19. CHAPTER NINETEEN
To say we’ve been working solidly, side by side with only a meter between us, for the past four hours wouldn’t be an understatement. But it’s not busier than yesterday. We haven’t been run off our feet, and I know the system now, so technically there was more time when guests weren’t crowding us. Even so, the whole time it’s felt like I have some invisible force field around me forbidding Kai from coming closer. Or acknowledging me for anything non-work related.
I know I said last night that rejection sucked. But at least then I could cling onto the hope that he was only spooked and some sleep would help him come to his senses. But that was before the screams. Before Alma kicked me in the chest and I spent the next three hours on the floor with my back to the door in case he needed me.
All I want is to know if he’s okay.
To ask if he remembers anything.
Seeing him this morning eased so much of my tension. Until he ignored me.
Just being around him made me feel whole. Until he jumped down Wade’s throat.
I know jealousy when I see it, but fuck him if he thinks that’s enough.
If Kai thinks playing caveman—banging his chest and grunting at anyone else who comes near me—is enough, he’s sorely mistaken. I may feel like shit right now, but that won’t stop me from making him as uncomfortable as I am.
Five minutes after the last guest has left, Esther pokes her head through the door. “Good morning, boys?” she asks cheerfully.
We both reply in a monotone hum.
“That good, ha? Who wants first lunch?”
I don’t answer. If Kai wants to get away from me so badly, he can.
“Jess can go first.”
“Whatever.” I fling open the drawer, grab my phone, and storm to the door in a huff.
“Trouble in paradise? You pair seemed like a happy couple yesterday.”
“We’re not a fucking couple,” I curse, slithering past Esther and into the back hall.
“Excuse me?!” she reprimands, but I stay turned away from her. She can fire me if she wants. I couldn’t give any less of a fuck.
“Don’t.” Kai pulls her attention. “He didn’t mean it…”
No. I definitely did.
“... It’s my fault, anyway.”
Aw, what a big boy. Admitting to someone else that you’re all piss and wind after thirty seconds when I’ve been standing next to you for the past four fucking hours!
“What did you do this time?” Esther sighs, closing the door behind her and leaving me in the all-clear.
Not stopping in the staff room, I head straight outside and back to the dorms. Back to more familiar territory, where—for once—I know Kai won’t pop up unexpectedly.
My already atrocious hair is a total bird’s nest by the time I walk through the automatic doors, but I care even less about it than I did this morning. To be honest, I care about a lot of things less than I did this morning. And at the top of that list is whether or not a gap year is still a good idea. School hasn’t started yet, so it’ll be easy enough to un-defer my master’s. Saxon will still have Romeo, and I’ll move back into my room in the terrace. I’ll pay my share of the rent and play landlord for the Airbnb-ers who use the boy’s rooms.
I’m in the kitchen by the time I’ve talked myself back into staying because I know I can’t leave Saxon.
The joint is packed, but empty or full. I don’t care. I’m not even certain I can eat as I slump into a seat at the last empty table. I know I’m hungry, but the way my stomach is turning over itself, I’d just as likely projectile whatever I force down.
“Maw, did you come back to have lunch with me?” Soft hands slide over my shoulders until Cleo’s arms are wrapped around my neck and she’s pushing her giant tits into the back of my head. I should love it—and I guess part of me does—but no matter how hot she is, and no matter what she’s offering, there’s no way I’m up for it.
“Na. Just didn’t feel like eating at the hotel.” I lie.
Releasing me, Cleo pulls out the seat beside me. “You just missed Romeo.”
It’s like she’s my ample bosomed guardian angel, because humor at a friend’s expense will always lighten my mood. “How did he look?”
“Not great… Still hot as fuck, though.”
I roll my eyes. “You have the most one-track mind of any girl I’ve ever met.”
“Why thank you.” She does a little bow like it’s a compliment.
“So, you and Romeo seemed close the other night.”
With a swift, sharp exhale, Cleo’s eyes unfocus. It’s quick, but I spot it—a tiny crack in her shell. “Yeah? What about it?” she says confidently, running her hand through the top of her hair and letting it fall seductively to the side. “We had a great night. Might hit him up again later.” Leaving her elbows on the edge of the table, she slides her chair back until her tits almost fall out of her top before standing. “I’m getting a drink. You want one?”
“Coke, thanks.”
She nods, holds two cans in her left hand, then steps to the side. “Food?” she calls back to me.
“What is there?”
“Not much… Sweet or savory?”
“Sweet.”
Chin on her shoulder, she winks back at me and jiggles her hips.
Smirking, I shake my head and contemplate whether I should tell her it didn’t have the desired effect. Quite the opposite actually, because no matter how good she may look, all I see is Romeo standing in the kitchen of Saxon’s terrace back in London. Apron on, with only black boxer briefs underneath, cooking us breakfast like he did every Sunday morning.
And goddamn, all that proves is how whipped for Kai I am. Not even a solid ten. Flaunting herself in front of me has my brain fantasizing about what sounds she’d make if I bent her over the sink.
“Bon appetit.” Cleo slides a plate of brownies and muffins onto the table.
“Cheers.” I take a can from her hand and wait until she’s seated before picking up a brownie. “It’s a bit dry,” I mumble.
“They always are. But being free makes them taste a little better.”
“Hate to know what they’d taste like if I paid.” I return it to the plate and poke at one of the muffins. “Why are you here for lunch, anyway? Don’t you get free food on the mountain?”
“First lesson isn’t till one.”
“Fuck. You really do have it easy.”
“Being a skilled worker is the best. We get paid the same amount for a whole day of work, no matter how many lessons we do. And if we flirt just right, there’s a big fat tip in it too.”
“And I’m sure you know exactly what to utilize.” I wave my hand towards her cleavage.
“If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” She shakes her chest, and I stare. She wants me to, so it would be rude not to. “So, how’s work going with you? Having fun with Kai?”
My gaze falls from lusciousness to the table, then to each individual crumb surrounding the plate between us until I’m staring at my own twiddling fingers.
“Oh, god,” she giggles. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Sorry, Cleo, but I don’t feel like baring my soul to you.
“How much do you know about him?”
“Not a lot. But more than most.”
I look at her; well go on.
She grins almost proudly, and leans in. “I was the first one he hooked up with when he arrived. He made the rounds but kept coming back until we both just… only slept with each other… Not out of the need—or want—of a relationship, but more for the mutual respect of it all. I never had to talk to him about wanting zero commitment, because we were always on the same page.” She pauses like she’s seeking approval to keep going.
Lowering my chin, I look at her through my eyelashes as if to say, babe, you ain’t gonna get any judgment from me.
Grinning, she continues. “He’s an awesome lay. And, even though letting a man be that in control in the bedroom isn’t typically my thing, I learned to appreciate it. But—having said that—we only ever fucked in my room. And he never slept over… Come to think of it, we only ever hooked up during the day. Late afternoon was a push.”
“Um…” I start before realizing it might not be my place to mention what happened last night.
“Well, you have to tell me what you’re thinking now.” Cleo scoots her chair closer.
“Last night, he—ah… Was screaming. For someone to stop doing… Something?”
“Ha.” Cleo leans back in her chair. “I didn’t think he was having those anymore.”
“Having what?”
“Night terrors.” The revelation rolls off her tongue without a second thought. “They were pretty bad when he first arrived.” Cleo’s jaw goes slack, her eyes roll up in a cute quirk, and she smacks herself on the forehead. “That’s probably why he’d never stay over.”
Yeah, no shit.
“That’s probably it.” I nod, trying my hardest to not let her know she’s dead from the neck up for only figuring that out now. “Do you know how often he has them?”
Cleo shakes her head. “Your guess is as good as mine. They’re pretty bad, though. He’d have bruises all over.”
My stomach sinks like the single bite of brownie is mocking me. “I was trying to get into his room last night, but Alma wouldn’t let me.”
“She’s kinda protective of him.” Cleo breaks off a piece of muffin and, after licking the crumbs off her fingers, she looks at me, almost surprised by the desperation on my face. But then her features soften and I know she understands what I need her to know without being able to say it. “You like him, don’t you?”
I don’t answer. I just continue to stare.
“I thought I picked up on that at the bar the other night, but I wasn’t sure.” Putting the muffin down, Cleo drags her seat closer until its legs clink with mine. “It’s new to you, isn’t it?”
I nod.
“That’s so hot,” she smirks. “Can I watch?”
“Cleo!”
“Just consider it, alright?” Her face drops its playful grin and I know she’s serious. “Look, Alma knows him better than anyone. And I’m pretty sure she’s the closest he’s ever gotten to being properly exclusive. But word around says he called it off. So you might be in with a chance. But…” The apprehension in her voice is deafening. “He’s damaged goods. How? I don’t know, but when you’re intimate with a person as many times as we were, you just pick up on those kinds of things. Having said that, I still stand by what I said the other day—he’s fucking magical. But he’s carrying something around that I never cared enough to ask about.” There’s shame in her voice, but I couldn’t blame her. Dealing with your own demons is more than enough for some people.
“Do you know anything about him from before he arrived?”
“Just basic stuff. Went to Uni in Toronto. He’s from bum-fuck Manitoba. The kind of small town kids escape from the moment they graduate high school…” Cleo lets out a long breath. “Guy or girl, it’s gonna take a special kind of person for him to settle down for. And not just because he fucks like a wild animal.” Her grin is back with a vengeance. “In the words of Shrek, the guy’s an onion. He’s got a lot of layers, and it’s gonna take a lot of tears to peel them back.”