot.
One is Brendan’s Ute and the other I assume belongs to an employee.
I wait in my car for a few minutes, considering my options, then a young woman exits the building and drives off.
Hoping the employee didn’t lock the door, I make my way to the front entrance.
Quietly opening the door, I step inside to find a large showroom with the lights already turned off.
In the far corner, I see a small beam of light coming from what looks like an office.
“That you, Kate? Did you forget somethin’ again?”
Bren’s deep voice spikes my pulse. What the fuck am I doing here?
I slow for only a second before picking up speed, manoeuvring between display baths and showers on a path towards Bren’s office. With far more momentum than necessary, I push the door open and burst inside.
Bren jumps to his feet, fists up, ready to attack. “Fuckin’ hell Davies!” he yells, eyes changing from alarmed to angry.
“If you have a question for me don’t be a fucking pussy! Just pick up the phone and ask.” I move further into the office. “Or come and do the reno yourself.”
Bren comes out from behind his desk so we are standing face-to-face, his body within touching distance. “You shouldn’t be here, Davies.”
“And what the fuck are you gonna do about it, huh?” I step forward, getting right up in his personal space.
So close that his breath is warm and sweet on my face.
“What? Not so tough anymore?” I’m desperate to push his buttons and I know exactly how to get under his skin—he hasn’t changed that much.
Bren shoves me hard in the chest, and I stumble backwards. “I’ll fuckin’ lay you out, Davies.”
Adrenaline floods my veins, my cock plumping with interest as we eye each other up.
My physical response to Bren, even after all these years, is incomprehensible.
It’s low in my gut, primal and blinding.
We belonged to each other once and I hate myself for what I did to him, to us.
Bren had loved me enough to ink my name on his body.
I grab the fabric of his shirt and rip it open, buttons popping off and bouncing across the floor.
“What the fuck, Kyle!”
Bren slams me into the wall and holds me firmly in place. The wind’s been knocked out of me, and I have to gasp for air. My eyes fall to Bren’s chest, just below his collarbone, where my name used to be. “It’s gone,” I say, gutted.
Our eyes meet, and, for the briefest moment, all the walls come down and the truth sits ugly between us. Bren releases me and turns away, closing his shirt over his bare chest. “Of course it’s fuckin’ gone.”
“You used to love me,” I whisper.
Bren leans on his desk, his head hanging low. “I did. Once. But that was a long time ago and I’m not that person anymore. Please, Kyle, just get the fuck outta here.”
He doesn’t look at me, instead he opens the cupboard in the corner and takes out a shirt. I open and close my mouth, trying to grasp for the right words, but I recognise how deeply I’ve fucked this up, so I silently slip away.