Chapter 11
After eating the delicious lasagna Jack cooked, we watched another movie in total silence, and other than the odd movie quote we both recited during its play-through, neither of us said anything.
There was an elephant in the room, the air was thick with tension surrounding it, and the more I thought of having that conversation, the more uncomfortable I became and the more I found myself questioning whether I should even mention it at all.
Three messages ping through to my phone, and when I flick my eyes to it the screen lights up with Toby’s name—yes, again.
How has it not registered to him from our earlier argument upstairs that I’m not interested in hashing this out any further.
It’s over. I’ve come to terms with it, so why isn’t he?
I’m assuming none of the things in either of those three messages are going to be nice to read, so I forgo picking up my phone and reading them. It’s not worth it, and neither is he.
Focussing back on the movie and trying to ignore the frustration now running through me, I lift my leg onto the couch and rest my chin on my knee. The movie pauses and I groan inwardly, knowing full well Jack is going to say something. I roll my head to the side and look at him.
Jack nods towards my phone impassively. “Do you not want to get that? Seems like someone is desperate to get a hold of you.”
“He’s not important,” I answer blankly, because he’s not. Toby hasn’t been important to me for a while, and god forbid Jack sees some of the things that douchebag says to me. That would be far too embarrassing.
“Was he the one you were arguing with during the early course of this morning?”
The question catches me off guard and I sigh softly. “Ex-boyfriend.”
“Ah.” He nods in understanding. There’s a few seconds of silence before Jack speaks again. “Want to talk about it?”
A small smile grows on my face due to how sweet it is that he’s actually asking. “That’s sweet of you. He had a bad accident, and I couldn’t be with someone like him anymore, y’know?”
“An accident? That’s it?” The space between his brows pinches and he looks at me curiously.
I nod, taking the remote control from his hand and pressing play on the movie. “Yeah. He had a really bad fall. Fell dick-first into my best friend.”
There’s silence for a beat, and then a deep grumble belts out from beside me and I jolt back in shock.
Jack sits there with his head dropped back against the sofa, his shoulders jostling up and down with mirth.
The sound of his enjoyment is loud and free, yet also rough and velvety as it rumbles out of him and fills the room.
“That’s right,” I snort. “Laugh at my pain why don’t you.” I smack his shoulder lightly with the back of my hand.
He presses his hand to the area and rolls his head to face me. “No, I’m not, it’s just… your mother cheated on me with the chef who would cook at the dinner parties she would throw here.”
My jaw drops as I stare at him. I’m completely and utterly shocked at the words that just came from his mouth, and all my reaction does is make him laugh even harder. “You’re lying.”
“Nope, caught them myself. I’m more upset about losing the cook than anything.” He chuckles more.
“Jesus, I knew my mother was a cunt, but I didn’t expect her to be a cheating cunt.” I join in with his laughter.
Jack stands up from the couch, taking both our empty bottles with him. “You want another beer? Or something else? I have wine somewhere in the fridge.”
“Eurgh.” I grimace at the thought of drinking any kind of wine my mother still has stashed away.
Her taste in grape juice is hardly enjoyable, and that’s putting it plainly.
“No thanks, I’ll just stick with what you’re having if it’s all the same.
” He nods, and I smile up at him as he passes and makes his way into the kitchen.
My phone starts ringing with an unknown number and stupidly I pick it up, not even thinking there could be a snake on the other end.
“Hello?” I sing.
When I hear Toby begin to speak, my stomach automatically drops, and I start to feel sick.
Trust this little oxygen bandit to not only ruin my morning, but my fucking movie night with the hot beekeeper, too.
“Finally you answered,” he snaps. “How much longer are you going to act like a child before you forgive me?”
This posh little prick has the audacity to say I’m acting like a child.
I scoff in disbelief at his attitude. “At this point I think there’s something genuinely wrong with you. Why on earth, and in what fucking universe, do you think there is any chance of me forgiving you?”
I can’t see him, but I know he’s rolling his eyes. “Oh come on, Robyn, it was a mistake. I told you I was drunk; how many times do I need to say it before it sinks into your thick fucking skull? I thought it was—”
“Toby, I swear to God himself, if you finish that sentence I’ll run you over with your dead grandmother’s mobility scooter when I get back to London!” I’m seething at the audacity of this fucking gremlin. Like, who does he really think he is?
“Oh, come on,” he groans in aggravation, like he has any right whatsoever to feel pissed at me when I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.
“You were drunk, yes, but that still doesn’t give you the right to cheat on me!
You thought it was me? Bullshit. You knew it wasn’t me!
Lisa is literally a third of the size of me, c’mon.
You don’t think I’m really going to buy that shit, do you? ”
I’m trying my best to keep my voice as low as possible—Jack doesn’t need to hear this, and it was stupid of me to answer the phone in the first place.
“Okay. Y’know what? Fine!” he shouts so loudly down the other end of the phone that I have to pull it away from my ear.
I don’t even need to have him on loudspeaker with how over the top he’s being right now.
“Yes, I knew it was Lisa! I knew I wasn’t fucking you, because fucking her isn’t like fucking an animal. ”
“Excuse me?” My eyes widen in shock.
“Come on, Robyn, it’s not like you’re the tiniest girl in the world. You’ve changed since we got together… the… weight is and should be a problem for you!”
Memories of how my mother would insult me, starve me, and constantly berate me for the things I ate when she was still married to my father filter through my mind, and I freeze up.
It’s taken me so long to get over the mental abuse Jennifer subjected me to regarding my weight, and hearing this from him only brings all the pain and anguish back to me in a flash.
The back of my throat feels like I’m swallowing acid when I choke out, “Stop.” I won’t cry; I refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing it because he doesn’t deserve my tears.
“At least Lisa gives me some attention considering my girlfriend works all the hours God sends and barely has enough time for me!” he barks.
“I’m fucking sick of having to beg you for some of your time.
So yes, I cheated, but it’s your fault! Now, I expect you to come home from…
wherever the fuck you are, so we can work this out and you can take accountability for your actions. ”
Accountability for my actions?
Is this asshole completely fucking deluded?
I don’t get a chance to respond to his bullshit when the phone is snatched out of my hand, and as I look up at Jack standing there with a face like thunder, all the pain I feel quickly dissipates.
Slowly, he drops to his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart and situating himself between them.
He places my cell phone on the cushion beside me and taps his finger on the loudspeaker.
Toby’s voice fills the room, the sound of him berating me becoming background noise I’m not even paying attention to anymore because all I can seem to focus on is the way Jack is staring at me.
My skin tingles with excitement as he languidly glides the palms of his hands up my bare thighs, and when he reaches the waistband of my pajama shorts, he curves them beneath the elastic.
“I thought you said it would never happen again,” I murmur, my voice cracking as my heartbeat speeds up and my breathing becomes hoarse.
Toby groans in frustration. “And it won’t! Are you even listening to what I’m saying to you?” he shouts, even though I wasn’t addressing him in the first place. “This is absolutely ridiculous… it was one fucking time, and—” Toby continues chatting away, loving the sound of his own voice as usual.
I roll my lips together as Jack fights his own smirk, his hands roughly yanking my shorts and thong all the way down my legs before tossing the fabric somewhere else in the room.
He nods at my hoodie and whispers, “That too.”
Coiling my fingers beneath the hem of my hoodie, I try to calm my shaking hands as I shuck the thick material up and over my head, releasing it behind the back of the sofa.
I’m now completely bare for him, not a stick of clothing on my body because I chose to forgo my bra when I got dressed earlier.
His eyes roam my shape, taking all of me in, and I watch in pure rapture as his pupils begin to dilate, and a look of utter desire builds in his expression.
The feel of his hands as they slip over every inch of my soft stomach, hips, and thighs, as though he’s permitting my naked form to memory.
Jack leans up on his knees, moving closer to me, and my nipples peak with all the anticipation of what’s going to happen.
Fuck.
Soft bristles of his beard skate along my cheek as he brings his lips to the shell of my ear.
Without thinking, my body naturally arches to meet his firm chest, eager for some kind of contact with his, and as the soft fabric of his sweatshirt glides against my breasts, I release a soft whimper.
“Jack,” I breathe, low enough that Toby doesn’t hear his name.
“So impatient, but so willing to let me do whatever I want, aren’t you?” His words come out throaty and guttural.