Chapter 44
She swung the front door open, expecting the figure behind the remaining pane of glass to be a courier with her new phone. It wasn’t. It was Jasper. Her skin came alive, each nerve ending thrumming at the sight of him. And then she remembered how totally arsed-up everything was.
He gestured to the plank she’d crudely hammered over the door panel she’d smashed to gain entry. ‘What the hell happened?’
‘I lost my keys. Had to break in.’
She spun around and showed him her injury.
‘Jesus. Did you axe your own head instead of the door first?’ He was joking, but his face belied genuine concern. ‘I’ve been calling you.’
‘I also lost my phone. And my purse. And my job.’
‘What’s that TheImportance of Being Earnest quote? The one about losing one of those could be considered a misfortune, but all of them looks like carelessness.’
‘I think that’s it.’
She must look a complete mess. She still hadn’t washed her hair and, although she’d had some sleep last night, her eyes were somehow both swollen and sunken at the same time. She was also mortified to be wearing the T-shirt and shorts she’d borrowed from him.
He tilted his head and scrutinised her. ‘May I come in?’
She turned and led him up the stairs, her emotions intensifying with every step. She’d spent the last twenty-four hours trying to get a handle on everything, but now the world’s hottest psychologist was on her landing. Her former stunted emotional spectrum was far preferable to this new flywheel of feelings that never seemed to run out of energy. She ushered him into the lounge.
‘Oh nice. Did you get that idea out of House Beautiful?’
He was referring to the boxes and black bin bags that she’d stuffed with all the crap she wanted rid of, piled up by the fireplace.
‘Can I get you a cup of tea?’
She sounded like some prim spinster. She was about to articulate as much when Jasper tapped her on the shoulder.
‘Hey.’ He opened his arms and invited her into them. ‘Come here.’
It was the last thing she’d been expecting, but the exact thing that she needed. She stepped forward and let him curl his arms around her, his muscle and sinew a shield against the raging shitstorm in her head.
‘What the hell happened?’ he said.
His body felt as solid as she’d expected it to. Of course it did. He was, literally, a solid bloke. He smelt just as he had that night on the sofa, all woody and musky and delicious. If she could just stay here, she wouldn’t have to think about the trash fire that was her life.
‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,’ he said.
Where to start? Ollie. Tony. Wolfe. Tasha. The fall. Her job. Her bloody life. She was determined not to cry, so instead a salad of words tumbled out, and all the while he gently rubbed her back like he was trying to rub the sadness out of her. It had been a long time since she’d been held in that way – without judgment or expectation. After she’d finished, he gently lifted her chin so he could meet her gaze.
‘You know none of this is your fault, right?’
‘I mean, it kind of is.’ She felt like a teddy with all its stuffing on the outside.
‘It isn’t. You need to cut yourself some slack.’
A single tear ran down her face. Traitorous eyes. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped it away with a featherlight sweep of his thumb.
‘Okay, that’s out of my system.’
‘Simone…’ he said with gentle reproof.
Another tear escaped from her other eye. He wiped that one away with his other thumb.
‘Okay, it definitely is now.’
‘It’s okay to be upset.’
‘I don’t want to be upset.’ Another tear ran down her face. Stupid feelings. ‘And that’s before I’ve even gone into what’s happening with the shelter.’ She groaned. ‘I’m so sorry you ever had to cross paths with me.’
‘Hey, that’s not your fault either,’ he said. ‘And I’m not sorry for what’s happened. It meant I got to meet you.’
Her eyes brimmed again. She tried to compose herself, clenching her jaw until it ached, but the rising tide of emotion wouldn’t be quelled. But what started as a quivering breath, a tentative release of tension, transformed into something else entirely: a full-on gurgling laugh that bounced off the walls, carrying with it the frustrations of the last forty-eight hours. This clearly wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting.
‘Perfect.’ He pushed her away in mock offense. ‘I’m trying to be all sincere and this is how you treat me.’
She couldn’t help it. ‘I think that’s the cheesiest thing anyone’s ever said to me.’
‘You are intolerable.’
‘I got to meet you,’ she mimicked, still chuckling.
‘Why don’t you put your Doc Martens on and properly trample all over my feelings?’
‘I’m sorry.’ She snorted. She was relieved to know everything was still functioning in the piss-taking department.
‘It’s fine. It’s called displacement. You can’t deal with the enormity of your feelings, so you have to take the mickey. Classic example.’
‘Which feelings?’
‘The feelings you have for me,’ he said.
‘Ha! I have feelings for you, do I?’
‘Without question.’
‘Actually, you’re right.’
‘I know I am.’ He took a step towards her, his confidence returning.
Simone took a step back. ‘Antipathy. That’s a feeling.’
‘Hmm.’ He took another step nearer.
‘Ambivalence.’ She stepped back again. ‘That’s also a feeling.’
He smiled and took another step.
‘Revulsion.’ She bumped into the wall behind her.
‘You say the sweetest things.’ He came so close that the celestial patterns of his irises were visible. ‘Just so you know, I’m going to kiss you now.’
‘Oh are y?—’
And then his lips were on hers. Not urgently or forcefully; just the merest whisper of a kiss; one that sought permission to go further. She granted it by pressing back against him. Still looking directly into her eyes, he tilted his head and gently licked across the opening of her mouth, but she felt it in a hundred places beyond her lips.
‘Hmm. You taste good.’
She lightly sucked his lower lip into her mouth. ‘You too.’
He put his hand behind her neck. She wound her arms around his back. And then he kissed her again. It was hard to describe the sensation of having his mouth on hers. It certainly wasn’t how she’d been kissed before. The intensity of having him watch her the whole time was a definite turn on, but it was the selflessness with which he did it that made her insides coil with desire. It was like she was a vessel he wanted to pour his affection into, with no expectation of getting anything back. Jesus, if this was the starter, she wanted all in on the main course. She reached for his junk, testing to see if he was experiencing this in the same places she was.
His eyes widened momentarily. ‘What if I told you I only want a kiss?’
‘I’d tell you that’s very disappointing to hear.’
‘I don’t want to take advantage of you.’
‘I am all for being taken advantage of.’
‘You’re emotionally vulnerable.’
‘I am also very turned on.’
‘We haven’t even been on a date.’
‘That doesn’t usually stop me.’
‘Lovely!’ said Jasper.
‘Just shut up and kiss me again.’
This time the kiss went deeper, more urgent. It was a kiss that was going places. The sexual gods had awoken and there was only one way they were going to be appeased. Jasper pressed himself against her. She ground herself against him, the seam of the shorts settling in just the right place to magnify each rhythmic movement. It was like sinking into quicksand; she couldn’t have pulled herself away if she wanted to. She needed to consume and be consumed by him.
‘I think we should close that.’ He nodded in the direction of the blind.
She pulled him towards the window, unwound the cord, and let it fall.
‘I think we should open these.’ She unbuttoned his trousers.
He littered kisses along her collarbone, making her scalp prickle. He tugged on her shorts. ‘These are going to have to go.’ He loosened the bow and they dropped to the floor.
‘These too, I’m afraid.’ She tugged his cargo pants down over his bottom.
He kicked off his trainers and deftly wriggled out of the trousers. She leant in to taste his lips once more, delaying the inevitable removal of the final layer. She was unable to recall the last time she’d slept with someone for the first time and been sober. But impatience got the better of her. She wrestled his T-shirt off him, relishing seeing in close-up the same body parts she’d lusted after from afar. The faint ridges that ran across the edge of his pecs where they met his breastbone; his hair-free, taut, unyielding skin; his perfect dark nipples that lined up with the outer edge of his six-pack. She wanted to take one into her mouth, see what it tasted like, but would he think that was weird?
He was under her T-shirt, undoing her bra.
‘What kind of sex are you into?’ she breathlessly whispered into his ear.
‘Is there a menu?’ He cupped her breast.
‘I’m serious.’
She’d never felt the need to please someone more.
His hand stayed and he looked directly into her eyes. ‘Simone. You don’t have to perform for me. You just need to enjoy yourself. That’s the kind of sex I’m into.’
She could just melt into him. She’d never felt more turned on, but perhaps there was no need to rush. She could take her time and savour the moment. She put an arm’s distance between them and unhurriedly removed her top, then slowly and deliberately took off her bra. She’d always been confident about her body, but as his eyes slowly traced the curves of her boobs, she felt painfully self-conscious.
‘They’ll do, I guess.’ He winked.
‘Will they now? And what have you got for me?’
He pointed to his own chest. ‘These?’
‘Nuh-uh. The rest of it.’
The outline of his erection was clearly visible in his tight-fitting boxer shorts. She became apprehensive all of a sudden. It was always nerve-wracking making the acquaintance of a penis, especially when you had grown so fond of the owner to which it was attached. She imagined it was like being introduced to someone’s kid for the first time. Would you like them? Would you want to spend more time with them? It was probably shallow, but this shit was important if you were going to be in a relationship. Uh-oh. Relationship. She tucked the idea away to revisit later. Best to tackle these things one shag at a time.
‘Okay, fine.’ He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and very slowly unpeeled them, past the pronounced ridges of his lower abdomen, past the blackness of his tight pubic hair, past the point of no return. His dick sprang out like a jack-in-the-box. It had a slight curve, like it was cocking its head and inviting her to come play, but it was as irresistible as the rest of him.
‘I think I can work with that,’ she said.
The boxers fell to his ankles and he stepped out of them. ‘I’ve shown you mine, now you show me yours.’
She removed her knickers.
‘Eww, is it meant to look like that?!’
He was joking, of course.
‘You asshole!’
‘I really like you too. Come here.’ He pulled her towards him, grabbed her by the bum, and lifted her up so she was straddling him. ‘Crikey, you’re heavier than you look.’
She joy-snorted. ‘And you are far weaker.’
‘Do you have a bed? I’m pretty certain that sofa won’t be able to handle what we’re about to do.’
‘It’s that way.’ She pointed back out onto the landing.
‘Hnngg.’ He pretended to stagger.
She laughed again.
‘We’re also going to need a condom,’ he said. ‘I don’t tend to carry them around with me.’
‘Tut-tut. Were you not a boy scout?’
‘No, but I’m pretty certain that wasn’t one of the badges.’
They’d reached the bedroom, and even though the flat was otherwise unoccupied, she kicked the door closed behind them.
‘Alexa, play some music. Volume five.’
She didn’t need the dude downstairs hearing anything of what was about to transpire; this was going to be just for her.
* * *
Two hours and more than one condom later, they lay in bed. Jasper was stroking her hair and she didn’t even care how greasy it was. He tentatively parted it, taking a closer look at her wound.
‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’
They both burst out laughing.
‘I once had someone say that to me for real.’
‘That’s because you are very, very hot.’ He kissed her head.
She shivered with pleasure. ‘So what made you come?’
She couldn’t believe that he was really here, in her bedroom.
‘I think it was that thing you did with your finger, mainly.’
She cackled. ‘I meant back here. Today.’
He comically hit his head, pretending he really had imagined she’d meant it sexually. ‘Well, first off, I was worried. I called you. A few times. Then I sent a couple of messages, but none got read. I figured that was odd, given how ordinarily you’re surgically attached to your phone.’
She playfully hit him, her hand making contact with unyielding muscle.
‘And I owed you an apology. I’m sorry for being a dick at the gala. The truth is I saw you with that guy and I … I don’t know, I was worried about getting hurt.’
‘I don’t think he’d have taken you in a fight.’
‘Not physically, you dope! I thought about texting you every day since then but … I guess I still harbour some abandonment issues that I wanted to work through.’
She had a sudden, horrible flashback of waking up in bed with Marcus. With the tsunami of shit she’d been dealing with, her mind had offered her some small respite by keeping that in the sidebar of her consciousness. But there it was. Should she tell him what had happened? She didn’t want to say or do anything that could spoil this moment. Equally, she wanted to be completely transparent with him. She tossed the thought this way and that. They hadn’t been seeing one another, so did she need to mention it at all? But if it came out later, would he feel aggrieved that she’d kept it from him?
‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘you might have convinced yourself you can switch your emotions on and off, but it turns out I can’t.’
He bent over and kissed her deeply. She decided now wasn’t the time.
‘Is that why you work at the shelter,’ she said when they came up for air, ‘rather than literally anywhere else?’
He considered this. ‘I don’t know how anyone can see what these people have been through and then walk away.’
She was reminded of some reels Nancy and Ziggy had posted of an organised tour of San Francisco’s tent cities, tickets for which had set them back thirty dollars. She’d been shocked by the cynical profiteering at work, and she told Jasper about it now. How weird to think that, had fate taken a different turn, she would have been there with them, probably not thinking twice about snapping away with her camera.
‘I’m not surprised.’ He had far more shocking stories of poverty and disaster tourism that he shared.
‘And dare I ask what’s happening at the shelter?’
He told her that, as feared, the council had confirmed the shelter’s funding was being cut.
‘I don’t know when they were planning on telling us if we hadn’t asked. Gayle’s investigating alternative accommodation for everyone, but until the shutters come down completely, there’s nothing official we can do. She’s doing her nut about Tasha. I should probably call her and let her know.’
He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around himself, and went to retrieve his phone from the shorts on the lounge floor. She missed him the second he left.
‘What will happen to Hozan?’ she asked when he returned.
It wasn’t like he could just pitch up in another shelter’s car park.
‘I don’t know.’ Jasper’s mouth set in a grim line. ‘I really don’t know.’
She had temporarily allowed herself to forget everything, but the real world was crowding in once more.
He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. ‘What kind of a world is it where rich idiots can consider other people’s suffering to be good business, or worse, entertainment?’
Her brain’s synapses glittered with the germ of something. She rolled onto her side. ‘What did you say?’
‘How can it ever be reasonable to use people’s suffering for profit or entertainment?’
The thought burst through its fleshy membranes and into her consciousness.
‘That’s brilliant,’ she said.
‘What is?’
‘That idea.’
‘What idea?
‘What if we ran an event? At the shelter. An authentic homeless experience. Twenty-four hours in the life kind of thing. As a fundraiser.’
‘Are you kidding?’
‘No. I’m deadly serious.’
The idea was like a magnet, drawing others to it.
‘We could invite a bunch of influencers along. They love that kind of shit.’
‘Why would anyone want to stay in a homeless shelter unless they had to?’
‘Because influencers are insecure attention seekers who think the validation they get from other people, whilst doing things those other people won’t get the chance to do, will in some way make their vacuous, pointless lives more meaningful.’
More ideas careered around her head. Why hadn’t she considered it before? This was how she’d get her own back. Scupper Wolfe’s chances of getting the shelter. It was perfect.
‘We could do a fundraiser at the same time. Double up.’
‘How would you even organise it?’
‘Please! You are looking at a three-time Eventex Award winner.’
Finally, it was time to put her skills to good use, and if she could get her revenge in the process, well, that was extra delicious.
‘But what would we do with the residents?’ asked Jasper.
‘Temporarily put them up in a hotel?’
‘How? There’s no money, remember?’
She got up off the bed and opened her wardrobe doors. In neat fabric hangers were the things she hadn’t packed up for the charity shop: the designer handbags she’d amassed over the last fifteen years or so.
Jasper shook his head. It was a rather excessive collection.
She nodded her tacit agreement. ‘I think it’s time I finally sold some of these…’