Chapter 12 Here Comes Your Man #2
“So, how have you been?” I asked, my lips summoning a shy smile.
“Yeah, okay. It’s been quiet.” She nodded.
“I didn’t know you were staying… you know, on your own.”
“I didn’t tell you.”
“But you told Jeremy.”
“He asked.”
Shit. “Sorry, I didn’t think to. You always seem so—”
“It’s okay. I like being alone.”
“I’ve missed you,” I blurted. “I’ve been thinking about you… and, you know, everything else. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
A sexy half-smile tugged at Francesca’s lips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Good,” she said, and I swallowed.
The fluttering in my stomach batted all my words away, and now Jeremy was striding over, tongue poking out in concentration as he carried three purple pints between stretched fingers.
“Here we go! A little taste of uni in case you’re missing it.” He unbuttoned his jacket, revealing a pressed white shirt and tweed waistcoat.
Francesca took a tentative sip from her pint. “God, it’s truly awful.”
For a split second Jeremy looked crushed, but then he released a hearty laugh. “It is rather, isn’t it?”
“Disgusting,” I added, dipping my tongue into the pink froth.
Jeremy raised his glass. “Well, cheers anyway.”
We clinked our glasses together, and all took a sip.
An awkward silence stretched out. This was the first time the three of us had been together since Francesca and I had…
I couldn’t think about that now, but my body thrummed with the proximity of her, and Jeremy must have been able to sense it too; the shift, the gear change.
I needed time to find my footing in this uncertain terrain, which felt impossible when I couldn’t feel the ground.
Jeremy gave in first. “Ma’s had Bunty make up a guest room for you. You’ll be just up the hall from me… so, if you get lonely, you know where I am.” Eyebrows raised, he brought the pint to his mouth. A moustache of pink froth clung to his top lip when he pulled the glass away.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and Francesca turned to look at me.
“How about you? Where do you sleep?”
“Oh, with my dad…” my whole body cringed. “No, not with… I mean, we have a cottage on the grounds. Dad is the groundskeeper.”
“Right, yes, I remember… but you’re coming to this party, right?” Her leg pressed into mine with far too much pressure to be accidental.
I nodded.
Francesca cradled her chin and peered at Jeremy across the table. His cheeks reddened, and he took another slow sip of his drink.
“Well, it’s not really a party. It’s just a casual sort of soirée. Drinks, dinner, and whatnot.” After a beat, he tore his eyes away from Francesca to look at me. “The Beaumonts are coming again this year.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Nope, Hugo’s home from Oxford. And he’s very much looking forward to seeing you, or so I’ve heard.” Jeremy smirked.
I sank into the seat with a groan.
Hugo Beaumont. It’d taken the entire evening to get Handsy Hugo to back off last year, eyeing me across the dinner table and, later, needling me with questions I didn’t want to answer.
I told him I wasn’t interested in dating anyone because I was concentrating on my studies, but he kept touching my arm with his porky fingers like I’d given him permission and standing so close I could smell his rank breath.
I’d made wide eyes at Jeremy to save me; then, like a knight in shining Armani, he waded in and draped an arm around my shoulder.
“Hassling my girl, are you, Hugo?”
Claret-faced, Hugo held up his meaty hands and backed away. “Oh sorry, JD. I didn’t realise she was taken. I’m not one to piss on another chap’s picnic.”
And if I hadn’t already known I didn’t like men, that very moment would’ve been enough to turn me off forever.
With Francesca here, it’d be unlikely Jeremy would prop up the lie for my benefit this year.
“I’ve heard Hugo joined the rugby team and has been getting himself into shape.”
I shot him daggers.
“He’s not so bad once you get to know him. There are worse chaps out there, Trusty. You know the Beaumonts are one of the wealthiest families in Berkshire?”
Francesca shifted slightly beside me.
I shrugged and shook my head. “Why would I care about that?”
Jeremy held up his hands. “Just thinking that maybe the four of us could double-date?”
“Piss off, Jeremy.” I sprung up, almost toppling the table. Jeremy’s eyebrows shot up as he grappled to steady the glasses. I glanced at Francesca for support, but instead of being outraged, her eyes flickered with amusement.
“Steady on, Trusty. I’m only kidding about.”
“Yeah, well… it isn’t funny.” I huffed out a sigh, feeling a little foolish for taking the bait.
Francesca tugged my hand, and I sat back down. She squeezed my knee under the table and left her hand there, the warmth of it creeping up my thigh.
“You know… a double date could be fun.” Teasing laced her voice, but something about the way she said it made me think she was seriously considering it.
I turned my pointed glare on her. She tilted her head as if waiting for a response to a perfectly legitimate request. My mouth gaped with the words I couldn’t say…
Even if Hugo wasn’t objectively grotesque, I came out to you.
You’re literally the only person I’ve come out to, and you actively put my lesbianism to the test. So, why would you want us to date other people, when all I want to do is kiss you, and hold you, and touch you, and… I thought that’s what you wanted, too?
“Don’t you start, as well,” I said, pushing her hand off my leg and crossing my arms.
Jeremy chuckled and slapped his palm on the table. “Right, better drink up. We have a party to get ready for.”
“Soirée,” I muttered under my breath.
Jeremy downed the dregs of his purple pint and grimaced as he gestured his empty glass to me. “C’mon, you’ll need plenty of time to look your best for Hugo.”
Francesca nudged a playful elbow into me as she got up. If it was meant to reassure me, it didn’t. All the elation I’d felt at her arrival dropped like lead in the pit of my stomach. This new terrain was rockier than I’d imagined.