Chapter 9 #2
“Don’t get used to the idea. Last week, she said I had the potential to be a leader.”
“Good god, what a truly horrendous thought. It would be like mixing Napoleon with one of the Teletubbies.” He laughs, and his face is so full of life. The last time I looked that vibrant was probably the Jurassic era. “Does your therapist help you?”
“Nope. But seeing her was something the school demanded after they expelled me.”
“You got expelled?”
He winks. “Twice, but who’s counting?”
“Well, it sort of sounds like the school was.”
“Bah. Boring.” His grin turns wicked as I laugh. “When shall I break that one to Daddy Dearest?” I sigh, and his grin widens.
“Maybe stop trying to wind him up. You could try to get to know him instead. The real him.”
“And is that the one you know, or the shitty person I’ve been introduced to?”
“You’re not seeing him at his best.”
“I bet.”
“Maybe it would help if you take the view that this trip is an olive branch from him to you,” I say tentatively.
His lips thin. “Oh yes, the olive branch.”
“I know you didn’t start off right. Not after he asked for the blood test,” I say quickly.
He cocks his head. “That’s where you think we started?”
I hesitate. “Well, yes, of course. When he found out about you.”
He laughs, but when he’s over the hilarity, he shoots me one of his clear, searching glances. “Reuben, he’s known about me all my life.”
“What?”
He straightens. “Wait. You really didn’t know?”
“No, of course not.” I shake my head. My stomach is churning. “That can’t be true.”
“I don’t ever lie,” he snaps. He watches me for a long few seconds. “I think you must be a very loyal person.”
I blink at the change in subject. “Why?”
“Because you really seem to need to think the best of Jez. Why is that?”
I’ve been asking that question of myself for a few years now. I’m no nearer an answer. I sink into the chair feeling suddenly incredibly weary. “He knew about you?” He nods. I don’t want to believe him, but his face is full of a brave kind of honesty. “How?”
He shrugs. “When my mum died, I was only a few months old. My grandparents didn’t want to take me on, so they employed a private detective to find Jez.
I’m not supposed to know about this,” he quickly adds.
“I found the papers in a box in my grandfather’s study.
I stumbled across them.” He winks. “Just fell over them in the safe.” He waits for me to laugh or smile, but I’m reeling.
My heart is screaming that he must be mistaken, but my brain is saying it’s true.
I think I already knew, to be honest—knew that Jez was hiding something.
Undeterred, he carries on. “Anyway, to cut a very boring story short, Jez told them he wasn’t interested in the information and had no intention of ever claiming the most beautiful baby that has ever lived.
” He spreads his hands, his gestures as graceful as ever.
“And voila. I was brought up by Cynthia and Brian from Little Bentley.”
“Did he—” I clear my throat. I already know the answer, but I have to ask. “Did he pay anything to support you?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Not a bean.”
“I’m sorry.” The betrayal is already hot in my blood. Jez knows my thoughts on people who abandon their kids. Knows it and lied to my fucking face. “He told me he didn’t know.”
His face is apologetic. “He’s obviously a very great liar. Well done to him. Round of applause.” He does a herky-jerky version of a Mexican wave, but stops when I don’t join in. “Sorry,” he mutters, suddenly serious as he drifts to my side.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I’ve disillusioned you about your good friend.” He bites his lip, his eyes worried. “And I don’t think that’s good for you.”
I’m unexpectedly touched by his concern, but I immediately bury the emotions somewhere deep, where I’ll either forget about them or drag them out at the earliest opportunity. I need to lighten the situation.
“Worry about yourself and that mouth of yours,” I advise him.
He chuckles, his face lighting. “Why? My mouth is amazing. It’s one of the best bits of my body.”
“Your lack of confidence must close a lot of doors in life,” I say gravely.
“Maybe, but it certainly hasn’t impacted the bedroom ones. They’re always wide open.”
Silence drops for a few beats. I clear my throat. “I wish that you’d had a different start in life.”
He stares at me as if analysing me for sincerity. Then he gives a graceful shrug. “Could have been worse. My mama could have had a bunk-up with Ed Gein.”
He’s obviously had enough of the serious conversation. “Yes, but look on the bright side. You would have had some very unusual lamps around the house.”
He laughs and I bite my lip to hold in a smile. I stand up and he pastes a disappointed look on his face. “Oh, are we not having sex?”
“Not tonight, Satan.” I want so much to keep him here, but I can’t. “Well, I must show you out.”
“It’s a small room, Reuben. I think I can find the way.” He inches closer, and I take a wary step back, which makes his eyes twinkle. “I wanted to say thank you for your present.”
I take another step, no longer bothered if it shows weakness. I just need to be out of the range of the tractor beam he seems to employ around me. “What present?”
He pouts. “Oh no. Have you forgotten so soon? That must be your age. Your gift of art supplies.”
I’d plopped them in his lap when we got back to the hotel, and pretended Jez had left them with me. “They were from your dad,” I say feebly.
He throws his head back, laughing.
“Shh,” I chide. “He’ll hear you. Why is that so funny?”
He subsides, wiping tears from his eyes. “Because he never bought me those. You did.”
I open my mouth to argue but close it when he eyes me knowingly. “What gave me away?” I finally ask instead.
“Erm, the sheer astonishment on Jez’s face.” He starts to laugh again. “I was very tempted to make him go through the presents in the bag one by one and tell me why he chose each of them, but even I’m not that hard-hearted.”
“You’re not hard-hearted at all,” I say without thinking.
He edges closer again. “That sounds like you might have devoted some time to thinking about little old me.”
“Stop being flirtatious.”
He gasps, putting a hand to his chest. “Oh my god, you might just as well tell me to stop breathing.”
“Would that stop you talking?” I can’t help laughing at my own joke.
His face warms. “Anyway, the present was absolutely epic.”
“You liked it?” I say unable to not ask.
He nods, and the honesty is clear in his eyes. “It’s the most thoughtful present I’ve ever had.”
“That makes me sad.”
His eyes heat and grow flirtatious once more. “I wanted to get you a present myself to say thank you.”
“Oh no, you don’t have to—”
He folds his arms, and my eyes narrow.
“You don’t appear to be carrying a gift,” I say cautiously.
“Ah, it’s the sort of present I carry on my person.”
“Oh god, it’s your cock, isn’t it?”
This time, I laugh when he does. I can’t help it. He has such an infectious nature—warm, charming, and funny. He sobers. “Alas, it isn’t my cock, but I love that you’d think that would be a good present.”
Before I can respond, he raises his T-shirt, showing off a mouth-watering glimpse of his tight abs. “What are you doing?” I choke out, surging forward and grabbing him around the waist to stop him.
“Taking off the gift wrapping for you. You seem to be the buttoned-up sort that doesn’t like surprises.”
“Xavi, this weekend, just the word ‘surprise’ coupled with you makes me exceptionally nervous.”
“Xavi?” he says incredulously.
My cheeks heat. That slipped out unplanned. “Hmm.”
His eyes sparkle. “Have you got a… nickname for me?”
“Oh shut up.”
He pats my shoulder. “It’s fine. I already have mine ready.”
“What is it?” I ask warily.
“Roo.”
“That’s a fucking baby kangaroo.”
“Xavi and Roo. It’s really got a ring to it, don’t you think?”
“No. Please let’s never mention it again.”
He laughs and manages to wriggle free and out of his shirt, and I swallow. He’s beautiful in the lamplight. It gilds the dips and hollows of his slender torso. He’s hairless, his skin golden.
“For my thanks for your very thoughtful gift, I used it and created living art for you,” he says gravely.
He turns, and I burst out laughing. On the sleek skin of his back is a black arrow that starts at the middle of his spine and ends up at the crack of his pert backside.
“What is that?”
He pouts over his shoulder. “I really fear that you are not a fan of the arts, Reuben. This piece of superb artwork is titled, ‘The Road to Extreme Pleasure’.” He winks. “It has the subtitle, ‘Xavier’s Bottom’.”
I want to say something funny, but words dry in my mouth.
He’s lithe and coated in muscle with not a spare inch of flesh.
He’s impossible to resist and I abruptly stop trying.
I step closer and run my hand down his spine, feeling him shudder under my fingertips.
Then, almost before I realise I’m doing it, I bend and run my tongue up the path my fingers traced.
I stop at his neck where I nose under his hair, inhaling deeply.
He smells fresh and warm and makes my mouth water.
He spins in my arms and stares up at me for a long few seconds.
Then he surges up and kisses me. The heat is immediate, and I groan, seizing his shoulders and pulling him even closer.
I force his mouth open and tangle our tongues together, feeling his hands tugging at me frantically.
When I finally pull away, my lips are swollen and coated with his saliva.
I send my tongue over them, tasting him, and he shivers before grabbing my shirt and pulling me back into him.
His hands are trembling as he starts on the buttons.
“Okay?” I ask immediately.
He nods, all his attention on my shirt. “I’m just desperate to get your clothes off.” He makes a moue of displeasure as he fumbles a button. “It’s like a fucking straitjacket. Did your jailor dress you today?”