When The Night Falls (The Night #1)

11 | hunt of a lifetime

William

One cannot choose with whom to fall in love. It is entirely primal and has been ruled by instincts as long as humankind has existed. Had I been a victim of the delusion that we had such a thing as free will, I would have believed that you could only choose whether to pursue or not. But I wasn’t. I knew full well that my reaction to her existence was embedded in my DNA, and that it was encoded in my genes that I would pursue her despite her rejection.

However, I was a strategic type of suitor – the calculating kind. Some would even say cunning. Unlike those who went straight for the kill, I preferred to lure my target into my web. In order to do that, I had to know my prey – how it operated, how it thought, how it could be seduced and finally overcome.

Indeed, the beginning of love is very much a hunt – thrilling, rapacious, and utterly instinctual. All at once, the brain and the body have turned toward one person, the senses have sharpened to perceive even the slightest sign of their existence.

However, when falling in love, you never recognise it at the very moment it happens. In retrospect, it’s easy to identify the moment which triggered the realisation, but one cannot recognise it in the exact moment when love first begins to manifest. Because of that, I was entirely unaware of just how profound my feelings were on the verge of becoming. In fact, as I glanced at Cara across the gym, I thought all I was guilty of was fleeting interest or a rude curiosity that was based on primitive, reproductive urges.

I hadn’t realised that the process had begun, that with each second that ticked by, I was gradually losing myself in her, that my sense of self was slowly waning to create room for her, in favour of her. Instead, I was under the impression that I was mainly looking to sway her mind to repair my bruised ego. I was bitter that she hadn’t found my offer sufficient enough, bitter that she had been able to remain sensible despite my ardent efforts to stir romanticisms in her, and I was bitter that she didn’t seem as preoccupied with me as I was with her.

I simply hadn’t grasped that how I reacted to her soft voice delivering sharp remarks was a sign of love manifesting, that her seductive eyes and the total fire they contained had instead lured me into their heat; nor did I, at the time, fathom the reason why I would gladly have made a fool of myself merely for the chance to hear her laugh.

Oblivious to the truth, I mistook genuine affection for an injured ego and assumed it was only my vanity that urged me to change her mind. I had no idea that it was the prelude to love. I was convinced that if I managed to change her verdict about us, I would finally be able to exorcise her constant presence in my thoughts. I was aware it was a cynical motivation, but to spare my sanity, I considered it a necessary evil.

However, I was still contemplating which route to take in order to achieve my goal. Thus far, I had settled on the tactic of trying to befriend my foe, because if I did, I could perhaps locate her weakness and eventually exploit it.

The trouble was that I had never encountered an enemy quite so strong before. She seemed impossible to read, like she existed in a language entirely foreign to me. There was a mystery to her, like the suspense of a tale I had never heard before and couldn’t predict the end of.

She was whole all on her own, and frankly, I admired her for that. She didn’t need anyone but herself, much less me. She wore her independence like armour, and it protected her to a fault. So then, how does one defeat an enemy boasting such a brilliant defence?

The Trojan way, I supposed. I would have to trick her into letting me past her walls, and once inside, I would make them crumble one by one until only she remained. Then, at last, my mind would be free of her – my ego restored .

Perhaps the extent of my determination should have encouraged me to suspect that something about my fascination with her was beyond the ordinary; had I truly not cared for her, then her rejection wouldn’t have injured me as badly as it had.

But I didn’t suspect. Instead, I had gone blind and was desperately groping in the dark.

After a final pull-up, I released the bar and landed on my feet. I glanced over my shoulder, but I was far from the only one to look in her direction. Jason hadn’t lied: she was indeed a magnet for attention. Had she been mine I might have enjoyed it, but she wasn’t.

While I knew she was perfectly capable of managing on her own, their hungry gazes still irritated me. From the little I had learned about her thus far, I was certain this was a far cry from the attention she appreciated. Why else would she feel the need to cover up her derrière with that oversized black jumper whenever she did squats?

I also inferred a dimension of disrespect from their ogling. Her jumper might as well have been a sign begging her admirers to look away, yet they all turned a blind eye to it and objectified her anyway.

I found their behaviour repulsive and uncivilised, and it summoned a strange urge to protect her from their sexualising stares, so without further thought, I grabbed my bag and bottle of chalk and approached her. I hoped my presence by her side would intimidate at least some of the men to look away. Their eyes would avert for the wrong reason, but at least she would be spared from their ogling for now.

‘Eighty kilos – not bad,’ I said.

‘Just finished my last set,’ she replied breathily, and I had to smile at the sight of her flushed face and damp skin. It all looked so familiar.

‘So you won’t be needing the rack?’

‘No.’ She wiped her forehead with her arm. ‘Dumbbell rows next.’

‘I’ll take over this, then. Deadlifts.’

‘I’ll help you remove the plates.’

‘You can leave two of them on.’

After giving her a nod of gratitude, I wondered what to say. It had been obvious from the moment she arrived with Jason that she was here to train, not chat. It was also plausible that she was deliberately trying to avoid me, but that didn’t align with my goal, so I had to stall her somehow.

‘Did you finish assembling your furniture on Friday?’ In my hurry, it was the only thing I had thought to say, but after hearing it, I wished I had remained quiet instead. What a dry start to a conversation. I hoped she wouldn’t think me boring for that.

‘My desk? Yes, I did.’ She tilted her head and smiled, and the view was enchanting. ‘Thanks for helping me out.’

‘Anytime. So your wardrobe still hasn’t collapsed, I take it?’

She chuckled as she pulled a plate off the barbell. ‘Not yet. Did you have fun with Violet?’

Her bold question took me aback. Unsure of where to look, I gazed around and noticed that Jason was watching us from the bench press area. When I recovered from the surprise, I turned my attention back to her and scoured her features for any sign of resentment, but I discovered nothing. She looked perfectly unfazed.

I sensed my bitterness beginning to fester. It was obvious that I had meant nothing to her at all, and that I would be flattering myself if I assumed anything else. There wasn’t a spark of envy in her, not a fragment of jealousy.

‘Not quite as much fun as I would have had if she’d been you,’ I shamelessly confessed, because I hoped to provoke a reaction from her.

But none came.

‘Is she the partner you mentioned?’ she asked while removing another plate.

I studied her intently. ‘Yeah, why?’

‘I’m surprised you’re comfortable sleeping with a colleague.’

I thought I detected a hint of resentment in her voice, but perhaps it was only wishful thinking on my part. It might well have been general disapproval, which would make sense in light of her stated reservations about sleeping with a colleague.

‘I’m usually not, but I can make exceptions. Something to bear in mind.’ My tone was playful, but we both knew I meant it, which was probably why she didn’t respond with anything other than a scoff.

I wondered again whether she had overheard my conversation with Jason the other day. I had meant for her to hear it, but I wasn’t sure she actually had. The door to her bedroom had been closed before I knocked. If she had, I wondered what her thoughts were. That Jason had decided to probe into my recent sexual endeavours so thoroughly wasn’t something I had anticipated, so I had tried to shine a light on the fact that I would much prefer to spend time with her than them. But her favour still seemed far from my reach, so now I doubted she had eavesdropped at all.

‘Impressive weights you’re doing,’ I said to help myself think of something else. ‘I saw you hip-thrusting two hundred kgs earlier. ’

She gave me a smirk. ‘Scared I’ll put you out of business?’

Her cheek never failed to entertain me, but she always seemed to forget that I was rather a proficient player in that game myself.

‘We both know I’m a capable thruster. I can still hear you moaning my name in my sleep. Quite the melody, that was.’ I hadn’t been able to resist. There was something about teasing her that felt entirely necessary. She reminded me of an angry chipmunk whenever I flustered her, because her voice reached octaves so high that it frankly impressed me – and amused me.

Her mouth dropped open, and the fresh colour in her face contended with even the brightest of reds.

‘You!’ she spluttered, high-pitched as predicted. ‘Stop reminding me already,’ she continued, glorious in her anger.

I was sure my grin matched the Devil’s. ‘It was only a joke, Cara. Just taking the piss while I still can. Can’t be doing it once you start work now, can I?’

‘You shouldn’t be doing it now, either!’ she said in a harsh whisper, clearly irate. Her hands had curled into fists by her sides. Her anger didn’t intimidate me in the slightest, though. On the contrary, it tempted me to continue.

‘But you look so lovely with that colour in your cheeks – especially since I’m the one who put it there.’

‘You are unbelievable.’ She sounded despairing, and I realised I had shot myself in the foot when she undid the belt around her waist, grabbed her bag and stormed off.

As I gazed after her, I caught Jason in my peripheral vision. When I looked over, he shook his head at me.

‘Don’t be a dick, Will!’ he shouted across the gym, which earned us some curious glances from the few not listening to their own music.

I didn’t bother replying.

§ § §

In the changing rooms, I was facing my locker when Jason asked, ‘What did you say to Cara earlier?’

‘Nothing, really.’

‘Didn’t seem like nothing.’

‘Made a bad joke, that’s all.’

‘About what?’

‘Nothing I’d like to repeat. I mean to apologise. ’

‘You should.’

I glanced in his direction and gave a faint nod as I reached into my locker for my shirt.

‘Were you flirting with her?’ he asked then, but since I had expected the question, my equilibrium remained intact.

‘No,’ I said with ease, but what I actually wanted was to tell the truth. In fact, I wanted to tell every single person in this room – the whole fucking world – that I had slept with her, only so I could deprive her of the excuse – the poor and pathetic excuse – which was but one among the several ridiculous excuses she had used to reject me. At least then, I would have been one step closer to achieving my goal – she would no longer have been able to hide behind the erroneous conviction that people would care about whom she invited into herself.

But I had made her a promise, and I intended to keep it. Besides, I could only befriend her if she remained unaware of my antagonism. I couldn’t imagine she would want anything to do with me if I told Jason prematurely.

I frowned when I realised that I ought to be questioning why it should matter whether I had been flirting with her or not.

‘Why?’ I asked, and his potential answer filled me with dread. Had we, unwittingly, shared a woman? ‘Is there something I should know?’

It bothered me that he decided to put on his jumper at that precise moment, because it made me wonder if he had done it deliberately to veil his reaction, or whether it was merely because he didn’t care all that much for the subject. Was it genuine or feigned nonchalance?

‘What do you mean “why”?’ he asked, but his voice was muffled. ‘Are you asking whether I fancy her?’ he continued as soon as his head popped out.

‘Do you?’

Something strange happened inside my chest as I considered the idea. There was a contraction, and for a moment, I stopped drawing breath.

‘Not really. She’s hot, though, really hot. Or perhaps beautiful is a better word to describe her. I’ve never been able to decide – she’s a good blend.’

‘Have you slept with her?’

Jason laughed. ‘No, we’re not like that. I’m only saying she’s attractive. Hardly think that’s worth fucking up our friendship for – pun intended.’

I faced my locker again, and it demanded some effort to remain composed. He hadn’t really denied anything – not as clearly as I would have preferred, anyway – and I couldn’t keep probing him about this without raising suspicion.

Would he have slept with her if offered the chance?

‘You don’t agree?’ he asked.

‘On what?’

‘That she’s attractive?’

I hadn’t the faintest idea why, but the question pissed me off.

‘Jason, she’s your best friend. Quit sexualising her.’ What I said gave the illusion that I refused to speak further on the matter for moral reasons, but the reality was that I wasn’t exactly sure why I wanted him to shut up. Perhaps it was because I felt nauseated at the possibility of him being sexually interested in her. The disgusting images were already feasting on my mind. Or perhaps it was because I wanted her for myself but didn’t want to take her from him. He was my brother, after all – the person I cherished the most. If he wanted her too, would I be able to let her go for his sake? Would he even desire her if he learned the truth about our past?

Now more than ever, I felt the strain of keeping the truth from him. I wished she hadn’t begged me not to tell. I wished she would have understood that, while Jason might have disliked the news at first, he would have come to terms with it within the span of a mere day – I was certain. Unlike me, he simply wasn’t capable of holding grudges. But now that she had demanded my silence, I couldn’t break it without self-sabotaging.

Jason’s eyebrows leaped up his forehead. ‘Damn, someone’s triggered. I wasn’t sexualising her, I was admiring her. There’s a difference. Christ.’

‘She’s well fit,’ a random bloke commented behind us then. ‘The bird with the black jumper covering her arse, right? I’d do her in a heartbeat.’

That sort of crass, macho behaviour was exactly the reason why women often felt hostile toward our gender. Like them, I had no patience with it. But that was only one among several reasons why his statement roused great ire in me.

I refused to acknowledge him. If I did, I worried I would inadvertently get myself into a fight. If there was one thing I had learned over the years, it was that my mouth was quite adept at getting me into serious trouble. It had earned me a black eye on more occasions than I cared to count, especially on the football pitch during my teenage years. So, with difficulty, I bit my tongue and faced away.

Jason appeared to notice my riled state, so he merely gave the bloke a nod before he turned his back to him as well .

‘What’s put you in such a foul mood?’ he asked very quietly.

I lost it. ‘Men who constantly sexualise women, as if their primary purpose is to please us, as if their personality and intellect are of secondary importance. I wish they’d understand that, by behaving that way, they’re doing us all a great disservice.’

‘Are you talking to me, mate?’ the bloke asked, sounding menacing.

I turned toward him, my muscles tensing as my stance grew hostile. I hated violence of any sort, but if he attacked, I was prepared to defend myself.

‘Well, since you ask, you must have identified with the men I’m referring to.’

His brown eyes lit with anger, and I could tell he was considering whether to strike me. Judging by the look of him, I was confident he had steroids to thank for the size of his muscles. I was still stronger than him, though, and much taller. He would be no match for me. Studying me from head to toe, he seemed to realise the same, so he took a step back and clenched his narrow jaw.

I growled, ‘Why do you think she was wearing a jumper to cover her arse?’

He pressed his lips together but said nothing.

‘And yet you sexualise her anyway,’ I spat.

‘Will,’ Jason intervened, grabbing my shoulder. ‘Calm down.’

‘Sorry,’ the lad murmured. ‘I meant no disrespect.’

‘Try thinking next time, yeah? With something other than your cock.’ I turned away from him and grabbed my bag. ‘I’m finished,’ I said to Jason. ‘I’ll wait outside.’ Giving the lad a final glare, I headed out.

I was surprised to find Cara there, leaning against a wall with her phone in her hand. In my experience, women tended to be slower than us when it came to changing and getting ready, but I supposed this was just yet another rule she was an exception to.

I knew I owed her an apology, so I drew in a steadying breath before I approached. I had barely managed three paces by the time she noticed me, and the look she gave me told me I wasn’t forgiven yet.

The instant I reached her, I said, ‘I’m sorry about earlier.’

‘You’re honestly such a knob.’ She shoved her phone into the front pocket of her jumper. ‘I’m trying to put it behind me.’

‘Pun intended?’ I joked, hoping to lighten her mood.

She gaped, and soon enough, an incredulous chuckle poured out. ‘Okay, that was funny, but I’m being serious. You’ve got to let me move on. ’

I knew she hadn’t meant to injure my feelings by saying that, but she did, nevertheless.

‘I’m having a hard time doing it myself. Perhaps that’s why I keep bringing it up,’ I said frankly.

I thought I detected sympathy in her eyes, and she looked about to say something, but right before she could, Jason interrupted.

‘Fucking hell, Cara,’ he said upon reaching us. ‘I told Will just now that I find you beautiful, and he went and accused me of sexualising you. Do you feel sexualised? Because my conscience is seriously suffering right now, so I’d—’

‘Jason – what?’ She frowned, and I had averted my eyes by the time she searched for them. ‘You call me beautiful every day,’ she said, and I considered that to be valuable information. ‘Of course I don’t think that.’

‘Right, good.’ He huffed with relief. ‘Will got me thinking, you see. Actually, he nearly got into a scuffle with another lad just now, defending you.’

Though my intention hadn’t been to defend solely Cara, but rather women overall, I was grateful he told her that. Perhaps hearing this would make her consider me in a favourable light.

‘He did what?’ Cara asked, astounded. Feeling her eyes on my profile, I looked over to meet them.

‘Yeah.’ Jason nodded. ‘This random guy declared – unsolicited – that he found you hot, and Will lost it. I’m honestly quite proud.’

I knitted my brows. Important details had been left out. I didn’t want Cara to get the impression I was prone to violence either, because I wasn’t.

‘It was the way he said it,’ I defended myself. ‘He sounded primitive. It pissed me off, especially when you’ – I gestured to her – ‘were wearing a jumper to hide your bum. It might as well have been a bloody placard, and he ignored it. I wasn’t looking for a fight – I despise violence. I’d never hit someone first. I merely meant to rebuke him.’

Cara’s deep-blue eyes grew warmer, almost inviting. Seeing it, I forgot everything else. The effect it had on me was far more severe than I had been prepared for. This wasn’t normal, I thought, perplexed.

‘Thanks, Will,’ she said, and I hated the smile she wore. She was supposed to grow weak for me, not the other way around. Yet, when I looked at her, I could sense that my strength was waning.

I gave her a vague nod. Looking between her and Jason, I found my situation quite intolerable. With too many thoughts to sort out, I started toward the exit.

‘I’ll see you later.’

§ § §

There was quite the deluge outside, but I decided to walk home in spite of it, hoping to clear my head. After fifteen minutes, I had got no further with sorting out my thoughts, so, eager for a distraction, I took my phone out of my bag and checked my messages. There was one from Andy and one from my good friend Alexander Winton. The three of us had been a trio ever since primary school, although I supposed Jason was an uncounted member of it as well.

I opened Andy’s first.

Omw to Alex. Join?

Instead of replying, I opened Alexander’s message.

Andy’s coming over. You should come. I’m sure he’s going to complain about Chloe, and you’re much better than I am at putting him in his place

Groaning, I halted to reply to Alex.

You’ll have to manage on your own. I’ve got dinner plans with the fam. Just tell him he’s being an idiot. He knows it’s true, deep down

Poor Chloe. I truly pitied her.

Over the years, both Alexander and I had grown to regard her as a sister; she wasn’t just Andy’s girlfriend to us. Because of that, we had taken her side in the aftermath of their split. Besides, we both knew it was only a matter of time before Andy would come crawling back to her, because his love for her was undying. Their issues weren’t based on a lack of love, but rather on a difference of opinion on how to proceed in the future.

Chloe desperately wanted to conceive, and she was growing short on time. Four years ago, she had been diagnosed with endometriosis, which was a condition that could affect her fertility. The older she got, the slimmer her chances of conceiving would become. Like Andy and Alex, she was twenty-nine now, and she had waited a whole decade for Andy to become mature enough to be a father. The trouble was that Andy still didn’t feel ready. The idea of children frightened him. He had voiced concerns about whether he was fit for the role at all and frequently hid behind the excuse that he wanted to focus on his career for a while longer, which – understandably – Chloe had grown impatient with.

All she demanded was a clear answer – did he want to have children anytime soon? If he didn’t, he had to let her go. But Andy did want children. He had told me several times. He just wasn’t quite sure he was fit for fatherhood at this point in his life.

It was quite the dilemma, but I was convinced Andy was overthinking it. As soon as he held his baby in his arms, he would settle into being a father without trouble.

A message came in from Francesca then, and I was reminded that I still hadn’t replied to her last text.

Sorry if this seems clingy, but are we meeting tomorrow or not? I’d like to know so that I can make other plans if we’re not x

‘Fuck,’ I muttered and resumed walking. I had marked her text as read, something I always did because I favoured transparency, but now it had cost me the time I otherwise could have spent contemplating her offer. I would have to reply soon.

I wondered if Kate knew about us. We hadn’t spoken all that much since the end of our relationship five years ago. As I thought about it, I couldn’t remember having spoken to her at all during the past year. She lived in Lancaster now with her new boyfriend, whose name was Matthew – an engineer like her.

Kate and I had met during my final year at Cambridge. We were only bed partners when I first met Francesca – Kate’s best friend from childhood. It wasn’t until I was about to move back to London to complete the LPC LLM at the University of Law that Kate and I agreed to try a relationship.

At first, things were stable between us, and I often went back to Cambridge to visit her. But, as time went on, my career demanded more and more of my time. In the end, our relationship fell apart, but I hadn’t tried to save it either.

Following our split, I hadn’t thought I would meet Francesca again, and I certainly hadn’t imagined that I would ever end up in bed with her – I had never found her interesting.

Then, by some coincidence, I encountered her at Disrepute a few weeks before I first met Cara. Violet was there as well, but she left early to meet Clive – a man she was currently seeing unofficially and had yet to make up her mind about.

Nevertheless, Violet’s departure that night made way for Francesca and me to rekindle our past friendship. She told me she had recently split from the boyfriend she’d had when I was with Kate – Oliver, who I had met a few times – and that she had plans to move from Southampton to London in the near future.

As the evening progressed, she found the courage to ask me out on a date, but I was hesitant to accept. Though Kate and I were no longer together, I still had tremendous respect for her, so I would never think of courting one of her closest friends, and I especially wouldn’t when knowing I had completely broken her heart. It would only have rubbed salt into the wound, and I wanted to avoid that.

But when I asked Francesca if she still kept in touch with Kate, she explained that they had drifted apart and were no longer close, so I didn’t see any harm in going on a date with her.

I didn’t expect much from it, but it turned out to be endurable, and I even went so far as to end it with her in my bed. As she recovered beside me, her naked body damp with sweat, she confessed to lusting after me even while I was with Kate and she with Oliver, and that she had been infatuated with me back then.

The news upset me at first because I did not appreciate the disloyalty it implied toward Kate, but upon remembering that she was no longer part of our lives, I put it out of my mind. Besides, Francesca had never acted on it, and I could hardly hold her human errors against her. We were all guilty of having thoughts and feelings that would be considered immoral if acted upon, but that was the critical distinction – they required the act in order to be punished as immoral.

We had met six more times since then because – and it was an awful thing to admit – her presence in my life had become a matter of convenience for sexual purposes. Though she wasn’t the brightest, she was a pleasant person – she could even be funny sometimes – and she was capable of arousing me, so I had seen no reason to end it. Recently, however, I had sensed that her attachment was becoming stronger than I was comfortable with. While she was perfectly charming, I didn’t want to pursue a romantic relationship with her, because our chemistry had never been effortless. Unlike Cara, she didn’t fascinate me in the slightest, and I considered initial fascination a requirement when it came to my romantic endeavours.

There I went again. Cara, Cara, Cara – as if I hadn’t a life of my own, as if she was the only person worth my attention in the entire world.

I now compared every potential candidate to her. She had become the standard I sought, and nothing else would suffice. I no longer enjoyed Violet’s moans of pleasure because they weren’t Cara’s, and I seemed unable to admire Francesca’s beauty because it wasn’t Cara’s.

The reality of that angered me to the extent that I acted on emotion and replied to Francesca that I would be delighted to see her tomorrow. Foolish in my misery, I hoped I could fill the void that Cara had left behind with the attention of other women.

I was desperate to regain control because Cara’s presence in my life made me feel powerless. In her audience, it was like I no longer reigned over my own mind, much less my body, and if there was one thing that frightened me above all, it was to be rendered powerless.

And yet, despite this, I experienced an incessant need to see her again. It was entirely compulsive; I couldn’t seem to resist it no matter how hard I tried.

Dinner couldn’t happen soon enough.

§ § §

‘I’m very sorry to hear about Andy and Chloe,’ Mum said after a sip of her favourite red wine. ‘I’m sure they’ll get back together, though. This isn’t the first time they’ve hit a bump in the road.’

‘Yeah, I’m convinced it’s only temporary,’ I said.

‘I trust you’ll make sure of that,’ Dad said and gave me a crooked smile.

‘Alex and I are working on it at least.’

‘Meanwhile,’ Jason said, ‘I’m just minding my own business.’

I chuckled. ‘You’ve certainly got a knack for it.’

‘How about you, dear?’ Mum asked and looked at Cara. ‘Do you have a special man in your life?’

I hadn’t anticipated it, but my stomach sank when Jason wrapped his arm around her chair as if to mark his territory.

‘Only me,’ he joked.

‘Yes, only you,’ Cara said with a smile and reached for her glass of wine. ‘But on a serious note, the answer is no. I’m very committed to my studies, so I’m not interested in dating anyone at the moment.’

The reminder irritated me. Hadn’t I heard her pathetic excuses enough times by now? Would I ever see the day when she wouldn’t rub them in my face?

‘I’m sure a lot of men are very upset about that,’ Dad flattered her amusedly. If only he knew he’d mocked his own son while he was at it.

As if his statement had prompted her, Cara’s eyes slid in my direction, but she averted them as soon as they collided with mine.

‘I hardly think they’re missing out on anything,’ she said, and I was surprised by her humility. Did she not know the extent of her power? How effortlessly she rendered men senseless with lust? How far they would go for a mere second of her time?

‘I’m really quite boring,’ she continued. ‘They’d grow impatient with my thirst for knowledge rather quickly, I expect, as it would probably come at the expense of their ego.’

Dad leaned back, and I could tell from his expression that her reply intrigued him. ‘With all due respect, dear, I think you underestimate men – the decent ones, at least. In fact I’m sure that spirit of yours is precisely what would attract your admirers in the first place.’

I almost said ‘thank you’ since he had spoken my mind, but I resisted because it would have exposed our secret.

A smile surfaced on Cara’s plump lips. ‘I hope you’re right.’

‘He’s definitely right,’ Jason said with a shake of his head. ‘You’re remarkable, and you ought to know it.’

His confidence led me to focus on my dish because I suddenly couldn’t stand the sight of him. Since I had experienced it before, although never quite so intensely, I recognised jealousy when it unfurled within me, but never had my own brother been the target of it.

When I arrived here, I hadn’t expected to feel so rigid, much less this momentary resentment toward my brother which, if left untreated, could easily fester. Their familiarity triggered my envy because I yearned to know her like that. I envied him for having the freedom to wrap his arm around her shoulders without her shying away from his touch, and I envied him for having constant access to the enigmatic alleys of her mind.

He had told me that he didn’t fancy her that way, but he was still a man. He would have to be blind, deaf and lack a cock not to feel even the slightest twitch in his pants around her. He might not view her in a romantic light, but I had no guarantee he wouldn’t ever consider her in a sexual light. A couple of pints in, he could easily make the mistake. He had done it before with my friend Harper .

Did I really have to count on Cara to retain the decency not to play us for fools? Did she even care about us being brothers? I knew she cared for Jason, but it wasn’t with ease that I relied on her to do the decent thing. The impression I had was that she was perfectly – if not too – capable of separating sex from feelings. In light of that, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she could sleep with Jason without giving further thought to it – unless he forced her to.

It was reasonable that I would experience discomfort at the thought of Jason entering her the same way that I had, but what didn’t make sense was my jealousy. Why did I yearn so desperately for her innermost secrets, for her body to invite my caress? And why did it bother me that other men could have the pleasure?

I continued to ride on that train of thought for quite some time until the answer dawned on me all at once.

This wasn’t mere lust. This wasn’t about my vanity; I wasn’t on a quest to repair a bruised ego.

I had fallen in love.

Under any other circumstances, I would have enjoyed the realisation, but since I knew Cara was far from interested in being with me, I was instead rather upset.

‘He’s signed out,’ I heard Jason say just before Mum called for what I realised was the third time, ‘William, darling. Hello?’

Like a deer caught in the headlights, I looked up.

‘Are you all right, dear?’ she asked worriedly. ‘You’re as white as a sheet.’

‘What is it?’

‘I wondered if you could fetch us another bottle of wine.’

Grateful for the chance to escape the table, I pushed my chair out and stood up. ‘Ripasso?’

‘That’ll do.’

‘He’s been acting weird all day,’ I heard Jason say as I left.

‘Well, he’s got a lot on his plate at work,’ Dad said. ‘The transaction he’s working on between GreenPark and Lightning Charge is a considerable one. GreenPark has got one of the largest networks of charging points for electric vehicles in the UK. Lightning Charge has been one of their competitors. You can imagine there’s lots to go over and consider to ensure that the transaction happens smoothly and that the acquisition won’t breach competition law – and I know Fred’s pushing him hard.’

While I appreciated his excuse, it wasn’t the real reason. The transaction was indeed a considerable one, but unlike my feelings, I had it under control.

I sighed as I reached into the wine fridge. This was quite the conundrum. Given Cara’s convictions, I doubted I stood any chance at all of earning her affections. It didn’t help that she commanded the attention of every man present wherever she went. It was only a matter of time before my successor would come knocking on her door. In fact, it was obvious that even Dad had fallen victim to her charm. So why should she favour me? It was clear our circumstances stopped her from entertaining even the thought of me, especially romantically.

I wondered if she would have been more amenable had I not been her flatmate’s brother and future boss. At the same time, I knew I could never offer her anything else. These were simply the cards I had been dealt, but could I still win with them?

I frowned as I reminisced about our night together. She had told me then that she considered me ‘boyfriend material’. Surely she must have meant that I possessed qualities she deemed desirable in a lover? So my personality wasn’t the issue. Our incompatibility wasn’t based on a difference of character but rather on external factors. But surely those things could be overcome?

I remembered another obstacle then. Aaron.

The moment I thought of him, my jealousy found another target, because her reasoning didn’t make any sense. She had told me she didn’t harbour romantic feelings for him, that he might as well ‘be air’ to her. But now I suspected her of having lied, because nothing else could explain her desire to remain with him when she could instead have reserved that time for me. No one was that rational. No one had that much self-discipline. If she truly liked me as much as she claimed – if I were truly ‘boyfriend material’ – then surely she would have chosen me over him.

It occurred to me that she might just be pretending that she didn’t have feelings for him because she was scared he would reject her – a defence mechanism, of sorts. Perhaps she actually loved him.

What made matters worse was that he didn’t carry the same risks as I did. He wasn’t her best friend’s brother, and he wasn’t her future boss. He was her lover. The advantage that gave him made me ill with jealousy and fear. Considering her threshold, the likelihood that she would date him was far higher than the likelihood that she would date me.

They were already sleeping together. That could easily advance into a relationship. It was evident that she harboured at least some version of love for him, or else she wouldn’t have been so attached. What if, in a few months, they decided to get serious?

I stood perfectly still, my heart aching in a manner it had never done before. I stopped breathing for a moment, waiting for the pain to pass, but it didn’t.

I grimaced and shook my head. It felt like my brain was overheating from all this thinking; I was hung up on the fact that she had described me as ‘boyfriend material’. Unless she had no conscience to speak of, it seemed too genuine a statement to be a lie. Had she told me that merely to shut me up? It would be a questionable method, but then again, it had worked at the time.

Delving deeper into thought, I remembered the scene in my office when she had signed her contract. The memory of her hand within mine remained particularly vivid because she hadn’t shied away from my touch. On the contrary, I was under the impression she had welcomed the intimacy. Moments before that, she had confessed she was guilty of sexualising me as well.

Suddenly my chest felt a bit lighter. Maybe I did stand a chance after all. The question remaining was how. How could I make her see that I would be worth risking her attention for?

I realised then that my strategy should remain the same; I would need to befriend her before anything else. While biding my time until she felt ready to settle down with someone, I would try to warm her up to the idea of being with me. I would show her that, rather than take from her, I meant to give to her – everything in my power to help her reach her goals. She was convinced she could manage it on her own, and while I was sure she could, too, my presence in her life would make it even easier, not harder. I meant to prove that to her – that I would be a convenience, not a burden.

But since the strength of her convictions was considerable, I expected the process would require patience. Fortunately, I boasted quite a lot of grit, and I would rely on that to achieve my goal.

I was going over the details of my plan as I returned to the dining room. When I walked in, I could tell from their expressions that my smile puzzled them.

‘That’s a different man to the one who left,’ Jason said with a raised brow.

‘I had a word with myself.’ I walked over to where Mum sat and opened the bottle to pour her a glass .

‘ Merci, mon chéri ,’ she said and caressed my back.

‘ De rien. ’ I directed my gaze to Cara’s. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been such terrible company. I’ve had a lot on my mind, that’s all.’

She smiled, and my heart palpitated at the view. ‘No need to apologise. You’re always wonderful company.’

‘Especially when he’s quiet,’ Jason joked.

‘Work-related?’ Dad asked me.

‘Yes,’ I lied. ‘Anyway, I’m handling it.’

‘You always do.’

Like I’d said, one can never choose with whom to fall in love. Now that I had been struck, all I could do was gear up for the hunt – of a lifetime.