30. Cassidy
Chapter thirty
Cassidy
I groan as I open my eyes and the room whirls around. I want nothing more than to curl back under the covers, hoping that I’ll feel better after more sleep. I tentatively move my head to look at my alarm clock and see that it’s close to midday.
I got to bed around 4 am from what I can remember. But it had taken a while to fall asleep. I shift my hand across the bed to feel beside me. My hand encounters warm, firm flesh. A hairy male thigh. That’s good. He’s here too. I don’t remember much from the night before. It’s not like me to drink like that. But I’d been talked into shots and it had all gone downhill from there.
I let my eyes flutter close and snuggle down further, eager to get more rest. But then I hear it. Banging. Ah, that must have been what woke me the first time. Damn it. I’ll just lay here and it will go away, I’m sure of it . But whoever it is, is impatient. The banging sound comes again. I groan. I try to sit up, but it’s hard. Everything feels too bright and my head is pounding. But I have to do something to stop the noise. I’m going to have to suck it up and get out of this bed and shout at whoever it is to fuck off. Who could it even be? It better not be fucking Grant. I’m not in the mood for him today.
I manage to move to the edge of the bed and pull on some pyjamas I find lying around. It feels like slow progress and I wonder why the person hasn’t given up and gone away yet. But I can still hear something going on. I push up from the bed and pause for a second to get my bearings. I take a longing glance back to the man laying there, asleep and not inconvenienced by the banging. How is he sleeping through this?
I shuffle out of my bedroom to the front door. There’s no banging now and I’m grateful, as I’m not convinced my head would be able to take it as I move closer to the source of the noise. I look through the spy hole and see nothing. For fuck’s sake! I made all this effort to get to the door and now they’ve sodding gone. I decide to open up in case it was an overzealous delivery person and there’s some kind of package waiting outside that will make all this discomfort worth it. But I’m disappointed when I swing the door wide and there’s nothing to be found.
I sigh and start to close the door when I hear footsteps and then “Cass?”
No. It can’t be. I must still be drunk from last night. That sounds like… and then he’s there, standing in front of me, looking flustered as hell. His hair is pointing in every direction possible. He looks shattered, with dark circles under his eyes.
“Jack.” I try to say it clearly, but it comes out as a pitiful whisper. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you okay? Is Tom okay? I couldn’t get hold of either of you. What’s happening?”
I’m so confused. I’m staring at him, still trying to make sense of Jack standing here in front of me when he’s supposed to be over three thousand miles away on the other side of the Atlantic.
“I don’t understand.” I frown with confusion. “How are you here?” He takes a step closer and opens up his arms. I worry that a hug will hurt my head, and everything else that’s wrecked in my very hungover body, but as his arms close around my back and gather me closer, it feels wonderful.
Fuck, I missed him. So damn much.
Tears spring to my eyes. It’s so good to have him here, even if I don’t have a clue what’s going on.
“Doll, where’s Tom? Is he okay? I’ve been so worried.”
“He’s here, possibly in the same state as me, but he didn’t wake up, so I don’t know.” Jack has eased back to watch my face as I try to explain, even though I’m baffled.
“He won’t wake up? Why isn’t he in the hospital? What happened?”
“I don’t think there’s much a hospital can do for a hangover, Jack. We clearly brought it on ourselves,” I say with an eye roll.
He lets out a huge sigh. “May I come in?”
“Of course.” I take a step back, already missing his hug.
“Can I check on him? I just need to see with my own eyes that you’re both okay.”
“Sure.” I gesture to the bedroom door and watch as he strides over. I shuffle behind him, trying not to move too suddenly. I get to the doorway as Jack approaches the bed, towards Tom, who still seems to be dead to the world.
Seriously, how is he missing this? Maybe I’m dreaming. That would explain a lot. That’s it. It must be an alcohol-induced dream because I’ve been pining for Jack, and I really wanted to share my news with him, but the stupid call got cut off.
Jack crouches beside the bed and places a hand on Tom’s forehead. Tom gives a sigh in his sleep and it makes my heart swell with love. He’s been missing Jack hard. We’ve tried our best to keep each other going, but it’s been tough. Like a vital part of us was missing.
Jack brings his lips to Tom’s, who gives a low moan, deep in the back of his throat and one of his hands comes up to Jack’s face. His confusion is apparent when he pieces together that it’s not me kissing him. He pushes Jack away and then springs up, faster than I’ve ever seen him move when waking up. He’s up on his feet, looking down at Jack in astonishment.
“What the fuck?” he asks in his gravelly deep morning voice.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help kissing you,” Jack says. He hasn’t moved, still crouched beside the bed. My heart tightens as I watch the two men. Tom’s chest expands as he takes in a deep breath. His eyes haven't left Jack since they opened.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in New York.”
Jack closes his eyes. His hand comes up to grip the back of his neck.
“I panicked,” he tells us both, looking first at me, then up to Tom. “I could barely hear Cass on the phone. Neither of you were answering calls or texts for hours. I even tried calling the bar, but there was no answer. I had to do something. When I still hadn’t heard anything by the time I finished work, I headed to the airport. I bought a ticket, took the overnight flight, and here I am.”
My mouth is agape. This man flew across the Atlantic to check we were okay.
“We’re fine, Jack, just hungover. I’m so sorry we didn’t respond to your calls and messages. To be perfectly honest, I don’t even know where my phone is right now,” I say to him. Tom grimaces.
“Mac, do you not remember? When your call with Jack got cut off, you put it down on the bar a little too forcibly and the screen cracked.”
“Shit. I do remember. Where did I put it?”
“I think it must be in your bag. We couldn’t get it to turn back on. You said you’d worry about it today.”
“What about you?” Jack says to Tom. He pushes himself up. “Why didn’t you answer?” It doesn’t sound accusing in any way, but there’s something there in his voice. He sounds pained.
“Work was slammed all night. Between that and Cassidy’s celebrations, I didn’t even glance at it. And then after closing, we had a lock in…” he tells Jack.
“You’re hungover?” Jack asks him with a frown. “You don’t normally drink that much.”
“I know. The girls were very persuasive. We were celebrating, after all.” He sends a grin my way. I bounce on my feet and groan when I instantly regret the enthusiastic move.
“Jack, my book…” I grin, realising he doesn’t know my news. “That’s why I was calling. The advanced reader reviews have been amazing. My friend Mel—she’s an events organiser—put me in touch with an exclusive sex club in the city. They’re having a massive party with goody bags and they want to pre-order hundreds of copies of my book.”
“Oh wow, Cass. That’s amazing. I’m so pleased for you.” Jack beams. He pulls me in for another hug and I go willingly. Tom is no slouch with cuddles at all, but I’ve missed Jack and his unique brand of hugging so much.
“Guys, I feel stupid,” Jack says into my hair as he hugs me tight. “I’m such a drama queen. I was convinced you were both in trouble.”
“Yeah, Jack, it was quite an extreme reaction to not hearing from us for a few hours,” Tom says. Jack draws back from the hug, his expression resigned.
“I’m glad you’re here though. I mean, I’m sorry for the circumstances, but I’ve missed you so damn much.”
“I’ve missed you too.” He looks deep into my eyes. “And you.” He turns to Tom next.
“How long are you here for?” I ask.
He shakes his head with a sigh. “I need to be back on Monday. I was in such a panic I didn’t even look at return flights. I guess I should get something booked ASAP.”
I can’t hold back the disappointment that floods my veins. At best, we have the rest of the day with him, but probably not much beyond that. After the shock of him being here, it feels too much for my broken, hungover self, and I collapse onto the bed.
“You okay, Cassidy?” Tom asks, his hand cupping my cheek as he ducks lower to check on me.
“Yeah,” I sniffle. What the fuck? Am I crying? “Just all a bit much, you know. Everything last night and now I feel really lousy, but we don’t have long with Jack before he leaves again. I don’t know why, but I just feel wobbly.”
Tom crouches at my feet and gives my knee a reassuring squeeze.
“It’s understandable, Mac. You’ve been working so hard. I’ve never seen you let your hair down like you did last night. Well, not with alcohol anyway.” He winks at me. “Just give yourself a moment to process. It’s okay.” He holds my hands and gives me a squeeze. He’s been like a rock to me since Jack left. After the initial hiccup, when we pulled away from each other, we came back together and have been supporting each other where we can.
“Do you know if my place is empty this weekend?” Jack asks.
“There was someone due to arrive yesterday and stay through to Monday. You can crash here if you want?” I offer.
He appears to be giving it some thought.
“Where’s your luggage?”
“I didn’t bring any,” he tells me. “I was in a hurry. Maybe I should grab a hotel. I don’t want to impose.” He looks undecided.
Tom checks the time. “You’re unlikely to get into a hotel for a couple of hours. Why don’t we look at return flights and then make a plan from there?”
Jack nods in agreement.
“Can we use your laptop to check flights, Cassidy?” Tom asks, and I nod.
The boys make their way out to the living room and I stay where I’m seated for a moment, trying to get my head around what this means. Tom and I have spent the last two months slowly trying to find a way forward with Jack being in New York. It has felt like a piece of me has been missing. And now he’s here. And I don’t know what to do about it. How I’m supposed to feel. He’s not even staying long. It’s like some kind of mirage. I don’t know how long I sit there letting the thoughts whirl around in my head, but when I get up and make my way through to the living room, I’m mad.
Both guys look up as I flounce into the living room. My gaze hits Jack and I curl my lip in a snarl. “We were doing okay. We were figuring it out. It felt like such a hole when you left. But we’ve been getting there, haven’t we?” A quick glance to Tom as I ask the question.
He nods, watching me warily.
“I don’t know if you know this, Jack, or if you were too caught up in your own stuff to see it, but we were fucking broken when you left. Two months! Two fucking months you’ve been gone and last night was the first time I felt whole again. And now you’re here. What does it mean? You’re not even staying.” I stamp my foot and realise I’m acting like a furious toddler having a tantrum. “I can’t do this,” I tell him in despair. There’s no holding back the tears now, rolling down my cheeks in fat blobs. I try to calm my breathing, but it only comes out in sobs.
Jack’s looking at me with his jaw dropped, unsure what to make of my meltdown. But I can’t let this go. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt to see him again. To have him hug me after weeks of craving him. And that’s no shade on Tom. Tom holds a piece of my heart too, but he’s been infinitely more gentle with it than Jack has. I watch as Tom elbows Jack, none too gently, trying to get him to move.
Jack looks between Tom and I, completely at a loss. Tom heaves a giant sigh as he lifts my laptop from his knees, placing it on the coffee table. He gets up to make his way over to me. He approaches carefully, the way you would a feral animal trapped in a wire fence.
“Come here, Mac,” he says with his gentlest voice. I’m pulled tight into his chest and it opens the floodgates even more. I sob, my wet tears soaking his bare chest.