Chapter 8
. . .
Xavier
My phone ringing wakes me up. For a few seconds, I actually don’t know where I am. Then I recognise my hotel room. Ah yes. Meeting Daddy Dearest.
The phone stops ringing. It wasn’t Reuben, as he’d prefer to throw himself off a tall building rather than willingly contact me. I laugh out loud in the quiet room at the thought of his face last night. Should I be feeling worry or guilt about being with him?
No, I don’t think so.
The hour I spent with Jez confirmed my suspicion I wouldn’t be able to stand him, so I’m unconcerned about his feelings. And Reuben is too fucking hot to feel guilt about. I’d known I wouldn’t be able to resist him the moment I sat next to him in the bar.
First, there was his voice, deep and husky-sounding with an intriguing Scottish burr.
I shiver. I’ve always been a sucker for a Scottish man.
Blame Sean Connery and my grandfather’s addiction to Bond films. That, combined with the note of amusement as he spoke on the phone, had me intensely interested.
Then he’d turned to me, and I’d seen his eyes, and that had been it.
I grab my rucksack from the side of the bed and root through it. After I find my sketch book and charcoals, I start to draw. As usual, just the motion of putting pencil to paper is soothing, and I lose myself. When I come to, it’s half an hour later, and my page is full of Reuben.
I study him. He’s so gorgeous—thick, dark hair, and a craggy face with bright grey eyes that look silver in certain lights.
Taken individually, the elements of his face shouldn’t make him good-looking.
He has a crooked nose, which has obviously been broken a few times.
His lips are thin and his chin is stubborn and has a scar running down the side of it, but somehow, taken together, all those elements merge into something stunning.
And I actually hit that. Twice. I stretch, feeling the sun on my naked body and smirk in satisfaction. He’s so different from the boys at college.
I close my eyes, running a hand over my sun-warmed skin, remembering how Reuben’s touch had been firm and forceful.
Yet I hadn’t felt forced in the slightest. I’d felt coveted and cared for.
He’d given me something that, despite my experience with past hookups, I hadn’t even been aware I craved.
And then when he’d sucked me, his eyes turning silver, his hands clinging like he’d never get enough…
My cock stiffens, and I spread my legs, cupping my balls before fisting my dick and giving it a lazy tug. I swallow, remembering his dick in my mouth, the girth that made me gag, and the approval in his eyes when I tried again. I think I’d do it again and again just to get that look.
The phone rings. I look at my dick and then at the mobile trilling away. “Shit,” I grunt.
I grab it and groan when I see the contact picture. Well, I definitely can’t ignore this. I click to connect the call. “Good morning, Grandma.”
Cynthia’s cool voice comes through loud and clear. “Did I wake you? Are you still in bed?” Disapproval is a silvery-cool line that runs through every word she speaks to me.
“No, of course not,” I lie. “I’ve been up for hours.” I look at the sheets and wince when I spot the charcoal smudges on them. I wonder if I’ll lose my damage deposit and then smile when I realise that’s very much Jez’s problem, not mine.
“Hmm. So, your grandfather and I were wondering how it went yesterday?”
“It was okay.”
“Was he as obnoxious as I remember him?”
I laugh. “Probably more, to be honest. He’s a complete prat.”
“Oh, dear. Perhaps you should come home, darling. I don’t know why you wanted to meet him anyway.”
“Well, it’s done now.” I hadn’t been lying when I told Reuben that I wanted to see Jez and, more importantly, be seen by him.
I wanted him to recognise me, to know that I was on this earth—a fact he’s striven to ignore for my whole life.
His actions have impacted me in so many ways, and I want that to be recognised.
I don’t want to be ignored. I fucking hate that more than anything else.
“Exactly. Come home and leave the odious little man on his own.”
Home. I think of the house I grew up in. It’s perfect and perfectly sterile—no books, no music. The only thing messy in it is me, and we all know that. I’m like the charcoal smudges on my white sheets.
“Well, he wouldn’t be on his own,” I say after a moment.
“I beg your pardon?”
“He brought his friend with him as moral support.”
“That’s grotesque. He couldn’t even meet you on his own.” Her voice is cross.
I shrug. “It’s not so bad. The bloke is the photographer he works with.”
“Reuben Langley?”
“Yes. You know him?”
She tuts. “I saw an exhibition of his work in London when I went with your grandfather for his regiment dinner. They were extraordinary. So stark yet also beautiful.”
I feel a surge of pride. I have zero idea why. I hardly know Reuben, but somehow having his cock in my mouth has made me think I do.
“He was there then. We spoke to him.”
“Did you?” I’m surprised. It’s as if all my worlds have suddenly collided.
“Yes, he was very charming. Not consciously, though. More in the way that very honest people are. A very intelligent man, and kind, too, I think. It was in his eyes.”
“He is kind,” I say without thinking.
There’s a silence, and I groan. I can’t get much past my grandmother.
“Oh, Xavier,” she sighs. “Please tell me you’re not. That’s so messy, darling.”
“No, of course not,” I lie. The silence drags. “Really. He’s just been very nice to me.”
“Hmm.” She patently doesn’t believe me, but why would she? She’s pulled me out of a lot of scrapes over the years, so she knows me very well. “Well, please do not complicate that particular situation any more than it already is.”
“I don’t think it would matter anyway. Jez and I are not going to have a relationship.”
“I’m sorry, darling.” Her voice is as chilly as an ice pop, but I appreciate the sentiment anyway.
“Well, you did warn me.”
“I did, but I don’t believe you’ve ever paid attention to me, so it wasn’t disappointing that you didn’t do it this time either.”
That startles a laugh out of me. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, I must be off, darling. Your grandfather and I are playing tennis with the Coopers.”
“How lovely,” I lie.
“Try to pay attention to Jez, even if he is an idiot, and do not be rude.” To my grandparents, rudeness ranks up there with spree killing and not paying your TV license. “Try to be nice and come home if you are not enjoying it, Xavier.”
“Okay.”
She rings off, and I lie back and pull the sheets around me.
I love my grandparents and will always be grateful to them.
They didn’t have to take me in when my mum died, but they did.
They came for me, and they’ve raised me, paid for my education, and done their best, but the fact remains that my mum disrupted their ordered lifestyle, and I’ve just continued the trend.
I know they love me, but it’s a funny sort of love—steady and firm but never really warm.
They pulled me out of so much shit, and no matter what I did, they never raised their voices at me.
People would say that’s nice, but maybe they never shouted because they never cared enough.
I shrug. But love is always good. Right?
My phone buzzes with a text. I open it.
Jez the Sperm Donor: We’re meeting in the lobby at 10. We thought we’d take you to the zoo for the day.
My lip curls. Does he think I’m five? And what’s with the we business?
Couldn’t be Reuben’s idea. He’d have suggested something I’d like, I think.
Reuben looks at me like he wants to know me.
When we talked about our parents last night, I’d felt seen in a real way.
The counsellor my grandparents sent me to had looked at me like I was a bug under a microscope.
Reuben had looked at me like… Like he was the same as me, and he heard me saying what I’ve never been able to say. And he understood me.
It’s a heady thought—like the feeling I get when I see an image emerge under my pencil.
And he’ll be there today. Brightening, I leap out of bed and rifle through my case to find the sluttiest outfit I can find.
Reuben
I sigh and tap Jez’s leg, which is bouncing frantically. We’re sitting in the hotel bar and his vibrating is rocking the table. “Do you mind?” I say. “You’re making me dizzy.”
“I can’t help it. I hate this.”
“Hate what exactly?”
In response, he makes a weird, all-encompassing gesture.
I narrow my eyes. “The hotel? The bar? The food? The weather? The Cotswolds?”
“This whole situation.” He glares at me. “It’s a joy suck.”
Anger stirs. “Then maybe you should have kept your dick wrapped, twat.”
“Oh, nice.” His voice is wounded. “I thought you’d be on my side. That’s why I brought you with me.”
“Oh, what bad luck for you. I think I’m coming down on the side of a boy who’s never known his father and is now getting a really shitty impression of him.”
“Why are you always sticking up for him?”
“Always? I’ve known him for twenty-four hours.” And during that time, I've snogged the fuck out of him, exchanged blowjobs, and became aware of how much I love the taste of his come. I force the guilt away and sigh. “Come on, Jez. I know you hate being made to do anything—”
“I do.”
“But this is a little different. You’re not being fair to the kid. Give him a chance, and I think you’ll really like him.”
“He’s a smart-arse, and what I really think is that he’s taking the piss out of me.”
I do too, but refrain from adding fuel to the fire. “He’s not,” I say. “He’s just nervous and trying to cope with everything.”
His eyes slide past me, and he growls. “And this is the method he’s chosen.”