CHAPTER 30
MYLES
“What…the fuck is happening right now?”
Brinsley’s question makes my head snap up after scrolling on my phone in the back of her car. She picked Sheridan and I up from the train station to take us home after our weekend in London.
I lean sideways to get a good view out the front windscreen.
Beau’s Range Rover sits in a guest space at the back of the car park, the man himself leaning against the driver’s side with his arms folded, and Nash standing right next to him.
Oh, fuck.
Sheridan laughs—a bubbling, hysterical sound that’s completely at odds with the feeling in my gut.
This isn’t going to end well.
As soon as Brin has her car pulled up, I slide out the back and head towards the Bennett brothers, because there’s no getting out of it now. D-Day has arrived.
“Care to explain what’s going on, Wilson?” Beau demands, shoving off his precious car.
“Sure. I’m returning home from a nice weekend away.”
“With my sister?”
“Beau.” Sheridan’s voice brokers no argument.
“I told you to stay away from her.” He’s stalking towards me now, shoulders rigid with wound up energy.
“Excuse me,” Sheridan, all five foot two of her, squares up to the oldest sibling, “you are in absolutely no position to dictate who I spend my time with.”
“You’re not just ‘spending time’,” Beau air-quotes around the words, “with him, though. Are you?”
“So? It’s none of your damn business!”
“It is my damn business when you’re so—”
“Finish that sentence, Beau,” I warn.
“You’re behaving like a bloody child,” Brinsley adds, scowling at her brothers.
“I can’t believe this. My sister.”
I kiss my teeth. “Pipe down, Ross Geller.”
“I’m my own fucking person, Beau. You do not get a say in my personal relationships.”
“He could’ve picked anyone, Shez,” Nash says, quietly seething. “Anyone. And he had to pick you.”
“So what if he picked me?!”
“Never mind the fact that I had to find out about your fucking relationship through a picture from the God damn Toonieswebsite.” Beau scoffs. “I didn’t even know you were going! I just followed along because I wanted to know if you won.”
“How the hell could you expect me to tell you about my relationship when I knew you’d react exactly like this? Like a fucking arsehole,” Sheridan seethes.
Beau barks, “He doesn’t deserve you, Sheridan! No one does!”
I ignore that pang in my chest that feels let down. I already know that’s what he thinks about me, but to hear it out loud is still gutting. This is supposed to be my best friend.
“Myles doesn’t deserve me?” Sheridan looks feral. “Yet you let John Andrews fucking ruin Brinsley and have barely said a word about it to her. He was a goddamn cunt from start to finish, and yet you’re here going off about your own best friend not being good enough for me? You’re a prick, Beau Bennett. Do you expect me to live by myself forever? You want me to die alone?”
“Brinsley isn’t unstable!” Beau argues.
Rage like I haven’t felt in a long time surges in me at Beau’s nasty words, and I feel Sheridan stiffen beside me. I can’t help it, I instinctively move closer to her.
“Hey!” Brinsley yells, marching forward. “Do not talk about her like that.”
“Have you even considered the fact that maybe, just maybe, I really care about Sheridan?” I’m incredulous now, subtly touching Sheridan where I can. “Do you think I’d really want to just fuck about with your sister, even though that’s exactly what you do with their friends?”
“And believe me, none of us wanted to watch you and Bailey ship off together for a quick fuck in the woods, Beau,” Brinsley growls.
“That’s completely different, and you know it is.”
“Yes!” I explode, “It is completely different, because I am not just spending time with Sheridan only for the outcome of getting into her knickers! I love her!”
Before I have a chance to defend myself, a fist makes an uppercut to my nose. The pain is somehow unexpected, the crunch ear-splitting, and I stagger backwards, holding my face.
“Nash!” Brinsley screams.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Sheridan is incandescent, but I can’t see her face because I’m too busy keeping my head tilted back and my eyes squeezed shut.
I can feel the blood pooling in my palm and white noise fills my ears.
I never thought someone else would throw the first punch. It’s always been me—I’ve always been the instigator.
“Are you a fucking idiot?” Brinsley shoves her brother. “He’s a teacher—he can’t go to school like that!”
“I’m sure Mum will give him a free pass,” Beau grumbles.
I feel a dainty hand on my arm and the essence of apples around me.
“You’re damn right she will because I’m gonna tell her who did it.” This side of Brinsley is a little terrifying, but I like it.
“Both of you fuck off,” Sheridan bites. “Go home, seriously—I am so fucking upset with you. I hope you’ve broken your finger, you absolute dick.”
I can think of a few other words to call her brother, but I’m not exactly in the market for another broken body part. ‘Dick’ seems relatively tame.
A gentle hand wraps around my wrist while the other cups my face. “Let me have a look, Myles.”
“You’re not seriously picking him over your own family, are you?” Beau demands.
“Are you dense, Beau Bennett?” Sheridan snaps, her gaze whipping back to her brother’s. “Did you take too many balls to the face and head recently, or have you just suddenly lost your fucking mind?
“This isn’t about choice. It’s never been a choice between you and Myles, because you’re my brother, and believe it or not, we can all exist in each other’s lives without things being so black and white. He can be your friend while also being my boyfriend. That is a thing that can happen.
“And don’t even think about using my mental health problems as a reasonable excuse to behave the way you are. We’ve had our conversations and neither of us have run away. And regardless of that, it is still not up to you whether that has to be an issue or not. It’s up to us.” She gestures between us.
Beau stares at us, frowning like he’s still a stroppy teenager. Nash is cradling his hand against his chest, not used to bare-knuckling anything, which hopefully means he’s broken it, too.
“Fine.” Beau shrugs. “Whatever. But I don’t like it or condone it.” I’d roll my eyes if I didn’t think it would hurt. “And you may think it’s not a choice Shez, but I’ll always pick you.”
“I don’t need your permission to date someone, Beau. You’re not Dad, or Mum. In fact, you’ve behaved more like a child the past few months than when we were actual kids. We’re adults. You need to grow up.”
He scowls and storms to his car without another word, Nash hot on his heels.
My head starts throbbing a painful rhythm and I squeeze my eyes shut.
“I think we should take Myles to the hospital,” Brin mutters.
Sheridan sighs. “Agreed. Come on, handsome.”
“So much for an early night, aye?” I joke in a pathetic attempt to lighten the mood.
Sheridan helps me back into Brin’s car and then sits behind me in the back seat. Beau and Nash have already peeled out of the car park so it’s thankfully not too embarrassing.
At the hospital, the AE nurse looks at me like I’m some kind of thug. It’s not the first time someone’s looked at me that way, but it’s been a while since I’ve felt so…common.
“How did the injury occur?” She asks sceptically.
I clear my throat, using the feeling of Sheridan’s hand in mine to ground myself. “I was punched. It was just a misunderstanding.”
“Do we need to involve the police?”
“Absolutely not. Like I said—it’s a misunderstanding,” I insist. The thought of Nash spending overnight in a shitty local police station cell is sobering enough.
“My brother is an idiot. That’s all you need to know,” Sheridan adds, and Brin snorts behind us.
The nurse’s gaze flicks between us, then drops to our joined hands. “I see.”
Brin leans forward conspiratorially, “He’s our brother’s best friend.”
Something passes across the nurse’s face, and I know in that instant that underneath her stoic exterior, she loves the drama. I’ll be hot gossip at the nurse’s station when we sit down.
* * *
“What happened to your face?” has been the question of the day, and it’s only eleven o’clock.
I’ve been telling people I walked into a door, which somehow feels more shameful than the truth—that I was punched in the face by my girlfriend’s brother. My nose is swollen black and blue, and I’m on so much medication I’m not entirely sure it’s sensible for me to even be at work. But I can’t afford to miss a day so here we are.
Some teachers have given me a wide berth, because I apparently seem to look prone to fighting, and others have outright sneered at me. Is this seriously the price I have to pay for falling in love with my best friend’s sister?
Worth it.
Shirley slides into the seat opposite me and gives me a look that is both sympathetic and questioning. “What happened, Myles?”
“Walked into a door,” I mutter.
“Uh-huh,” Shirley nods, thoughtful, “and was that before or after my son hit you?”
I meet her gaze, alarmed. “What… Which one told you?”
Shirley laughs, a lovely sound. “The one who tells me everything.”
Brin appears with a grin. “Hi. I’m the one who tells her everything.”
I try—and fail—not to sigh. “Are you mad?”
“At you? God no.” The Bennett matron shakes her head. “With my sons? Absolutely. Brian is appalled. Christmas is ruined and I was looking forward to it this year. I had big plans for my turkey, but obviously one of the boys just had to go swinging his fists and fucked it all up.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, feeling somewhat scorned even though Shirley has said she isn’t angry with me.
“What are you apologising for? You didn’t hit yourself, did you?” Shirley scoffs. “Besides, Nash and Beau are clearly dumb idiots if they can’t see how good you are for Sheridan. I should be thanking you, if anything, for making my baby girl so happy.”
“She deserves to be happy. I want to make her happy.”
Brin rubs my arm. “You do, Myles. Trust me.”
“I wish I knew sooner,” Shirley says wistfully.
“That’s my fault,” I admit. “I was worried about Beau’s reaction, and… Well, he proved me right.”
“That boy.” Shirley shakes her head. “You’d think he’d be delighted. He knows you’re a good lad. I think he’s reluctant to share—he never was very good at it.”
Brin pulls an incredulous face. “You don’t say.”
My phone lights up on the table with a text from Sheridan:
Birdie
How are you feeling? Xxx
Cooing noises ensue around the table, and suddenly Shirley is standing behind me, her hands on my shoulders.
“Take a picture of us, Brin, and send it to her.”
Before I can protest, Brinsley has her phone up and Shirley is planting a smacking kiss on my cheek. She shows it to us then sends it off.
“She’ll love that.” Shirley beams.
“You should send it to Beau,” I joke.
“Oh my God, great idea.” Brin cackles.
A moment later, I have another text come through.
Birdie
Glad you’re being well looked after… The shiner really gives you a dangerous, rugged sort of look xxx
Me
The Bear has made his return xxx
Birdie
If you shaved your beard would you look like 17 y/o you? Xxx
Me
Probably. I’ll see if I can find some photos later. Miss you xxx
Birdie
Yes please. Miss you too. Call me later xxx
“Have you got any plans for Christmas Day, Myles?” Brin asks me quietly. Shirley is already talking to a faculty member on another table.
“No.” Christmas is the one family event of the Bennetts’ that I refused to go to—and is probably part of the reason it took me so long to meet the girls. Something about it felt sacred and I didn’t want to tarnish that. “No plans.”
“Well then we need to fix that, don’t we?”
* * *
It turns out that Nash and Beau have apparently refused to come over for Christmas if I’m going, and Sheridan and Brinsley refuse to go if I’m not there, even though I’m not family. Clearly, the girls weren’t having it.
Instead, the plan is that Sheridan will host Christmas for Brin and I, Brian and Shirley are having Christmas by themselves, and Beau and Nash are doing whatever they want.
This is all my fault. If it wasn’t for me, the Bennetts would be having their Christmas together the way they should be, and I would be spending it alone like I’m used to.
I argued with the girls over it for hours last night, but they wouldn’t listen. Sheridan insisted she would much rather spend it with me than with people who don’t appreciate the good in their life, and if that didn’t do my damn ego the world of good. I stopped fighting after that.
“What’s wrong with your face?”
I look up from my lesson plan, startled into the present. Sam and Jamie, the unlikely duo, stand in front of my desk with matching expressions of concern. “Of all the ways I’ve been asked that question the past two days, that has to be the worst yet.”
“Oh, we don’t mean your nose, sir,” Jamie says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We know all about that.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you now? Please share, because the rumour going around yesterday was that I’m in an underground fight club.”
“Jesus, sir,” Jamie hisses, throwing a cautionary glance at the classroom door, “keep your voice down. Everyone knows the first rule of Fight Club is you don’t talk about Fight Club.”
Sam shoves him. “Mate, shut up. That’s not it. And we know you didn’t walk into a door, either.”
“We actually just meant that you look a bit miserable, but anyway. There’s a video,” Jamie produces his phone and pulls up an app I don’t recognise.
He taps a few buttons, and then there I am. There we all are—me, Sheridan, Brin, Beau and Nash—in the car park outside my flat, and there Nash goes, clocking me right in the face.
“Oh, fuck,” I say without thinking.
“I know!” Jamie seems more excited than anything, even though a yawning pit of dread has opened up in my stomach. “You’ve gone viral! Like, that’s Beau fucking Bennett. And you! And… Miss Bennett?”
“Jamie,” I say in my most stern teacher voice. “This is really serious.” More serious than worrying about Christmas arrangements. “I could lose my job. Beau’s career could be in the toilet if this isn’t handled properly. And my neighbours are obviously absolute dickheads.”
“Wait, why should you get in trouble?” Jamie frowns. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
This is why I love teenagers. “That may be, but it’s now an even stickier situation than just me dating my friend’s sister and him being upset about it.”
“You’re dating your friend’s sister? Woah, sir, that’s gross.” Jamie’s nose wrinkles.
“It’s Miss Bennett’s twin,” Sam mutters.
“Wait, seriously?” Jamie looks between us. “I take it all back, Miss Bennett is fit as.”
The sigh I let out is deep and long. “I need to rectify this before it goes totally wrong. Can you send me that please?”
“Oh, sure…” Jamie texts me the video, and I tell him to delete my number immediately afterward. “You don’t look too good, sir.”
“I’m about to offer my testicles on a silver platter to Paulson. Put yourself in my shoes.”
“First of all, if I was in your shoes I wouldn’t call them testicles. Bollocks is much better.”
I give the boy an incredulous look.