29. Jay
Chapter twenty-nine
Jay
A lready, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with Katy. On Tuesday, I find myself on her doorstep rather than my own after a day of counselling sessions and working on my car. I’m tired all the way to my bones, and my leg aches from pushing myself to run a little further each time I go to the running track, but I have a night off from work tonight, and all I want to do is be with Katy. Being with her makes the noise in my head just a little quieter, and between Katy and Guy, every day I’m finding myself closer and closer to being able to silence it for myself.
“What are we doing, Jay?”
“I don’t know about you, Princess, but I’m having fun.” I return my mouth to the spot just below her ear, tongue darting out to flick against her earlobe, and she shivers beneath my touch.
“No”—she pulls away—“I mean this . Us.”
“You mean labels.”
“I wish I didn’t, but, yeah. Babe, we—it’s not just us, here.”
“I know,” I sigh. “I love my sister to death, but fuck, just for once, I need her to not be such a cockblock.”
Katy presses a fist to her mouth to suppress a giggle.
“What do you want this to be?” I take both of her hands in mine and sit on the edge of the sofa, pulling her down beside me, facing me. My thumb and forefinger grip her chin as I search her face.
Fuck, I want this to be everything. She is everything. Everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I never knew I wanted, and more besides. I’ve always known I wanted a family—a wife, a house, a dog—maybe even kids, someday. Until recently, the vision in my mind was of a faceless woman beside me. But now, it’s Katy. All I see is Katy.
“This isn’t just sex, is it?” she whispers. There’s something in the depths of those eyes, the way the brown darkens to blend almost seamlessly into her wide pupils, that screams of more. That tells me it’s safe to say the words dancing on the tip of my tongue. That I can say what I’ve wanted to say for a long time.
“It’s never been just sex , Princess. Not with you.” I tip her chin up to meet my lips, and I capture hers in our most tender kiss yet. It’s neither punishing nor bruising like they have been so far. It’s gentle and sweet, explorative. It feels like a first taste of forever.
After some reheated pizza, we make our way back to the living room with a glass of wine for Katy and a beer on the end table for me. I settle at one end of the sofa and pull Katy against me with her back against my chest and our legs tangled together beneath a fluffy off-white blanket.
“Do you remember the day we first met?”
“Ruth’s birthday?” Katy asks. “It wasn’t that long ago, love. I might be a scatty blonde, but I’m not that blonde.” She prods a fingertip into my thigh with a chuckle.
“No, we met before then,” I say. I stretch out my arm, taking Katy’s hand with me. I hold our hands out, marvelling at the size difference as our palms press together.
It’s been three weeks since that memory popped into my mind unbidden, and I’ve barely stopped thinking about it. I don’t even remember much about Katy from that day. We never spoke; I only interacted with Amie and Ruth. But I do remember the intricate pigtail braids that hung halfway down her back, and the pink glitter that spread across her cheekbones from the corners of her eyes.
“We did?”
“We did,” I confirm. “I don’t know when. Maybe fifteen or sixteen years ago? I think Rooey had just met you and Amie.”
“I don’t know—maybe? Do I remember this? I feel like I’m just making up a memory because you told me it happened.” Katy twists her upper body, stretching up to press a kiss to my lips. She’s lit a bunch of candles that fill the room with a warm, flickering glow and a delicious peachy scent, and it mingles with the orange of her perfume. I’ve always been a bigger fan of vegetables than fruit, but Katy is giving me a sweet tooth.
I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pressing her even closer to me. “It’s fine. I’m pretty sure we didn’t even talk, anyway.” I say. “Amie definitely flirted with me but I don’t think we spoke at all. You just smiled at me with your hands full of KitKats and Curly Wurlys.”
“That sounds like me,” she hums. “And Amie. Little hoe.”
“I get the feeling she’d flirt with a potted plant.”
Katy snickers, nuzzling her face into my ribs. “She absolutely would. Extroverted bitch. Did I ever tell you how we became friends?”
I look down to find her blinking up at me with clear, chocolate-brown eyes. I raise an eyebrow for her to continue.
“We were eleven. It was a Thursday, I think—that’s when we usually had cross-country training. I always liked running everywhere as a kid, absolutely lived for sports day in primary school. So, Mum encouraged me to go to the recruitment meet at the start of term. Everyone there was older, except for Amie, and I’d already seen her in a few of my classes that week.” She shuffles in place, sitting up a little and tucking herself under my arm.
“Anyway, they had us do these partner stretches as part of the warm ups, and everyone else already knew each other, so they paired off. We were the only ones left. Amie stalked over to me like she owned the fucking place, grabbed my hand and said come on partner, stretch me out. ”
“Jesus,” I laugh. “Suddenly, everything makes sense.”
“Yeah. We were inseparable after that. She’s my best friend in the whole world.”
“She’s a good friend,” I agree. “I love the friendship you girls have. You’ve been good for Ruth, too.”
“Did she ever tell you how we met her?”
“Nope. I think I was in Afghanistan when that happened.” I definitely was. It was my first deployment—the first time I went overseas to a war, rather than for a brief training mission. It marked a lot of firsts, and my homecoming ticked a few more milestones off the list. The loss of friends, both to war and to time. Seeing my sister as a young, independent woman rather than the little girl she’d been before I’d shipped out. The guilt of all I missed still makes me sick sometimes.
“Her snack got stuck. Not a euphemism.” Katy smirks, and I can’t help but smirk along with her. Her smile—every smile—is infectious. It warms me from the inside. It’s thawed every single ice deposit in my heart, and now it just ignites those little sparks, starting a fire that has a comfortable warmth coiling low in my belly.
“Say less, please. And more.” A small chuff falls from my lips as I try to hold in a laugh. My sister has always been very serious about snacks.
“It was November, I think, and we’d all just started sixth form. Me and Amie walked into the common room one way to find her almost crying at the vending machine. She thought she flunked a test—like Ruth has ever flunked anything in her life.” Katy looks up at me with a tiny chuckle before continuing. “Amie had mad skills with that stupid machine though, always managed to get stuff unstuck, so she rescued the Doritos for Roo and a couple of bonus snacks that we all shared, and we just sat and chatted for a bit. And then Roo came shopping with us that weekend, and the rest is history.”
“She used to be a quiet kid, you know?” I say. I use my thumb and forefinger to tilt Katy’s face to mine. I want to study her face, to lock my eyes with hers. To let my eyes tell her all the things I can’t bring myself to say out loud. “She hated being the good girl, but she loved school and she was good at learning. She wasn’t exactly shy, but she wasn’t Miss Popular either.”
“And look at her now,” Katy muses. “She’s definitely become more extroverted as we’ve got older. I think I’m more introverted the older I get, but Roo is definitely bolder now.”
“You’ve been so good for her. I’m glad you guys met. I’m glad she’s had you to lean on while I’ve been away.”
“Me too. I’m glad we met her. She brought me you.” She reaches up to kiss me, soft and gentle. This might be my favourite Katy: quiet conversations in low light, tender kisses and bright eyes. This is the Katy that has my heart swelling in my chest and slamming against my ribs, the one that has the most terrifying words dancing on the tip of my tongue. This is the Katy who has me along for the ride with her. The Katy I’m falling in love with, with no power to resist.