CHAPTER 9
MYLES
Shirley and Brian leave us to it after lunch, packing up their car to head back to Coventry. Is it weird to say that I’m somewhat sad to see them go? They’re not my parents, so maybe that has something to do with why. Especially since Beau seems to think we’re going to have more fun now they’re gone.
Because Beau is on holiday and he has no shame, he takes the hair of the dog route and starts necking bottles of beer the second his parents are gone.
“Who’s up for drunk Monopoly?” He grins from his throne—also known as the armchair—positioned perfectly to watch TV.
“Only if I can be the car,” Stavros demands. From across the room, Sheridan rolls her eyes as she sits on the sofa in the very corner.
“How do you imagine us doing that when there’s only seven pieces?” Emma points out.
Beau just shrugs. “We pair up.” Like water off a duck’s back. The man has an answer for everything. “I’m bagsying Sheridan, though.”
“Of course you’d pick Sheridan, she always wins Monopoly,” Brinsley complains.
“I’m really good at Monopoly, too.” Stavros winks at her.
“Er,” she wrinkles her nose right back. “No, thanks. I pick Em.”
“Whatever. Nash is smarter than you, anyway.” He shrugs.
Brinsley simply gives him her middle finger.
“Guess it’s me and you then, Myles.” JP nudges me from my left.
“As long as you’re alright with losing, because I am utter shit at it.”
“Eh,” he simply shrugs, “can’t be good at everything.”
He makes a valid point. I won at bowling yesterday, so my pride is still intact.
“Alright, let’s do it.” Nash stands and leaves the room in search of the popular game.
* * *
We get absolutely demolished by Sheridan. I can’t even include Beau in the narrative, because he has barely contributed all night, just sitting there nursing his next beer while occasionally whispering utter bollocks to his sister about what they should do next. And Sheridan usually ignores him because his ideas are stupid.
JP and I tapped out first because his attention span is abysmal—I honestly don’t know how he plays football for ninety minutes professionally every weekend without getting bored—and I have the negotiating skills of the average candidate on The Apprentice.
I watch in fascination as Sheridan plays a beautifully tactical game that winds up with her bankrupting the other teams out due to a frankly obscene number of hotels positioned on the board, including on the dark blue properties.
“Well, I guess we know you’re not a gold digger,” Bailey jokes as she helps tidy away the pieces. “That was kinda beautiful to watch.”
“I love watching women bring men to their proverbial financial knees.” Brin agrees.
“And you should know how to play better, mate.” Beau points a finger at his twin. “You’ve got a degree in business and hospitality.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Nash snaps. “You’re the most financially responsible footballer known to man and yet you just made us play almost four hours of a stupid board game and forced yourself onto a team with Shez knowing you’d win!”
“And have to do fuck all in the process,” I can’t help but add, because Beau had fully checked out of the game by our second loop around the board.
“You can shut your face, you were pathetic.” Beau scowls.
“I never said I was any good,” I retort. “In fact, I told JP that I was crap at it right off the bat.”
“A man who doesn’t lie…” Bailey says in a tone that’s almost contemplative. “I might be in love.”
Someone sniggers, but I’m too busy focusing on the fact that Bailey was obviously talking about me—and how much that’s weirded me out—to notice who. Don’t get me wrong, Bailey is beautiful—naturally tanned skin, dark hair, deep brown eyes. She’s sure of herself, too, which is never a negative thing, because she means what she says. But I like my women with a little more… mystery? Christ, what a stupid thing to say. The point is, I don’t have a problem with Bailey. She’s just not my type.
“And on that note…” Gemma says with wide eyes, and stands from her place, “I’m going to bed.”
I check the time and it is getting quite late, but I’m not overly tired.
Now that Brian and Shirley have gone, we’ve all managed to get our own rooms, sort of. Brin and Sheridan are still going to share the double they were in last night, and Gemma is taking the other by herself. Beau and JP, Nash and Stavros, and Bailey and Emma are sharing the twin rooms, and I’m having the last one to myself. Even though the boys could have slept in their room last night, we all ended up passing out on the sectional after one too many whiskies. Our alarm clock had been Brian’s booming laugh.
“I think I’m gonna go, too,” Emma says around a yawn.
Sheridan mutters something to Brinsley, who nods, and then she’s disappearing down the hall. She reappears less than a minute later with Hector’s lead, and at her commanding whistle—which I find strangely, but immensely attractive—the pup leaps out of Nash’s lap and runs for the door.
“Alright,” Brin asks in what I imagine will be her ‘teacher’ voice, now standing behind the sofa, “which of you males is volunteering to chaperone Shez on her walk?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to offer myself up, but I know if I do, I’ll get another verbal lashing from Beau, and maybe Nash, too.
Nash hauls himself to his feet. “I’ll go. I think Beau has had one too many beers. Again.”
“Maybe. But I’m still gonna wait up until you’re both back.”
That’s how I end up in the living room with only Beau and Brin, because both of them refused to go to bed until their siblings were home safe. I have to admit, I feel a little pang in my chest at the notion, because I’ve never had anyone look out for me that way. Simply because I don’t have anyone.
Once again, a painful loneliness creeps in, even though I’m surrounded by people on all sides. I guess the truth is, I want to find my person, because this life of lonesome is becoming, simply put, fucking miserable.
The three of us don’t speak while we watch a late-night rerun of Peep Show episodes, and I’ll admit I find the whole thing unnerving. It brings me the realisation that Beau still hasn’t apologised about his comments regarding my ‘baggage’ a day and a half later. Part of me thinks he never will. That same part of me recognises that he’s probably forgotten all about it given the excitement of the past thirty-six hours. I suppose we haven’t been alone together since we got here, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t had the opportunity to pull me aside for thirty seconds just to say “I’m sorry”.
The reminder of the whole sorry affair has ignited a bad mood in me, and I suddenly don’t want to be in the same room with him if he’s going to be so self-centred. I get it—he’s protective of his sisters, especially the one that’s socially awkward most of the time—but he really didn’t have to insult me in the process.
I don’t know why I’m getting so precious about it. I barely know the girl—I just think she’s pretty. And kinda cool. No, not just cool—damn awesome. But I don’t know her. So, I really need to forget about it. But I also want Beau to apologise because apparently, I am also a stubborn prick. Maybe I’ll give him the silent treatment until he works it out.
Right. Because that’s super mature of me.
Fuck sake. I need to go to bed.
I’m about to excuse myself and do just that when something cracks, then thuds in the cabin somewhere. The noise is matched with a yelp and followed by a loud, “Ow!”
Beau is on high alert, “What was that?” He asks as he storms towards the source of the noise.
Brinsley and I follow after him, and as we reach the hallway, the door to the other double room bursts open with a frustrated looking Gemma emerging.
“What happened, Gem?” Brin asks with a concerned frown.
“The fucking bed broke. That’s what.”
“Aye?” Beau cocks his head.
“The bed broke?” Brin repeats.
“Yeah, it broke.”
Beau blinks at her. “How?”
Gemma blows out a breath and points inside, “You wanna go and have a look?”
I really do. I didn’t realise how nosey I am until right now, but I guess that’s the territory that comes with being raised in a group home. Everyone else’s business gets kinda fascinating.
Sure enough, inside the double room, the bed has completely caved in the centre, and one of the legs has snapped.
“What the fuck?” Beau splutters. “What you been doing in here? Some kind of vigorous masturbation?”
I fight the roll of my eyes, but Brinsley does me a solid by whacking him on the arm.
“Need I remind you that it was your parents who slept in here last night?” Gemma says pointedly.
Beau recoils then shudders. “An image I didn’t need, thank you Gemma.”
“Serves yourself right for saying dumb shit.”
“You can’t sleep in here,” I say, before the conversation can get any more idiotic.
“Of course she can’t,” Brin agrees.
“I’ll call the office.” Beau sighs and wanders back into the living room.
“You can sleep in the room I’ve got,” I offer with a polite smile.
“Oh, I don’t want to impose…”
“It’s fine, I’ll sleep on the sofa.” I shrug. I’ve slept in worse places.
Gemma looks like she wants to say something else but chooses better of it. It seems silly discussing it further, so I start moving my stuff out of the room I was going to be in and swap it with Gemma’s in the double. I might not be able to sleep in there, but my shit can live there.
Nash and Sheridan return with Hector midway through our luggage swap. The dog—with no desire to see the unnecessary chaos through to the end—bolts to the girls’ bedroom to hide.
“What’s going on?” Nash asks, half-turned towards his room.
“The double bed in the other room has collapsed. Gemma is having the twin room and I’m gonna sleep on the sofa until it’s fixed,” I explainwhile hauling the last of my luggage across the hall.
Nash and Sheridan share a look. “Well, you’re a better man than I am.” I’d like to say I already knew that. He claps me on the shoulder and then disappears into his shared room with Stavros.
When I chance a look at Sheridan, she’s already watching me with what I can only describe as a wistful expression. It makes me want to shiver.
Her lips lift in the smallest, gentlest of smiles, before she says ever so softly, “Good night, Myles.”
“Night, Shez.” I murmur back.
She turns away, and I can’t tear my gaze away from her until she’s out of sight. I don’t know what it is about her that has me so intoxicated, but I do find the view to be ten times better when she’s in the room. A crazy thought to have about someone I hardly know.
I dump the rest of my belongings in the now useless bedroom and close the door on it. Beau told us while we were swapping all our things over that someone should be coming to the cabin tomorrow while we’re out, so hopefully I’ll only be sleeping on the sofa one more night.
With the duvet off the unused twin bed, I settle onto the couch in the front room and stare up at the ceiling, feeling somewhat untethered. I’m not drunk like I was last night, so I don’t have the luxury of just passing out. The room is loud in the silence. I can hear crickets outside; the whirring of the air-conditioning; the hum of the fridge behind me. And Beau and JP gossiping in the room close by.
There’s something innately lonely about sleeping by yourself in a cabin with nine other people. I don’t know how, but something has got to change.