Chapter 12 Kit
KIT
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
I’m going to need someone to pinch me hard, because this can’t be real.
Fuck, did last night really happen? It must have been a dream, right? I’ve already lived my fairytale. I went from rags to riches at the behest of a benevolent stepfather. Prince Charming can’t be on the cards for me, too. No one’s that lucky, at least not without some kind of catch.
Except, where is said prince now? I reach across the bed and shiver when I find the space next to me cold. Why didn’t Damian wake me? My mind runs at a thousand miles per minute, self-doubt needling me, poking holes in everything that happened last night.
Okay, so Damian claims he’s not-so-straight anymore, but what does that even mean? Is he just questioning? Curious? Did he use me as a way to figure out if he could be into guys?
No, Damian wouldn’t do that, not to me. Would he?
Oh god, what if he did? What if I was just a safe way to experiment? The demon on my shoulder agrees. “Where is he now?” it asks. “You sent him running again.”
My mouth runs dry, my satiated happiness from last night banished by the fear rising within me. Then, just as I really start to panic, I hear a crash from Damian’s en suite, followed by a muffled, “crap.”
My heart makes a valiant attempt to escape from my chest, pounding against my ribcage as I mentally prepare myself to come face to face with Damian and whatever regret he has in the cold light of day.
Shit, why didn’t I run while I had the chance? At least then I could have basked in my blissful ignorance for a while longer instead of having my dreams ripped apart before my morning coffee.
I hold my breath, watching as the bathroom door opens, and Damian tumbles from the room in a cloud of steam and woodsy aftershave.
A stark white towel hangs precariously from his narrow hips, and his rock-hard abs ripple with every uncoordinated movement.
His hair is hanging in drenched strands around his face, blocking my view of him well enough that I’m still unsure whether I’m about to get my heart broken or not.
Bloody hell, I can’t stand this anymore.
“Um… Hey?” My voice shakes. Though when Damian turns to me, I feel stupid for ever being worried.
He flicks his head back to shake his hair out of his eyes, and then graces me with the biggest, brightest smile I’ve ever seen.
It pierces through the darkness of my trepidation and chases away every thought that dared to doubt him.
Damian’s by my side in just two steps. “Morning, my little pillow princess,” he hums, leaning down to press an exaggerated kiss against my cheek.
I bark out a surprised laugh. “Yeah, that doesn’t mean what you think it does.”
Damian pulls back with the most adorably confused expression on his face. “It doesn’t? Well, what does it mean then?” I’d answer him, except Damian chooses this exact moment to whip the towel from his waist and use it to wrestle his dripping hair into submission.
Which is how my stepbrother and I end up late for breakfast…
It’s weird how normal everything is, I consider as Damian starts on his third bowl of cereal.
“So, what are you doing today?” he mumbles through a plume of sugary crumbs.
“I’m meeting Jack and Jane for lunch.” I nibble on my cream cheese bagel with at least some modicum of dignity.
“Are they coming here, or are you going to one of your old haunts?”
Old haunts meaning the dilapidated borough I grew up in. It’s not the best neighbourhood around by any means, and probably not somewhere you’d feel safe walking at night. But it was my first home, and as long as I’m with the twins, I know nothing bad will happen to me.
“I’m going to them, so we’ll probably end up in some café that predates hygiene ratings.”
“Pie and mash?”
I snort. “Not if I can help it.”
“Oh, come off it. I know you secretly love that green sauce they splash over everything.”
I roll my eyes exasperatedly. “How you’ve spent your whole life in London and never tried liquor is beyond me. I’m pretty sure that’s a banishable offence.”
“It’s green, Kit. Why the fuck would I pour slime on my mashed potato?”
“It’s literally parsley sauce.”
“I still maintain gravy works better.”
I gasp dramatically. “You take that back.”
“Nope. And I thought you were above pie and mash.”
“It’s a matter of principle, Damian. Gravy, honestly. Get the fuck out of here.”
“Kit, language.” I nearly fall off my stool at the deep voice behind me. Damn, that man can move like a ghost.
“Sorry, Dad,” Damian says while shovelling another heaped spoonful of kids’ cereal into his mouth. “Kit’s back on his liquor high horse.”
“Not again.” Lucien shudders, grabbing a perfectly chilled bottle of mineral water from the fridge. “I’d rather have gravy.”
Damian blurts out a laugh.
“You’re both terrible Londoners,” I sulk.
“Like you’re much better,” Damian retorts.
I scowl into my black coffee, a blend that Lucien had imported especially from Italy when I couldn’t find one I liked here.
Okay, so maybe I’m a little out of touch with my roots, but that’s an easy fix. This afternoon, I’m going to take the opportunity to reacquaint myself with my city. I’ll take the overground to see the twins instead of driving.
And then change to the underground.
Switch in Bethnal.
And then catch a bus or two…
Come to think of it, Jack and Jane are pretty hard to reach on public transport. Maybe I’ll just call an Uber. Shit, what’s happened to me?
Fortunately, Lucien quickly interrupts my identity crisis.
“Actually, I’m glad I caught the pair of you before I leave for padel.
Don’t forget we have the gala for London West Hospice next Friday.
A car’s picking us up at seven. Kit, I’ve taken the liberty of adding it to your calendar,” he says, pulling my phone from his pocket and handing it to me.
“You left this in the den. I’m surprised you could bear to be parted with it for so long. ”
Wow. I’ve been so distracted this morning that I hadn’t even noticed it was gone. Luckily, all I’ve missed are a couple of texts from Jack, and wouldn’t you know, it looks like there’s a pie in my immediate future after all. At least the tea will be good. Nothing beats proper caff tea.
“Did you want a lift today?” Damian offers. “Parking’s a nightmare around Jack’s, isn’t it?”
“Where are you off to?” Lucien asks, filling a sports bag with more bottles of fancy water and several bananas. Does padel really require that much energy?
“I’m meeting Jack and Jane for lunch.”
“You’re going to them, I take it?” I nod in reply.
“Well… be careful,” Lucien says slowly. “Why don’t you get Damian to pick you up after as well? I’m not thrilled about you hanging around that area on your own.”
“I can do that,” Damian agrees, flashing his dimples in my direction.
I sigh, knowing that he’s going to be my chauffeur now, no matter how much I argue. “You might as well join us for lunch then.”
“Hell yes!”
“But no gravy,” I say, pointing my finger at him.
“No deal,” he laughs, grabbing my hand and yanking me off my barstool so enthusiastically that I crash straight into his chest.
And if I happen to stay there recovering from my perilous fall for longer than necessary, well, who would blame me?
“So, why is Damian here again?” Jane asks, a sly smile on her face as she watches Damian edge through the crowded café to the bathroom.
Jack turns his head too, and their matching blue eyes track my stepbrother like prey.
They’re obviously not identical twins, no matter how many people ask them if that’s the case.
Though they do have the same sharp, straight nose, pouted lips, and thick brown hair.
Jack’s is hidden under a black cap today, whereas Jane has slicked hers into a high pony.
“It was just easier,” I shrug. “He was going to pick me up later, so it made sense for him to join us. Besides,” I say, looking at Damian’s demolished plate in disgust, “he loves gravy.”
“Right, right,” Jane nods solemnly. “I smell bullshit.”
“It’s true!”
“Mate, it feels like we’re intruding on a fucking date,” Jack chimes in. “You actually giggled earlier. You giggled! You can’t do that shit, you’ll ruin my reputation.”
“What reputation?” Jane asks vindictively. “Everyone here’s known you long enough to remember that time you accidentally pickpocketed a policeman.” What’s worse is that the bloke was in uniform at the time. Jack’s worked on his art considerably since then…
“And,” my friend continues, ignoring Jane’s totally valid point, “Damian’s barely said a word all afternoon because he’s been too busy staring at your ugly mug. He spilt his fucking tea because you smiled at him, for crying out loud.”
“Hey, watch who you’re calling ugly.”
“What’re you gonna do? Tell your bodyguard on me?”
I sniff haughtily. “I just might.”
“Thought so. And you know what’ll happen? Damian will knock my fucking block off because you, my friend, have shagged your brother.”
I yelp, slapping my hand over Jack’s big mouth. “Oh my god, what the fuck? Shut up!”
“Bloody hell, you totally have, haven’t you?” Jane claps gleefully.
“No,” I hiss. It’s not really a lie. My ass is still technically untouched. “And he’s my stepbrother. Quite an important distinction.”
Jack licks my palm, his eyes twinkling when I pull back my hand in horror. “I wish I’d put a bet on this happening. You’ve been mooning over him for years. Every wanker and his dog knows it.”
“Seriously, guys, shut up. Even if it were true, which it’s not, you can’t just out someone in the middle of a fucking café!” And the concern is real considering Damian’s only been a practising member of the LGBTQIA+ community for less than twenty-four hours…
“Fine, fine, we get it. Mum’s the word,” Jane relents, picking at her chipped pink nail polish. “Speaking of which, your mum is gonna blow a fuse when she finds out. Please record her reaction for me.”
“There will be nothing to record. Besides, my mum is too busy making sure Lucien isn’t trading her in for a younger model to care about anything I’m doing… Which is nothing.”
“Why would Lucien cheat on your mum?” Jack asks, genuinely confused. “She’s fit as fuck.”
“Ew, gross.” I jump as the chair next to me shrieks across the linoleum. What is it with the Hansel men and their ability to appear out of thin air like fucking ghouls? “That’s my stepmum you’re talking about.”
“Sorry, mate,” Jack says. “It’s just so easy to forget who’s related to who nowadays.”
Luckily for me, the subtle dig goes right over Damian’s head. Not so luckily for Jack, that doesn’t stop Jane from kicking him under the table, hard by the sound of it.
“Ow!”
“Anyway,” I interrupt, loud enough to cover my friend’s whinging. “We’d best be off home. Right, Damian?”
“Oh, yeah. Actually, do you mind if we stop off at the tailors on the way back? I want to get a new tie for the gala. Pretty sure I spilt soy sauce down mine at New Year’s.”
“Sure, sounds good,” I say, slipping Jack the money for our lunch before he decides to cause any more chaos. And it almost works, until…
“Kit, you should get a new tie too,” Damian gasps excitedly. “Then we could match!”
Jack snorts into his tea so hard that the lukewarm liquid spurts right across the table. “Argh, it’s up my nose!” he splutters, coughing into his elbow as his sister diligently slaps his back.
“Okay, good to see you, Jane. Can’t say the same about you, Jack. Let’s do this again next decade,” I call over my shoulder as I steer a bemused Damian out of the café.
“Those guys are weird, I see why you like them,” he says, opening the door for me. And damn if my heart doesn’t swoon.
I hope Jack hasn’t noticed.
Seriously… what the bloody hell has happened to me?