Chapter 33
Oliver
“Earth to Ollie,” Zander jokes, stealing my attention from my phone.
On the screen, there’s a selfie of Darius in a navy blue lace set, his cheeks flushed and his hair mussed.
He sent it to me this morning after I called him, my words coaxing sweet noises from his lips as he took himself in hand and over the edge.
I’m having a hard time putting the image out of my mind despite having a ton of work and a deadline to stick to, which is why I’m looking at it again.
“Sorry boss.” I lock my phone and shove it in my pocket, then slide my gloves and goggles back on.
Zander runs a hand over the thick walnut surface we’re installing in the kitchen of some bigwig attorney in Mayfair. “This is good.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d be up for another trip to France.”
I pause, my hand hovering over the orbital sander resting next to me.
“When?”
“In a few weeks. The new bathrooms are being fitted and once they’re done, I need someone out there to do the cabinetry.”
Darius flashes in my mind and the thought of being even further away from him has my stomach sinking like a weight to the bottom of the ocean.
“Can I let you know?”
Zander nods.
“Of course. Let me know by next week, yeah?”
“Sure. And thank you. For the opportunity.”
He taps my shoulder. “You’re good, Ollie. Probably the best on my team.” He drops his voice, a smirk gracing his lips. “Even if you’ve spent the entire week smiling at your phone like a lovesick teen. They must be important to you.”
I smile. “He is.”
“Good for you. Now finish this up and then you can go see your man.”
Wouldn’t that be perfect? Going home to Darius every night.
Instead, I have to be content with late-night phone calls and the few quick moments we’ve stolen to be together since last weekend.
It’s better than nothing and it’s not forever.
I placate myself with that reminder, especially when he rolls out of my bed and heads back to his fake husband.
It’s Friday night and Darius is having dinner with his father and Floyd’s mother because even though he’s no longer entertaining his father’s wish for weekly ‘family meals’, his mother-in-law has taken a real liking to him.
I can’t blame her, either. He’s perfect in every way.
The kind of guy a mother wants for her child.
It’s no wonder she’s attached herself to Darius the way she has.
I know he feels guilty about the lying and about the fact that when this all ends, she’ll get hurt.
But my sweet-hearted boyfriend cannot possibly protect the feelings of everyone.
She will be another casualty of her son’s inability to care about anyone but himself.
Fucking psycho.
Once my workday is over, I head to the gym, hitting the treadmill with a speed that has my heart pumping furiously and my muscles singing in pain.
I stop before the impulse to purge the little food I ate today hits.
I haven’t needed that in a while, and despite it still being a struggle to put an entire meal into my body, I’m happy with the progress.
For the first time in years – and I’ve admitted this to my therapist – I feel like my life is moving forward and I’m leaving those horrid parts of my past in the rearview mirror where they belong.
I opt to take the long way home, enjoying the bright evening and the feel of spring pushing through the gloom of late March in the UK.
Stopping in at the newsagent, I pick up a newspaper and a can of Red Bull.
Once I’m in my flat, I take a quick shower – send a nude selfie to Darius – and then sit on the sofa, drink in hand and the newspaper folded open to the crossword.
My phone rings when I’m trying to work out a nine letter word for ‘replica’ and I answer it as soon as I see who it is.
“Hey, baby.” I drop the pen and paper onto the seat next to me. “What are you up to?”
“Getting ready to go out for dinner.” He sighs. “I’m exhausted and cannot think of anything I would rather not do.”
“Want to come over after?”
“I better not. Floyd has been on a warpath today because of some comment his grandfather’s lawyer made. The guy cannot fake emotions, no matter how much he tries, so I really don’t think they’re buying this marriage.”
Good. Maybe someone on his side will work it out and burn it down sooner rather than later.
“You’ve played your role, D.”
“Yeah. He’s also growing suspicious. Asking who I’m messaging all the time. Wanting to know where I’m going and all that.”
“What did you tell him?”
“To mind his fucking business.” I chuckle at his bluntness, but at the same time, worry settles in my gut.
“I hate this.”
“I know. So do I. But I’ll be thinking of you all night – and that’s what will get me through playing the good husband while wearing my fake smile and this ugly ass black shirt. Because apparently, the purple one I put on earlier made me look like a slut.”
A growl rumbles in my throat, but I bite it back. I don’t care what Darius wears, he’s gorgeous to me in anything. But I especially love him in his colourful clothing and his soft fabrics and pretty lace, because I know that’s when he’s happiest and when he’s most comfortable.
“Anyway, I didn’t call to talk about him, other than to say he has a work trip tomorrow morning and won’t be back until late Sunday. I was thinking we could go out and I could stay the night at yours.”
“Yes. To the date and having you in my bed.”
He chuckles. “Even if I say it’s a double date with Caiden and Jamie?” Now I do groan out loud. “It’ll be fun,” Darius adds. “Bowling. Drinks. Maybe some dancing?”
“They hate me.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Uh, pretty sure Jamie does. The guy literally punched me.” Darius knows the full story of how I found out about his wedding. Hell, after he fucked me, we spent hours talking and telling each other everything from the days we spent apart. Filling in the gaps of our story.
I kick my feet up on the table, resting my head back on the sofa, then put my phone on loudspeaker and settle it on my chest. Staring at the ceiling, I notice there’s a crack in the plaster, and I make a note to bring it up with the landlord.
Or maybe it’s time to find somewhere bigger and better to live.
Not yet, but soon.
“You pushed Caiden first,” Darius continues. “Jamie’s protective. You can understand that, can’t you?”
My hand twitches at my side with the phantom need to shove Floyd into a brick wall, face first. “Yeah. I do.”
“Good. So that’s settled.”
“Do I get a prize for going?” I rub a hand beneath my tee, over the soft flesh of my stomach.
“Sure.” Darius is quiet for a moment, humming under his breath. “Pick a colour.”
“Yellow.”
“Good choice. Our favourite.” There’s shuffling on the other end, like fabric passing over the speaker.
“What’s my prize?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Tease.”
He laughs, but the sound dies off when there’s a loud banging on his side and another man’s voice filters through.
“Hurry the fuck up, Darius.”
“I’ll meet you there,” he responds.
“And have my mother wonder why we showed up separately, again?”Darius drops his voice.
“I have to go. Wanna watch a film over the phone together later?”
I’d rather watch it with him in my arms, but I promised to do this with him, his way, and I won’t add to the stress he’s already living.
“I’d love that. Call me when you’re home.”
My evening moves slowly, restless energy looking for an outlet as I wait for his call.
I read. Pace my flat. Make tea and toast. Run to the corner shop for another Red Bull.
Take a shower. Lie on my bed. Then the sofa.
He eventually calls and I can finally relax, kicking off my trousers and sliding into my bed in only a pair of boxers, the scent of his cologne on my pillow.
We lie together in our separate beds, a film playing on our screens.
Darius falls silent halfway through, his breathing heavy on the other side of the line.
And I stay awake for hours longer, listening and wishing he was here with me, where he belongs.
“That’s another strike!” Jamie exclaims, standing from his seat to kiss his boyfriend on the forehead before picking up his bowling ball and taking his turn.
“You didn’t tell me you were so good at this game, babe,” Darius says, sipping on his vodka and cranberry juice.
“Never played before.” Caiden shrugs and I grin, knowing he’s bullshitting us. There wasn’t much entertainment in our little Devonshire town, but we did have a three lane bowling alley slash arcade.
“Really?” Darius asks and Caiden laughs, shaking his head. “You’re full of shit,” my boyfriend says, flicking his straw at Caiden, who grimaces when the wet paper hits him in the chest.
We watch Jamie take his turn, and where Caiden is clearly good at the game, Jamie sends more balls down the gutter than the actual lane.
“Should we put the bumper bars up for you?” I ask, earning me a scowl.
“Shut it, Cross,” Jamie remarks, returning to his seat. Darius stands, ready to take his turn, but I pull him between my legs, sliding my hands up the back of his tight yellow t-shirt.
“I think I’m growing on him,” I whisper. Darius wraps his arms around my neck, looking down at me, the prettiest smile tugging on his lips.
“You’re trying to rile him up.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s so easy.”
Darius kisses me – a quick peck of his lips on mine. “Stop it. Play nice, lover.” I deepen the kiss, because I can. Because he is my boyfriend and we’re on a date and everything about this is perfect.
Over his shoulder, I see Caiden hand Jamie another beer before his eyes meet mine and he grins, tipping his head. A silent approval of the fact that I love his best friend. Not that I need it. Yet still, the acknowledgement sits comfortably in my chest.
“Get me another drink while I take my turn?” Darius asks. I stand, scooting him backward, then kiss his cheek and head to the bar and order a round of drinks for the four of us. By the time I return, it's my turn to play. I wrap my arm around Darius’s waist and rest my chin on his shoulder.
“What do I get if I win?” I whisper.
He spins in my arms.
“You’re already getting a prize tonight.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Can I have it now?” He chuckles, pushing his hand against my chest. He still has a splint on the one, but he gently taps me with it. “Later. Take your shot.”
By the time we finish our second game, we are many, many rounds of drinks down, and not even Caiden with all his bowling finesse, can knock the pins over. I’m floating on a cloud of booze and happiness, even garnering a smile from Jamie at one point.
The bowling alley is in Kingston, a few roads over from Jamie and Caiden’s, so we make a quick stop at their flat, where we left our bags earlier, intending to change before heading out again.
I take off my casual tee, replacing it with a navy blue short-sleeved shirt that hugs all my curves and edges. The fabric is sheer, with a deep V at the chest. I keep on the dark blue skinny jeans I had on earlier.
Jamie and Caiden emerge from their room next, and they’re both in black jeans. Jamie, pairing his with a snug fitting white tee with a zip down the front, and Caiden in a see-through black top that ends above his navel from where straps then criss-cross lower to the edge of his waistband.
They look ready for a night out.
Darius is the last to get ready, and when he walks into the lounge a moment later, I am speechless, choking on my words.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
He’s wearing a pair of deep purple shorts with neon yellow edges that barely cover his ass. A matching yellow harness sits snug across his chest, covered by a loose fitting white mesh crop top.
“Fuck.” I blow out a breath. Darius smiles, crosses the room and stops directly in front of me. He smells like fresh rain, citrus and sin, and I want to lose myself in him. Devour him for hours until we’re sweaty and spent.
“Close your mouth, puppy. You’re drooling.” Darius smirks, and I wrap my hands around his hips and drag him closer. “Like your present?” he asks in a whisper. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Jamie and Caiden walking out of the room.
“I love it. But fuck, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you. Maybe we should stay in.” Darius turns around, edging the back of his waistband down slightly to show off the top of a yellow thong.
He looks over his shoulder and fucking winks. “The anticipation is part of the fun.”
I love this side of him. This bright, happy, sunshine filled part that I will go to the ends of the earth to protect.
Palming his ass cheeks, I inch forward so that he can feel the bulge in my jeans.
“You’re a tease, baby.”
“Let's go!” Jamie calls from the front of the flat and I groan, rolling my head on Darius’s shoulder. He slips his hand into mine, then leads me out of the room, stopping only for his coat. And then we’re off to Central London to dance and party and revel in being young and in love.