25. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Who doesn’t love being woken up on a Sunday morning by their mother?
How about being twenty-four years old, forty-three hundred miles away, and having spent most of the night on eggshells because the man you’re falling for is too broken for his own good?
I even struggle to defend the intrusion from the standpoint of motherly love, because she didn’t seem to care about sending me off to boarding school for months at a time when I was ten. TEN! So I’m not sure why it’s so worrisome that I’ve not been in contact since arriving in Canada.
I guess it’s true to say that I do love my mother, but only in the way that she loves me. And that’s as people who never truly bonded.
As soon as she spat me out, she was back to work, and I was the nanny’s problem. But that’s the upper-class way, so I can’t really blame her or my father. All I’m saying is that it should come as no surprise that I’m closer to Romeo and Saxon than I am to my own flesh and blood. Save my grandfather. Not my French namesake, but my dad’s dad.
During extended school breaks when the boys and I had to return home, I’d have one night in the family penthouse in Bristol—overlooking the river Avon—before being carted off to Grandad’s estate. What teenager wouldn’t want to trade the rich-kid city life for rolling hills and a fierce west wind?
Grandad was the fucking dog’s bollocks, though.
He was upper class as fuck, but when it was just the two of us, he was more like that one guy at the local pub that everyone loves. They hang around, tell the best stories, and even buy a round every now and then. And, in his posh Cambridgeshire accent, he taught me to swear, pack a pipe, and even how to smoke it.
Henry was my hero.
Last winter when he died of lung cancer was the hardest time of my life.
Saxon’s trial was nearing its end, and I had to put on a brave face for his sake. But Grandad was my everything. With him, I could at least say for certain that someone in my family loved me.
At his wake, Romeo, Saxon, and I smoked his pipe and promised it would be our last as an homage. And, whilst I don’t like the fact that Kai smokes, it is a smell I will always find comforting.
In his will, Grandad put money aside for me in a trust with the stipulation that I complete my Masters at Imperial College London within two years of finishing my degree. His school. The best years of his life. And that’s why my time here is so finite. Just over twelve months from now, I need to be back in London attending my first class. But it’s not for the money. It’s because it’s what he wanted.
JEAN: Yes, I’m fine. I can Facetime you later if you like.
MUM: No, it’s alright, just touch base from time to time so I know you’re still alive. Love you.
JEAN: Love you too.
And that’s how me and my kin show love: hollow, and ceremonial, and always reminding me how much more I treasure my chosen family. The one I haven’t seen nearly enough of this week.
JESSE: What ya up to, ya Spanish twat?
ROMEO: Recovering .
JESSE: Did Cleo come crawling back?
ROMEO : You can think so if it makes you happy.
JESSE: How ominous… Have your ass in the kitchen in ten minutes.
ROMEO: Whatever .
Rolling out of bed and onto a pile of dirty clothes that never made it to the hamper, I spot a piece of paper shoved under my door. Scurrying towards it on all fours, I clench it tightly in my hands for several long moments before daring to open it.
Grinning like a fool, I stare at Kai’s handwriting—existing in the moment like evil, and pain, and grief don’t exist.
By the time the lift doors open on the ground level, Romeo is exiting the stairwell.
“Mornin’,” he greets me with a jerk of his chin. “It feels like I haven’t seen you lads in ages.”
“Maw,” I joke, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “Are you going through withdrawals?”
“Not the kind you can help me with, mate,” he chuckles dryly, weaving his arm between us, grabbing a fistful of my hair, and yanking my head back before darting away from me and into the kitchen. By the time I find him amidst the breakfast rush, he’s a meter away from Kai. “How’s it goin’, fruitcake?” he asks cooly, pulling up a seat across the table from him.
“All the better now you’re here,” Kai smolders, and for the first time, I see the mask. It may as well be a flashing sign above his head. Or one of those cartoon arrows jolting back and forth for how obvious it is. For how easy it is to spot how uncomfortable he is in his body language. Jittery feet below the table. The hand in his lap balled into a tight fist. I should have noticed earlier, but just like everyone else, he had my attention transfixed elsewhere.
Kai looks towards where I’m still standing awkwardly between him and Romeo. And like an Instagram filter being switched off, the charismatic stare he offered Romeo, dulls.
It wasn’t my plan to run into him this morning.
If I’d seen him before Romeo did, I’d have made an excuse to leave.
If dealing with Saxon for fourteen years has taught me anything, it’s that some people need time and space. And after what we both experienced last night, I don’t have any idea what to say to him.
“Just take a fucking seat, sweet thing,” Kai croons, but I can hear how forced it is.
“Sorry. You know how nervous I get around you,” I flirt back, my face falling into apology mode as soon as Romeo is looking away.
“What ya got there?” Romeo asks him, studying Kai’s plate.
“Leftovers from last night. But there’s scrambled eggs and bacon today.”
With an overly salacious grin, Romeo taps me on the shoulder. “C’mon, Jess. You made me come, so let’s go.”
Bypassing the regular fare, we gaze at the Bain Marie’s of mass-prepared breakfast food like its three Michelin star fine dining.
“This almost makes up for their lack of decent tea.” I step forward. “I’ll have some of that, that, and that,” I tell Romeo, and leave him to get us something to drink.
Shoving one of those tiny mini-bar-sized bottles of orange juice under my arm, I head to the coffee station. Like it’s some secret staff Christmas I don’t know about, there’s a full basket of pods beside the coffee maker instead of the ‘dishwater special’ being the only option.
Selecting a ristretto capsule for Romeo and popping it in the machine, I turn back to Kai.
Sullen is the only way I can describe how he looks sitting there, defeated.
Searching through the pods, I select a medium espresso and make—as much as one can make something that is totally automated—a coffee for Kai as well.
“Sorry about this,” I apologize and present my caffeine peace offering. “I don’t know if you feel like company, but Romi wanted you, and who am I to pull him away?”
“The guy has good taste,” he says dryly as I sit.
Relaxing into my chair, I lock eyes with him in the hopes they will brighten, but the look I get back is shallow at best. “He’s not the only one with good taste,” I tell him as gently as I can while still getting my point across.
“Look who’s being bold this morning.”
“It’s normally your job.”
With his elbows still on the table, Kai lifts his hands to shrug. “I’m on break.”
“I didn’t know you worked on Sundays.”
His brooding face cracks a smile at the silliness of my joke. “You’re an idiot.”
I tilt my head. “A cute idiot.”
“You’re a pretty idiot,” he corrects me after taking a sip of his coffee.
“I miss talking to you like this.”
He nods. “It kinda makes me feel like everything could be okay.”
“It still can be.”
Kai’s eyes blink slowly, and any tension I’d been able to sweet-talk out of his system is back with a vengeance.
“Tell me how it can be when I wake up with shit like this?” Sliding off his black denim jacket until it’s bunching at his elbows, Kai then pulls up the sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal a giant bruise. Purple, and indigo, and fading out to yellow, it’s visible on almost every spot of un-inked skin on his upper arm. “Hurts like a bitch,” he mutters, tugging down his sleeve and shrugging his jacket back on.
“I’m not gonna pretend like I have an answer for that. It’s fucked… It’s just. It’s fucked,” I repeat. “But I’m not going to tell you I feel sorry for you either.”
Kai screws up his face and looks at me, almost in disgust. “I never asked for your pity.”
“True.” I nod. “But what you did do is practically force me to want you.” I lean in closer. “You’re doing it again now… And… you’re so fucking sexy when you’re confident.”
“I’m sure you know by now that it’s an act.”
“I don’t know if I do.” I lean back in my chair, making sure not to crowd him. “What I am certain of, though, is that Kai Tremblay—the real one—is the cocky bastard who picked me up from the airport. And that guy just so happens to get vulnerable sometimes. And…” I pause. “I don’t think it’s as big of a turnoff as he does.”
Closing his eyes, Kai fists his hands in front of his mouth.
His rumination feels like decades as every movement of the cheap clock on the wall ticks louder and louder, drowning out everything else in its incessant drive to go round, and round, and—
Kai pulls his hands away from his mouth, his lips part, and—
“Here ya go, wifey,” Romeo interrupts, sliding a plate in front of me.
Swallowing my disappointment, I counter with; “And there you go, my devoted husband. Do make sure to replenish your strength before you spend another night cheating on me.”
“Who’s the lucky girl this time?” Kai asks, pretending to be interested.
“Cleo,” I answer for him.
Romeo picks up his fork and points to me with it. “I never admitted to anything.”
“She does get better the more turns you get,” Kai adds nonchalantly, like sleeping with Cleo was like learning to ride a bike. Which—in itself—is a freaking hilarious metaphor.
“Happy memories?” I ask with a tinge of sass.
“Yeah,” Kai responds bluntly. “But I should probably watch what I say so you don’t get jealous.”
“There’s enough of you to go around.” I wave my hand flippantly. “You two should share stories… Is her ass as good as her tits?”
“Nup,” says Romeo.
“Yes,” nods Kai at the same time.
I rubberneck between them and notice Kai looking at Romeo, just as confused as I am.
Romeo fidgets with his fork. “You know me, Jess. I’m a tits man. And when they’re that perfect, nothing else matters.”
“They’re good, I’ll give you that,” Kai starts, clearly suspicious of his reasoning. “But who wouldn’t want to explore further? A girl as willing as Cleo doesn’t come along that often. And let me tell you. That ass is delicious.”
“Looks like you found yourself a soulmate here, Jess.” Romeo nudges my arm, a little too happy to redirect the spotlight. “No wonder you were eye fucking Mavis. Did Jess tell you she let him park it round the back?”
Jesus Christ on a cracker!
No, Romi, I haven’t told him.
“Fuck,” Kai sighs dreamily. “Lucky… I can just imagine how nice it must have been to pound into that.”
“Damn it, Kai. You’re turning me on,” Romeo wisecracks.
“It was something else,” I agree—happy the conversation is flowing without the sense anyone is faking it.
“Your first time?” Kai asks.
I nod.
“Yeah.” He grins. “I can tell you’re hooked already.” Kai licks his lips, looks me up and down just like when we first met, and then diverts his attention back to Romeo. “Did Cleo ask you for it?”
“Ah-um, yeah. She did, actually.”
“You can blame me for that.” Kai turns back to me. “Seems she can’t get enough of it after I showed her how it’s done properly.”
A wave of heat flashes up from my toes, making my cheeks and ears burn.
“Well, like I said. It ain’t my thing,” Romeo mumbles as he chews on.
“Just finger her in the ass while you fuck her doggie. She’ll be happy.” Kai winks at me, and I swallow hard.
This is not an unusual conversation for me. I have intimate knowledge of how both my best friends like to fuck. And, on occasion, even witnessed it firsthand. But nothing was ever misconstrued. It was always black and white. And their words never affected me like Kai’s do.
Never was there an agenda hidden from everyone else, but so obvious to me.
Never had the words that left their mouth changed meaning entirely upon entering my ears.
I like banging that bird , had never meant, I wanna fuck you , and I’m so damned good at it …
Fumbling with the bottle of orange juice, I eventually manage to get the lid off at the exact time a text comes through Messenger on my phone.
KAI : Your dick’s hard, isn’t it?
Without moving, my eyes rise from the screen to meet his before bashfully lowering again.
KAI : God, you turn me on so much.
JESSE : You could help me out.
KAI : Won’t Romeo feel left out?
JESSE : Someone’s feeling confident.
KAI : I’d rather feel your cock.
JESSE : Don’t start something you don’t plan on finishing.
KAI : Aren’t you having fun just flirting?
JESSE : No! Quit teasing me unless you plan on helping me cum.
KAI : You know I want to, but I can’t.
I stew on my final reply until the anger has softened any anticipation the bastard created.
Time after time Kai gives me what I need only to pull away faster than a bullet train, and I’m sick to death of it. I feel tricked. Manipulated by his charm. And I’m beginning to question how truthful his feelings actually are.
JESSE : You’re such a cunt, and I’m too smart to keep putting up with your bullshit.