Chapter 22
Luke
“Luke? Are you listening?”
“What?” I look up and Jessie raises an eyebrow at me.
“You’ve been in your own little world all morning,” she says, tilting her head. “So? Did you finally seal the deal with that gorgeous brunette you practically mauled at the bar?”
I swallow but don’t reply. Emmy and I agreed to keep this discreet but I know Jessie will smell blood in the water if I try to fob her off. She knows me too well.
“You know I don’t kiss and tell, Jess,” I say evenly, giving her a look.
She snorts and pulls a chair up to my desk. She’s settling in for the long haul and I know she won’t budge until I’ve thrown her a bone.
“Come on then, what’s her story? She’s stunning but she doesn’t look like our usual customers, if you catch my drift. Far too innocent. No wonder she’s been popular with the regulars.”
I frown at her words. I don’t like the thought of her being approached like prey. Even if I was the one watching her on CCTV like a predator.
“She’s an old friend,” I reply. “Not a lot to tell.”
“Sure.” Jessie smirks and stays in her seat, waiting me out. Fuck, I need some new friends.
“She’s been through a rough break up. Her husband cheated on her. I was… looking out for her,” I try. Jessie snorts. “Fine, she’s Nick’s little sister, ok? It’s… complicated.”
Jessie’s face falls.
“Nick’s little sister? As in, the one he raised when their parents died?”
When I nod, her face shifts from surprise to something resembling concern. Jessie and Nick don’t know each other but she knows enough about my life to understand who’s important to me.
I swallow hard. It’s not like I’d forgotten that Nick basically raised Em. I was there for most of her teenage years while she and Nick put themselves back together and became a family of two.
“Oh, Luke.” Jessie whistles low, but there’s no judgement in it, just surprise.
“I didn’t bring her here,” I mutter. “She’s just left her husband and she came with a friend. Total coincidence. What was I supposed to do?”
Jessie shrugs. “Not much you could do. She’s an adult, she signed up for membership, same as anyone else. I just…” She leans forward, eyes narrowing slightly. “You need to be careful. Emmy’s clearly new to the scene. Curious, sure, but new. Don’t let her drown before she learns to swim.”
“She’s not some doe-eyed lamb,” I say, defensively. “She’s strong. She came here for a reason.”
Jessie softens a little. “I’m sure she is. But being strong doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt. Especially if she’s already arriving with a big bruise on her heart. There’s a lot at stake here, that’s all.”
She pauses, pursing her lips slightly. She’s tonguing her lip ring, a surefire tell that she’s troubled.
She sighs and continues.
“I thought you were just screwing around with a new playmate but be careful, ok? This could get messy. I know how much Nick means to you. And I’m sure she means a lot to you too.” She levels me with a stern look.
“It’s just sex, Jess.” I reply, shrugging. “We’re two consenting adults, as you pointed out, and it’s none of Nick’s business.”
She gives me another long look and then tilts her head, bowing to my stubbornness.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. You or the beautiful brunette. Ok? Don’t do anything stupid.” She squeezes my shoulder across the desk and walks out.
I sigh.
It’s just sex, I remind myself. She doesn’t want or need anything more.
The following day is Wednesday and therefore my standing drink with Nick.
He’s opted for a pizza place this week and I find him picking at olives when I arrive.
As I approach, I feel a pang of guilt over what I’m doing with Em.
Nick’s always been overprotective but he’s been guilty of treating Emmy like a child for far too long.
He’d lose his mind if he knew what we were doing, let alone what I’ve got planned for her later in the week.
I push that particular mental image aside.
“Luke!” he says as I sit down. He looks a bit off colour today, slightly red around the eyes. “How are you, mate?”
“I’m good thanks, how are things?”
The waitress materialises at my side and I order a beer while she appraises me through the canopy of her false eyelashes. I’m used to double takes as I’m tall and sort of imposing, but I could do without the extra attention tonight. Nick clocks it and rolls his eyes as she retreats to get my drink.
“Can’t take you anywhere,” he mutters with a laugh, but it doesn’t contain much humour.
I arch an eyebrow at him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Everywhere we go, women throw themselves at you. I bet you’ve got a different woman every night at that club of yours,” he says darkly.
“I don’t, actually,” I say mildly, trying to counter his sudden mood.
“It’s been a long time since Lucy, that’s all I’m saying. There is more to life than being single and shagging around at 41.”
There’s a beat. He’s gazing at the olives and won’t look at me.
“Is this really about me, Nick?” I say, refusing to take the bait. He lets out a long breath.
“It’s just… One minute you’re carefree and single, then you meet this amazing woman, and then you’re married, and suddenly you’re about to become a dad, and you just think, what the fuck? How did this happen?”
Ah, there we go.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I reply as patiently as I can.
Nick always attacks when he’s sulking about something.
His MO has always been to lash out first, make grovelling apologies later.
I used to be referee between him and Emmy when she was seventeen, when the screaming matches were about curfews and Bacardi Breezers.
Another stab of guilt slices up my spine.
“I’m just not sure I’m ready for all this to change,” he says, mainlining olives and stirring his drink aggressively. I wonder how many he’s had.
“It’s understandable to be nervous, Nick,” I reply. “Has something happened with Priya?”
“We had a fight.”
Of course they did.
“What happened?”
“She said that if I can’t get over my need to control everything then she’ll be raising this baby with her parents.” He finally makes eye contact with me and I can see the fear in his eyes.
“And what did you say to that?”
“I said over my dead body was my kid being raised by her parents,” he says, with a groan. I wince.
“And how did that go down?”
“She told me to grow up and went to bed.” He shakes his head.
“I just… I feel like I’m fucking it all up.
I can’t stop thinking that something will go wrong with the pregnancy, or something will happen to us, or that she’ll realise I’m fucking useless and leave.
How can I possibly be ready to handle a tiny helpless human being? ”
“You’re scared,” I say, quietly.
“Yeah,” he says, rubbing his face with both hands.
“And I know I can’t control everything and that the odds are that everything will work out fine, but I can’t stop this sense of panic, you know?
I can’t just relax and be happy because I’m continually waiting for the other shoe to drop, for life to turn around and go NOPE and take it all away. ”
I lean across the table and squeeze his shoulder. Just then, the waitress reappears and deposits my drink, casting an alarmed look at Nick, who’s basically on the brink of tears.
“None of us can tell the future, Nick. But you can’t let your fear of what might happen steal the joy from what IS happening.
You guys are having a baby. You’re starting a whole new family together.
There is so much to feel thankful for, but if you keep worrying about what might go wrong, you’ll deny yourself all the happiness of what you’ve got right now. ”
“You’re right.” He lets out a long breath. “I was an arsehole before. Sorry, mate. I’m all up in my head and I lashed out. I’m a dick.”
“You are a dick,” I agree. “But you’re my dick.” He coughs out a rough laugh and the tension crumbles like a biscuit in tea.
I pat his hand once more and slide his glass out of reach. He doesn’t need another hit of pisco sour. The waitress swoops in with our order and two enormous pizzas land on the table. With luck, carbs will soak up the self-pity.
“So, how’s the club?” he asks, through a mouthful of pepperoni.
He always calls it “the club” and never by its name.
I think he’s terrified that someone will overhear and think he’s part of the kink world.
The reality is that we are so small and exclusive that it’s highly unlikely someone would hear the word ‘Salt’ and have a clue what we’re talking about.
“It’s good, thank you,” I reply. “We’ve had a boost in members recently and Jessie’s planning a bunch of themed nights.”
“Sounds great!” he replies. He’s asking to be polite but I know the idea of learning too much about what goes on behind Salt’s doors is a bit scary for him.
“You know I sorted out a standing membership, if you ever want to pop down,” I remind him, giving him a grin. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, as if the idea is completely preposterous.
He was shocked when I first told him I was quitting my job to open Salt, and he tries to be supportive.
But his questions have always been surface level.
I learned to stop oversharing the day I got too enthusiastic describing a custom spanking bench from Italy – he went pale, muttered “gosh!” and “jolly good!” like some Victorian elder who’d caught a glimpse of a bare ankle.
I realised then and there that this was an area where our tastes and interests dramatically diverged, so I don’t give him more information than he wants and he can tick off ‘ask Luke about work’ without fear of learning anything about pegging or water play.
Realistically, I knew it wouldn’t be his scene from the get-go but I never wanted to hide it from him because Nick and I are like brothers. We don’t keep secrets.
Well, until now.
He follows my update with his own work update – a story about his boss being tricky about him taking shared parental leave – and I listen supportively as I eat my pizza.
We finish the meal and walk back to the tube together, Nick talking about the flowers he’s going to pick up for Priya. I nod, adding “mmhm” where needed, but my brain has gone back to thinking about Emmy and what I’ve got planned for her.
By the time we part ways, he claps me on the back and pulls me into a one-armed hug. “Thanks for listening, mate. You’re a good friend.”
“Anytime,” I reply, with a smile I hope is convincing.
I watch him disappear down the escalator and then pull out my phone to send Emmy a message.
Still thinking about that list? Because I’ve got an idea for what we could try next…
I stare at the screen, thumb hovering, before I hit send.
Nick trusts me with everything. And I’m about to take his sister to a darker place than he can even imagine.
I shove my phone in my pocket and head for the club.
I’ll deal with the guilt later. For now, I want her.