Chapter 10 Then
Then
Light pours through the crack left in the heavy curtains, dust motes dancing in the sunshine.
This house seems to gather dust like treasure, memories of birthdays and Christmases past held in little specks that gather in corners.
The ghosts of old photos remain in pale rectangles on the walls, frames removed when the seemingly permanent decor evidently changed.
James is stirring beside me. He has this magic ability to sleep almost indefinitely, whereas my body wakes like clockwork at the crack of dawn no matter what time I go to bed.
No matter where I am. It’s as if I’m trained to be on high alert, to not allow myself to sleep while others are prowling awake.
James’s lashes ruffle against each other as his face comes to life, eyelids slowly drawing apart. The youthful smile that breaks across his face when he sees I’m awake is instant.
“Morning, gorgeous,” he says, and kisses me.
I’ve always sort of hated this, the vulnerability of being kissed first thing, teeth unbrushed, face unwashed.
It’s always made me feel exposed, like the naked flesh of a tortoise without its shell.
But it’s nice to imagine that James’s kiss is my shell, my home.
“Hey,” I say.
“Sleep well?”
I nod, pushing my face into his neck. Our limbs are entangled like pretzels. He feels warm and smells good. Yesterday’s aftershave still sits on his skin. It smells so familiar, comforting. With my face entombed in his body, the forgotten-bedroom-smell surrounding us fades.
We’re in the room he grew up in, tucked away in his parents’ house in Surrey.
It’s clear that they have never used this room for anything else, never will use this room for anything else, despite James’s no longer needing it.
The room is all dark wood and faded carpet, in the same vein as the rest of the house.
There’s something about old-money folk and slightly shabby homes. I don’t quite get it.
In case it isn’t already immediately obvious, it’s worth clarifying that my plan to not get attached to the man whose body is currently warming mine has failed spectacularly.
And worse, it’s failed publicly, too. There’s been a zeal and excitement in James over the past few months that I’ve not previously seen.
A zeal that’s made him dogged about pursuing things between us, full steam behind the engine of his desire.
I suppose I should be flattered that I’ve had such an effect on him, but suddenly, life was “too short” for a lot of things.
When it came to things like not making me his girlfriend, I was delighted.
But with things like “keeping us a secret,” I found my anxiety spiking.
My track record with relationships meant keeping things quiet suited me incredibly well.
Should things end poorly, better for there to be no audience to swivel accusing fingers my way.
But if there was one thing the Thomas brothers shared, it was their ability to sweet-talk their way into anything, and so it was that I found myself ducking out of the office early on a Thursday afternoon while James prepped an all-staffer to the company explaining the new relationship to his staff.
With it, he announced Will’s new lead responsibility on internal promotions, to dissuade anyone from believing James was metering out preferential treatment influenced by our new relationship.
I’m still not sure if James was naive to his brother’s affairs or simply just believed the company to be.
When it comes to Will, I remain stuck with the feeling that I shouldn’t ask too many questions.
I know how sensitive sibling relationships can be.
In any case, within a matter of weeks, Will admitted he wanted to wash his hands of the business, as James had predicted he would, and the responsibility moved back to James.
No one seemed prepared to comment on this, although distinctly cooled temperatures toward me following the initial relationship announcement only seemed to cool further when Will went.
I’m sure they thought I was attempting to sleep my way to the top, although there was nowhere to go in my role; I had no aspirations to trade James’s affections for inflated titles.
No doubt I’d have been sorely disappointed if I had tried to leverage sex for any kind of bonus.
After all, James wore his nobility front and center like a second tiepin.
What was bizarre, however, was the continued change in Will before his departure.
James had sat the three of us down in his office after hours one day, the shutters drawn.
James had just been returning to the seat behind his desk, Will looking churlish in his navy suit and smelling faintly of whisky beside me, when Will blurted out,
“So you’re fucking her?”
James stopped halfway into his seat in a comical freeze.
It only lasted a split second, James sitting down and leaning forward on his forearms, but Will’s arrow had evidently landed true, a smirk playing on the older brother’s lips.
Will cast an unreadable look at me with those blue eyes of his, then looked back at his brother, smirk widening into a smile.
Sometimes, I worried that Will saw me more than I gave him credit for.
“I wouldn’t put it like that,” James began, irritation hitching his broad shoulders up to his ears.
He shook them out. “Look, I set this meeting because yes, the nature of the relationship between myself and Natalie has changed, and I wanted the three of us to…discuss how to best navigate that within the business.”
Will licked his teeth, looked at me again.
His lips were pressed together now, mouth shut, although there was something distinctly lupine about his lingering smile.
We fell into an uncomfortable silence as he studied me, eyes sketching my face as if he could see behind the mask, see into the damage I hid.
“Will?” James.
Attention turned back to his brother, Will simply said, “I don’t care who you shag, James. Let’s not make a whole song and dance out of this. Deal with it how you want.”
With that, he’d stood up and sauntered out of the office, not bothering to look behind him.
This was now several months ago. And this last piece, the parent piece, I’ve avoided for as long as I could manage.
Almost a year since James and I shared our first kiss.
The avoidance was bringing James to a breaking point, and seeing as the rest of the world knows about us anyway, I’ve relented.
With some logic behind it, of course. Meeting the family only increases my motivation to be good, and having been good for so long, if James wants to integrate me into his life, I should let him.
I just have to hope to god that his family doesn’t want to go digging into my past. Both they and James can never know what I’ve done.
James picks up his phone from the bedside table and sets it back down. “We should try to get some breakfast in us before we hit the road.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Although what are the odds your mother is going to start talking again about how cute ‘caramel’ babies are over our toast?”
He chuckles. “Sorry, I know she’s a bit old-school.”
“It’s fine. After what you’ve told me about her, I was sort of fearing the worst. But I can tell she’s been making an effort with me. Maybe she’ll even hit me with the ‘Gosh, don’t you look young?’ again. I like that one.”
James rolls onto his side, slips an arm across my belly. “Yeah, she’s a bit of a charmer. My friends at school didn’t get it, either, when they met her. Kept telling me how nice she was. But I think she genuinely likes you.”
It seems true. At least, I haven’t felt either parent is keen to chase me off their grounds with a shotgun.
It’s a surprisingly low bar, and the Thomases have cleared it easily, which is its own relief.
And I know should his parents not like me, should they take against my lack of family, my unimpressive career trajectory, my preferred small talk—not to mention my Blackness—this would all soon come to an end.
James is just that kind of guy: family is important, I can tell.
Being liked—useful.
James’s fingers circle my navel, his eyes drifting across the sight of his knuckles ruffling the duvet.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
A small smile. “Nothing. Just feeling grateful. Thinking about the future, I guess,” he says, voice still foggy with sleep.
I curl my body farther into his. I know I must look as giddy as I feel. “Yeah?” It makes my heart hum with happiness when we talk about the future. Not that any promises have been made. But as his hand comes to rest on my stomach, I can’t help but feel reassured that our dreams might be aligned.
“My mother was asking again about meeting yours, you know,” James announces, moving the conversation along before I can dig any deeper. “And your sister.”
I try not to let my body tense in his arms. “You know that’s not possible, James. I haven’t seen my mother in person in years. And Claire really doesn’t want to be brought anywhere near my romantic relationships, not after that’s gone so badly in the past.”
“I know, I know. To be honest, I think my mother would be secretly relieved to hear they won’t meet.
Last time she got close to an ex’s family, the mom hung around like a bad smell even years after things ended.
We practically had to get a restraining order.
” He laughs, shifts his body weight. “You never have to do anything you don’t want to do.
I’m sorry I mentioned it.” He plants a kiss on my forehead. “I love you.”
I’m tempted to ask more about the ex’s mom, but I remember the pact we made to keep the past where it belongs and force the feeling away.