Chapter Nine
Milo
“How was your lunch date?” Darcy asked, right as I’d popped a forkful of Jonathan’s delicious lasagne into my mouth. There was a knowing smile on Darcy’s face, something between smug and satisfied, and it turned more serene as I glared at him.
He’d had the whole afternoon to bring this up, but he’d insisted on waiting, for some devious, scheming reason I didn’t understand.
It wasn’t like I’d hidden the fact I was going out for lunch with Rupert.
I’d spent the whole flipping afternoon floating around the shop singing under my breath and trying to make Alfie dance with me.
“Now?” I asked, swallowing quickly and regretting it when the inside of my throat burned. “You want to talk about this now?”
“Why not?”
“I dunno, because you’ve had the whole afternoon and we’re trying to have dinner?
” I gestured at the group of us who were sat around the kitchen table in Jonathan’s cottage.
It was a little small to fit all five of us, but I didn’t mind the cosiness.
There was something so warm and comforting about all of us getting together to eat and hang out, and I hoped it’d be something we’d do more of, especially over the winter when things were quieter.
“Sorry,” Alfie said, almost looking sheepish. But not quite. Despite his innocent-looking face, he was totally in on this scheme too. “We thought you might try and avoid it if we asked you this afternoon.”
“Why would I do that?”
“That’s what I said,” Owen said. He gave Darcy a teasing smile. “It’s just lunch. Not like they’re doing anything nefarious.”
“Thank you! I took Rupert to Novel Tea for food, nothing else. It’s not like we were sneaking off to shag behind the beach huts,” I said with a casual shrug.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Alfie’s and Jonathan’s faces tint slightly.
I was ninety-nine percent sure they’d hooked up in Theo and Laurie’s beach hut at least once over the summer while Alfie was on his lunch break.
The only thing I lacked was proof. But their blushes were all the confirmation I needed.
I wasn’t going to bring it up though, because contrary to what some people believed, I had class.
Sometimes.
“I guess I’m still struggling to wrap my head around the idea of you and Rupert,” Darcy said as he took a sip of his wine.
He wasn’t quite meeting my eyes, his gaze falling somewhere off to the side and landing on the bowl of salad in the middle of the table.
“I know I shouldn’t judge, but you two spent the whole summer bickering and arguing and now…
I mean you wanted to train seagulls, Milo!
Seagulls! How do you go from that to kissing over cake in Novel Tea? ”
“Stop spying on me, Darcy. It’s creepy,” I said. I didn’t want to know how Darcy knew what Rupert and I had done because that was a conspiracy theory rabbit-hole just waiting to happen.
“Sorry, er, that’s on me,” Jonathan said quietly from the other side of the table. He looked very embarrassed, like he wanted the ground to open and swallow him up. “Theo saw you, and he told me and Laurie. He’s a terrible gossip. Although I suppose I’m not much better since I told Alfie.”
“And I told Darcy and Owen,” Alfie said.
He, on the other hand, did not look embarrassed.
“Fuck’s sake. Is there no privacy in this godforsaken place?
” I asked, half for dramatics and half out of frustration.
Living in a small town meant everyone knew everything, and while most people kept things to themselves and minded their own business, it meant there was this weird middle ground where everyone knew things, but nobody told you they knew and then pretended they didn’t.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Jonathan continued and I felt a pang of guilt. Out of everyone, Jonathan was the person it was least possible to be annoyed at. He was too sweet.
I waved his concerns away with my hand. “It’s not your fault. You can’t help that Theo is nosy and I guess… we were in public.” I sighed, wondering if I should tell Rupert before he found out from anyone else. I hoped he wouldn’t freak out, but if he did, I’d do my best to reassure him.
Turning to Darcy, I continued, “Look, I get that maybe it’s sudden for you, but I don’t need to sit here and justify myself.
Rupert’s sweet, and yeah, maybe we’ve been shitty to each other all summer, but that’s in the past. We’re not holding it against each other, and I need you to do the same.
I’ve told you this isn’t a joke, and it’s bloody annoying you’re still treating it like one. ”
“I’m sorry,” Darcy said. “I promise I’ll do better.”
“Thank you.”
“We can still tease you about your dating life though, right?” Alfie asked, picking up his glass of sparkling elderflower and giving me a little smile. “Give you unwanted advice, tips, that sort of thing?”
“Hey! My advice is always excellent. I am a top-notch dating advisor.”
Owen grinned and nudged Darcy gently. “I mean, you did help us get our shit together.”
“Exactly. Point to me,” I said. “And I helped Theo and Laurie remind Alfie of things.”
“You let them kidnap me,” Alfie said with something akin to outrage. I don’t know why he was upset. It had needed to happen.
“Kidnap is such a strong word. I’d prefer to say I let them borrow you,” I said as I went back to my lasagne, which really was excellent.
We’d requested it specially because Jonathan had sent Alfie with a lasagne to my flat when Owen was being a twat and Darcy had turned up crying.
The lasagne had been amazing, but I’d been desperate to know what it tasted like straight from the oven when I could focus on eating it, not on mopping up Darcy’s tears and plotting ways to make Owen see sense.
Although most of my ideas had been vetoed by Alfie, because apparently it was a crime to force people to stay in the freezing depths of the North Sea until they pulled their heads out their arse.
“Anyway, it all worked out,” I continued.
“But I have to say, if any of you try that shit with Rupert, I will be pissed. He’s…
” I trailed off. I trusted all the people at this table with my life—mostly—but Rupert hadn’t given me permission to tell anyone about his ADHD or his rejection sensitivity, and I wasn’t about to go airing out his private business to anyone without permission. Not even to my best friends.
“If there’s ever a problem, you can blame me. It’ll probably be my fault,” I said instead. There were a few looks shot my way, but nobody challenged me. I wondered if I’d suddenly made things awkward, but then Jonathan, sweet bean that he was, said,
“You know, I realised the other day I have met Rupert before. I didn’t think I had but he was the poor man Fred roped in to run the tombola at the church fete.”
“Yeah, he was volunteered by Norman,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m sure Rupert would love to find something to volunteer him for in return.”
“I’ll mention it to Fred. I’m sure she can find something.
Do you think Norman would make a good narrator?
The other day she was muttering something about doing a bigger nativity event before Christmas and needing someone with a good voice,” Jonathan said.
He was smiling now and Alfie was gazing at him with adoration.
It would have been sickening, if I hadn’t wanted to find someone to do the exact same thing with.
I’d never realised how much I wanted to be in a solid, steady, loving relationship until my friends had started settling down. But seeing them so happy and supported was making me ache with need, a touch of jealousy flaring underneath.
It wasn’t like I hated them for being in love, or wanted them to break up, or any of that shit. I simply wanted that sort of love for myself, and hated that I didn’t have it, even if I hadn’t really considered wanting it until now.
But my brain was contrary like that, and it was very rarely constructive.
“Definitely. He’s a former stage actor, he’d probably love it. Especially if he gets chosen over his husband. Rupert says they’re petty as fuck.”
Owen laughed then paused for a second, like he was putting pieces together. “Wait, is his husband’s name Sidney? I’m sure my dad’s mentioned them before. I think Sidney does tours up at the Castle. People absolutely love him!”
“Yeah, that’s him. At least, I assume so. How many petty old gays can Heather Bay have?”
“I mean, give it thirty or forty years and there’ll be quite a lot of us,” Darcy said.
“Jeez, Darcy, way to make me feel fucking ancient,” I said teasingly. “I already feel old now.”
“Thirty-one is not old,” Alfie said.
“Not unless you’re watching the Olympics,” Owen said wryly.
“Every time they talk about someone in their thirties they act like my grandpa’s come out of retirement.
I mean, he’s dead, so that doesn’t quite work, but you know what I mean.
Like they’re fucking ancient and they’re going to break everything the moment they set foot on the course.
Especially when it’s stuff like skating, surfing, or snowboarding.
I saw someone called the grandfather of the field and he was twenty-nine! Felt like I had one foot in the grave.”
Darcy leant over and kissed him, smirking as he muttered something under his breath about Owen still having plenty of energy. I sighed and rolled my eyes, prodding Darcy in the arm. “Oi, no dirty talk at the table.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Yes, you did.”
Darcy scoffed playfully. “If you think that’s dirty talk, you need to get laid more.”
“I plan to,” I said. “And when I do, I shall be a tasteful, classy bastard and not talk about sucking dick over lasagne.”
Alfie snorted and Darcy looked at me pointedly, like he was debating whether to argue with me. Probably thinking about how I’d never been classy in my life.
Which was true.
I occasionally had class, but I’d never been classy. There was a difference.
“You’re going to see Rupert again then?” asked Owen, tearing another bit of garlic bread off and dunking it in his lasagne.
“Yeah, I am.” I wasn’t going to deny it. Why would I? I had nothing to hide. “I like him. He’s cute and interesting and we get on well. Plus, I love Miss Elizabeth, and I would die if I didn’t get to see her again.”
“She is very cute,” Jonathan said. “Does she wear hats? If so, you should get her a bonnet.”
“Oh my God she would look so fucking cute in a bonnet! I need to get one!” I had no idea where I would acquire a snake-sized Regency bonnet, but I wouldn’t rest until I found one.
And with my brain, it was likely to be a literal thing. Once I got an idea fixed in my mind, I found them hard to shake. At least to start with. After a few days, weeks, or even months, the fixation would wear off and I’d never think about it again.
It was why I had a graveyard of forgotten and abandoned hobbies scattered across my flat. I dreaded to think how much I’d spent over the years on things I’d only done a couple of times.
“I bet you could! I mean, I’m sure clothes for dolls would work. Or taxidermy? I mean, Theo has plenty of taxidermied mice in costumes, so someone must make things that small,” Jonathan said, musing over the problem with a seriousness I appreciated.
We kept chatting as we ate, the conversation moving on to Theo and Laurie’s upcoming wedding and Alfie’s progress on finding a suit, to Darcy and Owen’s plans for the winter, to local gossip.
I mentioned Alex’s question about potentially supplying Novel Tea too, and we briefly discussed it, although we moved on swiftly because we’d decided to try and steer clear of anything to do with work.
We talked about the business enough when we were there, and we needed to remember to take breaks or we’d work twenty-four-seven. And that wasn’t good for any of us.
After the lasagne, there was an apple and blackberry crumble—with ice cream, obviously—and we ate in the living room while chatting and laughing while the amazing and terrible Van Helsing movie with Hugh Jackman played in the background.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket as Hugh Jackman, looking sexy in his leathers, strode on screen, to see if there was anything from Rupert. There wasn’t, so I decided to remind him about earlier. Just in case he’d forgotten.
Milo
Can’t wait to kiss you again tomorrow. Can’t stop thinking about it
Milo
Also have you ever seen the Van Helsing movie with Hugh Jackman? I’d forgotten how fucking cheesy it is but it’s fucking awesome. He should have long hair more often. Although Dracula is also fucking sexy. Idk I wouldn’t say no to either
Rupert
That film is a gem and I’ll never hear a word against it. It’s perfect. And I agree, Van Helsing is hot but Dracula is hotter!
Rupert
And I can’t wait to kiss you too. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.
Rupert
Along with all the ways I can teach you to say please ;)
I smirked at my screen, shifting slightly in my seat and hoped nobody was reading over my shoulder. But there were no rules about dirty talking after dinner.
Milo
Yeah? Are you going to tell me?
Rupert
No
Milo
Are you going to show me?
Rupert
Maybe…
Milo
What if I said please?
Rupert
Saying please to being taught to say please? Yes, you can do that
Milo
Then please teach me <3
Rupert
Tomorrow I will
Milo
Can’t wait