Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
RIAN
Sean strolls into Elixir and heads straight to where I’m propping up the bar.
I try not to overindulge in my own establishments.
I learnt the hard way not to shit on my own doorstep—but after poker night listening to Anthony brag about how many ways he fucked his PA while Rebekka was in New York for Thanksgiving, I needed something to take the edge off.
‘Who pissed on your bonfire?’ My brother drops onto the high stool beside me. A frown creases his thick, dark eyebrows.
‘Don’t ask.’ The way I feel, given how much I’ve had to drink, I’m liable to tell him.
The secret I’m harbouring is eating me alive.
The yearning, the burning, it’s fucking killing me.
I haven't seen or spoken to Rebekka since the night we kissed, but I’ve thought of her a million times a day since.
This time of year isn't helping. Everywhere I go, Christmas music is crooning about love and lust and blah blah blah. It’s getting harder and harder to maintain my mask.
And I’m ashamed to say I’ve been calling my dear friend Anthony more than usual, not because I’m particularly interested in his life—no—I’m more interested in his wife.
Specifically, if he’s been treating her any better.
If she’s okay. If she’s happy. All I’ve heard from him is how happy he is.
Business is booming, apparently. His PA sucks like a hoover.
And he’s on the verge of completing another ruthless takeover with a British bank.
‘Do I need to round up our brothers?’ Sean motions to the barman to pour him a whiskey, and another one for me.
I don’t need any more, but it’s not like I’ve got anyone to rush home to.
After Rebekka’s whispered confession in the back of the Bentley, I haven't even looked at another woman, let alone fucked one. Truth is, if I can’t have her, I don’t want anyone.
‘Nope,’ I pop the P and pick up my drink.
‘What’s wrong with you lately?’ Sean dips his face closer to mine. ‘You’re normally so happy-go-lucky. Your mood swings are giving me whiplash.’
I exhale heavily. ‘You ever had a secret that you couldn't tell anyone? Like not even me.’ I thumb my chest harder than I intend and flinch.
‘Yes.’ Sean laughs then, low and long. ‘No offence, but you’re the last person I’d tell anything remotely private to.’
My jaw drops open. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m just a big joke to you all, aren’t I?’
‘No, you’re not a joke, but you’re usually a joker.’ He rubs a palm over the stubble skimming his chin. ‘What’s eating at you?’
I pause, and we stare at each other long and hard until something lights his eyes. ‘Are you…?’
‘What?’ I drawl.
‘All your teasing about me being gay…’ He inches in closer. ‘…Are you?’
I snort. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Do you know how many women I’ve fucked this year?’ I roll my eyes.
‘That’s precisely my point.’ Sean lifts his glass to his lips and stares at me over the rim as he drinks. ‘What exactly are you trying to prove? And to who?’
‘What makes you think I’m trying to prove anything?
’ I swirl the whiskey in my glass. Sean’s the quietest of my brothers, but we’re the closest in age and he’s the one I spend the most time with.
Well, he was, before he shacked up with Princess Layla.
I’m happy for him, really I am, but being the last single Beckett brother is getting old, very fast. Christmas dinner will be more like a feast for the five hundred when you add in the wives, girlfriends, kids, pets, in-laws, out-laws and a partridge in a pear tree.
‘I don’t know, you just seem… lonely or something.
’ Sean reaches out to touch my bicep. His sincerity shakes me to my core.
‘You’re young. I know it’s weird, all of us settling down and getting engaged and married, but it’ll happen for you too one day.
You’ll find the right person when you least expect it. ’
I scoff. ‘Who says I haven’t already?’
Me and my big mouth.
Sean’s eyes widen and his mouth forms a silent O.
‘Hypothetically speaking,’ I recover.
‘Well, hypothetically speaking, when you meet the right person, you should be grinning into a glass instead of trying to drown in one.’
I sigh, drain my whiskey and motion for another one. Sean arches a single eyebrow but says nothing.
‘Does she—he—not feel the same?’ He says gently.
A bitter laugh leaves my lips as the memory of Rebekka’s mouth on mine hits me like a ten tonne truck. ‘If the way she kissed me, and the way her body responded to mine is anything to go by, I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.’
Sean stares at me for a long beat, confusion misting his pupils. ‘So if you like her, and she likes you, what exactly is the problem?’
My gaze remains locked on my brother’s. ‘She’s married,’ I spit.
Both eyebrows shoot skyward this time. ‘I see.’
But he doesn’t—he doesn’t see the half of it.
Our parents raised us to be respectful, to treat women like queens, which in fairness, all of my brothers do.
My parents have a happy marriage. A strong one.
They lead by example. They would be horrified if they realised I was obsessed with a married woman, let alone my friend’s wife.
‘Do I know her?’ Sean asks quietly.
‘Does it matter?’ I shake my head. ‘It doesn’t change the situation.’
Sean thrums his fingers on the bar counter, and I know it’s only a matter of time before he works out it’s Rebekka.
‘I don’t know what to say. I thought Layla was off-limits, but fuck, at least she wasn’t married.’
‘Thanks, that’s really helpful,’ I flash him a sarcastic smile.
‘What does Anthony say about this? He might have more experience with this type of thing than me…’
I stare pointedly at him, watching as his pupils practically double in size. ‘You. Are. Fucking. Joking.’
I shrug and sigh, waiting for him to digest this new piece of information.
‘How long?’
‘How long have I been obsessed with her?’ I glance at the chunky silver timepiece on my wrist. ‘Exactly three years, nine weeks and five days.’
‘Fuck,’ he splutters. Horror etches into the lines around his mouth. ‘Have you been having an affair?’ His tone is incredulous.
‘One kiss. That was all.’
Clarity creeps across his face. ‘Hozier.’
‘Yep.’
‘This is bad. Really fucking bad, bro.’ He takes a huge mouthful of whiskey and signals to the barman for two more.
‘I know.’ I sigh.
‘He’s your best friend—even if he is a total douche,’ Sean reminds me.
‘They exchanged vows. Their families are bound so tightly in business, I doubt there’s a solicitor in this world that could legally separate them—and that’s even supposing she wants to, and I’m damn sure he won’t let her go that easily—even if he is putting his dick about like a dog. ’
‘Believe me, I’ve thought about this. I didn't choose to have feelings for her. It just happened. After the Hozier concert… I’ve stayed away. Seeing her is so hard. Then again, not seeing her isn’t exactly a fucking picnic either.’
‘You know they’ll both be at the Beckett annual ball next week?’ He rolls his lips together thoughtfully. ‘How are you going to pretend everything is normal when it’s so fucked up, it’s not even funny?’
‘Same way I always do.’ I raise my glass, clink it against his, and force my widest smile until my cheeks feel like they might crack.
‘This isn’t good. If you and her…’ He motions with his hands. ‘If she… If Anthony so much as gets a whiff of this, he’ll do everything in his power to ruin you—to ruin all of us Becketts. You know he has a real vicious streak.’
‘It won’t come to that.’ The words don’t come out quite as vehemently as I hoped. ‘You will keep this to yourself, right?’
‘Course I fucking will. I don’t have a death wish.’
‘Neither do I.’ Though, I would burn the world down for her if she asked me to. Or at least, hand her the match and stand by her side if she preferred to do it herself.
It won’t come to that.
It can’t.
But I can’t go on like this either.
I just don’t know how to move on.
And truthfully, I don’t want to.