Chapter 15 #2
“I’m still friendly with some of the previous casts and crew I’ve worked with. But it’s hard to make friends in London when
you work the hours I do.”
“And hard to find a boyfriend.” She lifted the glass to her lips and finished the last few droplets of red. “Have you tried
those dating websites? Cathy’s son found his girlfriend on one, and they are getting married next week.”
“That’s fabulous news for Cathy’s son. But, Mum, seriously, when I meet someone I will tell you.”
She scoffed and rubbed her hand over her eyes. “Right, well, I won’t hold my breath. I’m heading to bed. You staying down
here?”
“Yeah, I’ll do the washing up.”
“You’re a good boy, sausage.” She ran her hand through his hair, then pressed a kiss to his forehead. He watched as she wrapped
her bathrobe tighter around her body, then shuffled out of the kitchen and upstairs to her bedroom.
Jonah stared at the dirty dishes stacked by the edge of the sink, then added the empty wineglasses to the pile and got to
cleaning them. The window in the kitchen looked out over the garden, and the moon shone down over the sea, creating a silver
mirror from the water, a sight he’d missed since being in London. He pretended he was eighteen again, readying himself to
leave his home, imagining all the wonderful things awaiting him in the capital. He had dreamed of being in the West End, something
he’d achieved; he even dreamed of an Olivier, and holy shit, he’d actually achieved that too. Where else could he go from
there? He’d reached the top level. He could win more awards, sure, but would he be happy? Were awards enough?
His phone vibrated on the kitchen table, and he glanced over his shoulder at it before grabbing a tea towel to dry his hands.
He squinted at the screen to see two messages come through together—the signal on the coast of St. Ives leaving something to be desired—and felt his stomach drop as he read the names.
The first, Dexter; the second, Edward. He ignored Edward and went straight for the message from Dexter.
The Penis Destroyer: Sorry I’ve been MIA. Been super ill :( I’m okay now, can we meet for a drink? Dex x
Jonah scowled at the mention of illness and half wondered if Dexter should have told him earlier, given they made out. But
he’d been fine, so he reluctantly let it slide, mostly because Dexter had put a kiss at the end of the message.
Jonah: Sorry you’ve been sick. I’m in Cornwall till Tuesday but can meet when I get back? x
He deleted, then replaced the kiss eight times before settling on sending it.
The Penis Destroyer: Cornwall? Impromptu holiday? I’m free Thursday, can meet after the show or get a coffee in the morning if that works with
you? Also, I need to do some social media damage control after the whole tripping thing . . . any ideas before Colbie kills
me? x
Jonah: Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to trip me in the first place, then you wouldn’t be needing to maintain your squeaky clean image? x
The Penis Destroyer: Avoiding holiday and drink question? Fine, I guess I deserve that. Groveling at your feet. x
Jonah: I’m visiting my parents. Thursday morning is good. Don’t grovel, it doesn’t suit you. x
The Penis Destroyer: Duly noted. Though, I’ve been thinking about getting on my knees for you since that kiss x
Jonah covered his face with his hand and slipped his phone into his pocket.
He couldn’t have this type of conversation in his parents’ kitchen.
He switched off the lights and headed upstairs, where he lingered outside of the room his dad slept in, listening for the soft sounds of his snores, smiling knowing he was asleep and safe.
His own bedroom was farther down the hall, the last door on the left, and he opened it to see the bag he had brought with him and dumped on the bed unpacked neatly on the mattress, courtesy of his mum.
Unlike some people who spoke about their childhood rooms remaining the same since they left home, Jonah’s parents completely overhauled his room and turned it into a cozy guest room.
Yellow curtains hung from the rail at the window, and a plush beige carpet stretched across the floorboards, which hosted a king-size bed.
It was a far cry from the navy-blue-walled and emerald-green-carpeted room Jonah once called his own.
The Penis Destroyer: Sorry, was that a step too far?
Jonah grinned at the message. He pictured Dexter sitting in his home on Lawford Road, phone in hand, eagerly awaiting Jonah’s
response.
Jonah: Just recovering from the shock of you thinking about me in a way that doesn’t end with me covered in vomit or with your foot
in my crotch x
The Penis Destroyer: FYI, I genuinely didn’t mean to do that.
Jonah: Sure Jan gif.
The Penis Destroyer: I don’t know what that means. x
Jonah: Urgh, stop messaging me and brush yourself up on memes before we can no longer be friends.
The Penis Destroyer: Is that what we are now? Friends? x
Jonah: Depends. I’m still mad at you. x
The Penis Destroyer: Understandable. I’m sorry, again. Seriously. x
Jonah smiled at the message. Truth be told, he still didn’t fully trust him; he could forgive the string of unfortunate incidents
culminating in the vomiting, but he couldn’t yet forget the tripping attempt at the Oliviers. He didn’t think he ever would.
But he could allow himself to flirt, kiss, maybe more; Dexter was attractive, he could never deny that, and now that he’d
experienced a more honest and vulnerable side of him he could see him for more than the massive dickhead he masqueraded as.
Jonah put the phone down on his bedside table and ignored the unread message from Edward while also choosing not to reply
to Dexter. He could sweat for a response; it was Jonah’s turn to hold the cards.