34. Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Four
Caiden
“ W hat do you want for Christmas?” Jamie asks as we walk side by side along a stone path at Kew Gardens, a five hundred acre botanic garden in southwest London. It’s a bright day, with blue skies despite it being the end of November.
I take a sip of my hot chocolate, holding it between two hands to try and warm them up. I've already told him I don't want to do anything for my birthday this year but I hadn't considered Christmas yet.
“Are we giving each other gifts?” I’ve never dated anyone for long enough to even consider giving them a gift so I’m a little thrown by the idea. I picture the bracelet on my arm and remember the feelings it stirred up when he gave it to me all those years ago.
“Of course we are! But if you don’t give me an idea of what you want, I’m going rogue.” He bumps his shoulder against mine and I drop one hand from my cup, reaching out to take his. His cold hand slots into mine perfectly and I give it a squeeze.
“Surprise me,” I say, and then add, “What about you?”
He thinks about it briefly, stopping to look at the small waterfall cascading down a tiered rock garden. A cold breeze blows over us and I shiver inside my parka.
“I don’t know. There’s nothing I really want.”
“Then, I guess I’m going rogue too,” I reply, my mind racing over the possibilities of what I could get him. From something sexy like a butt plug, to something sentimental like a canvas print of the two of us. I shake my head when I realise I’m preoccupied with the thought when there’s still weeks to decide.
“I was thinking we could get our parents a spa voucher or something along those lines, rather than something they don’t need.”
I’m glad Jamie’s on the ball where Christmas is concerned, because I’m seriously lacking. It was always Cooper who organised gifts for our family and he and I only ever exchanged an under ￡10 joke gift every year, which never failed to make me laugh.
“I like that idea.” I let go of his hand to hide mine in my pocket, really wishing I’d brought gloves.
He turns to face me. “Your nose is cold,” he says before warming it with a kiss. “And you have very rosy cheeks.” He kisses them too. “Ready to go somewhere warmer?”
Nodding, I take his hand again and we stroll through the gardens, stopping now and then to read a sign or look at a display before exiting onto Kew Bridge. The sky is darkening, and a quick look at my phone shows that it’s almost four by the time we reach the train station. There’s also a message from Darius waiting for me.
Darius: Some friends and I are going to a pub quiz this evening. You keen?
I check with Jamie who very enthusiastically says yes, and then we hop on a train back to Kingston, stopping at home to feed Ford and then to grab a pizza before meeting Darius and his friends.
When we arrive, Darius spots us and immediately comes over and pulls me into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here, babe. There’s a ￡250 prize for the winning table so hope you brought your A-game.” I cough back a laugh at my ridiculous friend who's wearing a shirt that probably costs three times the prize money he’s intent on winning.
“Do you mind if I talk to you for a minute?” he suddenly says, looking over my shoulder, the smile he was wearing disappearing from his face.
I look at Jamie and then back at Darius. “I’ll grab us some drinks,” Jamie offers and Darius and I head outside where it’s dark, clouds obscuring the stars and moon.
“I’ve invited someone else tonight and I really don’t want you to be mad at me.”
“O-kay.” I draw out the word while trying to work out who he could possibly be referring to.
“The guy’s lonely and I know you have a history so it may be awkward. And I think I’ve possibly broken some bro-code, which I’m sorry about, and now I actually feel like a really shit friend and maybe this was a bad idea and…”
“D,” I say, interrupting his rambling. “You need to tell me who this guy is.”
He bites his lip and looks down at his black leather loafers. “Oliver.”
Everything in me stills and I wait for him to say he’s joking but when he looks back up, I see the conflict in his eyes.
“Oliver? How do you even know him?” Darius knew about our ‘arrangement’ but I never introduced them. I always kept my past and my present separate - until Jamie.
“Remember when you went to Devon a few months back? He showed up at your place when I was there feeding the cat. He was genuinely upset that you broke things off with him.”
My mind reels with this information, and I rub the back of my neck and turn away from my best friend.
“Nothing’s happened between us, if you’re wondering,” he says to my back. “We hang out sometimes and we talk. He’s a nice guy.”
Something akin to jealousy ripples in my chest and I clench my hands into fists, then release them before repeating the action. It’s not about Oliver, though. I never had romantic feelings for him, nor have I ever felt possessive of him in any way, but Darius is my best friend and he’s kept this from me for months.
Turning to face him again, I say, “Why didn’t you tell me when I got back? Why keep this from me?”
“Because I knew how you’d react. You’d tell me he was bad news and that I should stay away from him. And if you were to have told me that because you’d had feelings for the guy, I’d have backed off. But you told me so often that you didn’t.”
“He is bad news,” I retort. But when I try to think up all the reasons why, I only see myself in them and realise all too quickly that Oliver and I are not so unalike.
“I get that the relationship you had with him wasn’t the best. Maybe even a little toxic. But that’s not how things are with us. He’s sweet, and kind, and okay yes, he’s arrogant, and opinionated, and grumpy as fuck, but he’s also lonely and….”
“And you like him,” I interrupt as it dawns on me that the softness in his voice now is tinted with fondness.
“I like him. But you’re my best mate, and if you don’t want me to pursue anything with him, I won’t.” My knee jerk reaction is to tell him to cut the guy off, to forget all about him, but then I realise what a hypocrite that would make me. Why can’t Darius be with the guy I had a fling with if it makes him happy? I’m in love with my dead twin’s ex-boyfriend, I’m hardly in a position to judge.
“I don’t like it, but I’m not standing in your way. Jamie will absolutely hate that he’s coming tonight but, I’ll let you handle that.” I fling an arm over Darius’s shoulder and ruffle his hair with my free hand.
He responds by poking me in the mouth with the tip of his finger. “Did you know you get a goofy grin whenever you mention Jamie?” I snort. “I do not. I’m smiling at you.”
“Sure, whatever you say, lover boy.”
“One question left for the night and then we’ll tally up and see which table is the winner,” the quizmaster says from his spot at the front of the pub. This last one is a music question and is for ten points.”
Darius looks at Jamie and pushes the answer card and pencil towards him. “Music is your specialty, don’t let us down.”
“No pressure,” I say, leaning in and placing my hand on his knee.
“Pencils ready. For ten points, Rockstar David Howell Evans is better known by what name? And, for a bonus ten points, what band is he from?”
There’s murmuring throughout the pub, and at our table, the other two people in our team along with Oliver and Darius all stare at Jamie questioningly.
Jamie’s wearing that smug look of his that I want to kiss off his face as he writes down the answer.
“Who is it?” Darius asks in a whisper. So as not to give the answer to any eavesdropping participants, Jamie turns the paper to show us the answer which says, ‘The Edge, U2’. When Oliver pipes up that he doesn’t even know who that band is, my boyfriend shoots him a lethal look, not for the first time since he walked into the pub.
It’s surreal sitting here with him, Darius and Jamie and in a small way, I can see what Darius means. Oliver is gentle and soft spoken with him, totally different to the man I’ve known since high school. I’d use the word smitten if it didn’t sound so obscene for a guy who has never shown me an affectionate side in all the years we were hooking up.
We swap answer sheets with the table next to us, so no one can cheat, and then the quizmaster reads out the answers, and not surprisingly because we knew only one answer in the politics round, we don’t win.
“Ah fuck. Better luck next time, I guess,” Oliver says, tapping his credit card on the table. “Commiseration round on me!” There’s laughter at the table and as the music in the pub is turned back up now that the quiz is over, I adjust myself in my chair so I’m able to lean back enough for Jamie to wrap his arm around my waist, putting us into our favourite position. His lips find the sensitive spot under my ear and everything feels right.
“Is it wrong that I still really want to punch Oliver in the jaw for ever having touched you?” I twist my head to look back at Jamie.
“You’re jealous,” I state matter of factly. “You don’t need to be. He’s in the past.”
“I know. Still, I hate knowing he’s had his hands on you.” Jamie slides a hand down until it’s toying with the waistband of my jeans.
“So have you,” I say, my dick thickening behind the confines of my skinny jeans, pressing against the zipper because I made the choice to go commando.
“Not enough though,” Jamie replies, the tips of his fingers inching below the waistband. I place my hand on top of his to stop him going any lower.
“How about we go home and change that?”