Page 8

T oday had been awful, and not just because nothing had gone my way at work. I’d had a long rant of texts from Juliet, words I really didn’t want to hear. She’d apparently been to see Jake, and I had no idea what that would mean for me. Could I still come back and sleep on his sofa tonight, or had she said a load of things that would make Jake resent me and, even worse, throw me out? I didn’t trust that he wanted me there, not at all.

I wasn’t a good person. Nothing about me was good. Not even the phone call to my mum calmed my nerves, even though she kept saying I was all right and that things would calm down.

Not that I’d told her anything of substance. No wedding. All called off for some vague lie of a reason I couldn’t really pull off. I could tell she didn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth, and my dad just walked off whenever the subject came up. She did express some kind of joy at me staying with Jake, though, and promised to call again tomorrow to check up on me. I shuddered at the thought.

I didn’t need check-ups. I needed my brain to stop spinning in my skull. I needed a plan. I needed peace. I had no idea what I needed, apart from…

Shit.

I wanted to lock myself in the loos and cry. I was tempted to just check into a hotel, sit there in silence and stew in this brew I’d created, get swallowed up in the city sounds from outside, silence on the inside.

But I knew something like that would just feed my anxiety and make things unbearable in the end. Which is why I gingerly took my wanky car and drove back to Jake’s place, left it in the parking space he’d pointed out to me. The one that housed his imaginary car.

It was an old joke. Jake had never owned a car. I’d always driven him if he needed to go somewhere or simply lent him my car, one of the few things I could do to be a good friend. He’d always said I didn’t need to try so hard, that he was more than happy just seeing me, but I’d always felt inadequate to his kindness. His over-the-top birthday presents. The way he always rang me, not to check up on me, no, just to tell me something funny. I’d been a shitty friend back.

Well, who was I kidding? He checked up on me too. Took my blood readings and fed me. Always had something in his jacket pocket to sort me out when I forgot to eat. Took me for a drink when I needed one. Loved all my girlfriends, fiercely and protectively .

While I just lived my life and did nothing of substance.

The thoughts whirling around my head made me emotional, because I’d once again pulled him into my mess, and I wasn’t even trying to deny that I was grateful he was taking those bullets for me, without complaining. Like entertaining Juliet. Like…

Like he’d fucked me a second time, given me everything, with no questions asked, taken me out of that dark space, just for a few minutes, then held me as I rode the afterglow. It was the one time in my life I felt right, when my body sang to the correct hymn sheet. When I didn’t feel so bloody wrong.

Today, I was wrong, like I’d been turned inside out in the wash and couldn’t get my limbs back on straight. Nothing fitted, and my tie was strangling me. I ripped it off when I got out of the car, punched the code for the door and waited for the lift, rocking on my heels, grimacing at my teeth gnashing.

My shoulders ached as I finally put the key in the door and entered the familiar space where Flossie came whirring around my feet, yapping excitedly as I picked her up and gave her all the attention, scratches and belly rubs and silly little words that meant nothing, but she loved it. Her frantic tail wagging made me smile as she stuck her little tongue up my nose. Disgusting , Juliet would have said, but she was only a young dog, no longer officially a puppy, but…well. I hadn’t been the best at house training her. She still occasionally left puddles and pooped where she shouldn’t, but she was mine.

I sighed and set her down again, impatient to get my clothes off and in the shower. I liked the routine I’d created here. I needed a certain degree of stability in the way I lived, and more than anything right now, I needed to rest. Sleep. Make the world go dark around me so I could get up tomorrow and actually live.

Live. Gah.

I showered and shoved food into my mouth, straight out of the fridge. Drank a pot of yoghurt like an idiot, scraping the sides with my finger. I couldn’t be bothered with a spoon. Then I took my meds and dosed up and tested my bloods, and then I just stood there, staring at the sofa.

I was bloody exhausted .

I turned and looked towards the room at the back, where the curtains were drawn and darkness prevailed. I shivered in my underpants and thin T-shirt, despite the summer weather outside. All I wanted was…

I should sleep on the sofa. Keep the boundary lines clear.

But there was a nice duvet and a soft bed and more pillows than were strictly necessary in that bedroom at the back, and I wasn’t proud of myself as I toddled towards the bed, grabbing my phone in the process. I knew where his charger leads were. I also knew when he’d come back. Maybe I should set an alarm so I could vacate the bed for him. Less questions to answer.

Or maybe I would just set my alarm as normal and hope he would crawl in here and hold me. He had the other evening. Held me and shushed me, and the memories made me want to cry. I wanted. Needed.

The duvet smelled of him. I curled it around me, letting the chill from the fabric fade into my bones. Warmth. Softness. It felt better than it should have, and the next thing I knew, my alarm went off .

I wasn’t proud of the way I flew out of bed. Nor was I under any illusion that it was sane to stand there and stare at him the way I did, his naked chest rising and falling next to the hollow shape in the sheet where I had lain. He was there, and I wanted to scream in frustration, yet I didn’t. I let my breathing calm down, my thoughts slowly piecing themselves together until my feet would move and I figured out how to dress myself.

Flossie. Gym. Work. The car seemed to drive itself, parking perfectly in my designated office parking space, and then as always, I took the lift upstairs. My floor was calm and deserted this early in the morning, but someone had already made coffee in the small kitchenette, and I gratefully poured myself a cup, sipping it as I ambled towards my office, having grabbed my pile of paperwork from reception on the way.

Here, I knew what I was doing. My multi-screen set-up, my phones, the keyboard and mouse. The drawing pad where I took my notes. My arse in its place on the seat, my hand loosening my tie to a comfortable position around my neck. One button undone .

Just the way I liked it.

“Bash.”

I hadn’t even heard her walking down the corridor, nor noticed the door opening, but here was Juliet in a tracksuit and trainers—no heels yet; far too early for that—hair slicked back, no make-up. Stunning, as always.

“You’re early,” I muttered in surprise.

“Wanted to catch you and have a word.”

Professional. Curt. She sat in my visitor’s chair.

“Juliet,” I said, hoping I could find answers, good ones, to yesterday’s many texts. Excuses. Apologies. Something. Anything.

“Bash, this is work. Let’s keep it to work. I am still too bloody cut and exhausted by everything to even contemplate talking to you about anything else.”

“Apart from in texts.”

“I need to rant. Deal with it.”

“Fine.” Relief, actually.

“I need you at the Graham Bloom meeting.”

“It’s all prepared and in your files. Submitted it last night. ”

“I know, and I’m grateful. But you need to be there. We need a firm stance, and they like you.”

“It’s got nothing to do with liking me. They’re bullshitters and need putting in their place.”

“Which you do. They look at me like I should be sweeping the floor and bringing them tea.”

I smiled. She did too. It felt nice, like we were somehow back on even ground.

“Doesn’t mean things are fine, Bash. Just do the work. For now, that’s all I ask.”

“I transferred you the money,” I said quietly. “I need to know if it’s enough.”

“It’s all the costs split in half. I don’t want to have to think about it.”

“I should—”

“No.”

Okay. I knew when to back down.

“Don’t ever think I didn’t love you. I still do. Always will,” I said. I meant every word. Juliet had been my world, and there was nobody at fault here more than me .

“Don’t say that.” Her voice was low, but she was looking at me, and there was no anger there. Just hurt. All the hurt. I knew it well, because I carried it too.

“Bash.” She shuffled in my visitor’s chair. Then stood up, took a step and turned around and sat down again. “I don’t like it, and I am so bloody angry. At the same time, I’m relieved beyond belief. Do you see what I mean? I’m relieved that I don’t have to do this anymore. That I don’t have to live my life in constant fear of not being able to be what you need. That I don’t have to cry every month when I bleed because I know how distraught you will be. That we can just walk away. That’s what I’m clinging to now. That I can walk away and you’ll let me. Do you see what I mean?”

I did. And I nodded.

“Then let’s just work for now and try to figure out how to let go. Because right now, that’s the only thing I have enough strength to do.”

She was right, and it wasn’t until she shut the door behind her that I finally breathed out.

Highly strung was just the tip of what I was right now, but I knew how to suppress it and appear as if I had everything under control. Because I did. I was on top of things and in control, and my intern was proving to be more than capable of bringing me nutrition and caffeine and siphoning my calls and emails into necessities instead of wasting my time. I was rather impressed.

I worked, sat in meetings, pulled deals, and then I went back to Jake’s, again finding the bed in the dark irresistible as Flossie took up residence in my arms. I slept, better than I had for days, and the shrill ring of the alarm going off felt like a heart attack in progress, yanking me out of peace into what felt like pure chaos.

And then there was a firm grip on my arm.

“Bastien. It’s Saturday.”

Was it? And why? I sat on the edge of the bed, frozen in place.

“Do you have plans? Or will you stay with me today?”

Too many questions. Both required answers that I hadn’t yet figured out. Did I? Would I?

“Gym. Walk Flossie,” I started, but I swallowed my words as he crawled up to a sitting position behind me. “Should go into the office and get some paperwork filed,” I huffed out in a panic.

“Should is one thing. But there are other things that need seeing to.”

I don’t know why I read that as a promise, or why my dick jumped and my cheeks flamed.

“Jake,” I said. Then I went quiet again, because what the fuck, Bash? This? Uncomfortable and weird.

He shuffled behind me, and I found myself sitting in his embrace, his arms around my front as his chest cradled my back, one leg then the other finding its way down next to mine so I was now on his lap, being held.

“You’re safe with me, you know that right?” he said softly, giving me a little squeeze.

I nodded. Because of course I was. I just didn’t feel it. Not right now.

Then he did something weird. Leaning over, he opened the drawer in his bedside table and took out a pair of short, black leather gloves.

I’d never seen them before.

“I want to ask you a few very simple questions,” he started, putting the gloves neatly on the table. “Yes or no answers are good enough. Do you think you can manage that?”

I wondered if he’d completely lost his marbles. The thoughts that popped up in my brain were weird. I shook my head. Selective mutism, my arse. I’d always been like this. If I didn’t have an answer, I didn’t speak. Sometimes I didn’t even know how to.

“You can even nod. I don’t mind. They’re simple questions. Okay? First one. How are you feeling right now?”

“What’s with the gloves?”

“I asked a question. One that requires an answer.”

I said nothing. Typical Jake. Demanding words he knew I wouldn’t give. But he tightened his hold on me, pulling me close, his mouth now on my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I liked that. Weirdly.

“You’re completely safe, and you’re in control here. I’m only here to help you, because I think there are things you need. I’ll give them to you, if you let me. But I need to know that you’re okay with what I’m thinking.”

“I don’t know what crap Juliet’s been telling you…” I started, and then I stopped, once again muted by his ge ntle shushing, the way his hands were stroking my arms, across my chest. My skin prickled with chills, yet my cheeks were flaming. I wanted to escape and run. At the same time, I couldn’t, because he was holding me, and somehow, he was right. I was panicking on the inside but felt…safe. He told me, and I believed him because he was Jake, but this whole thing…

“You don’t have to.” I had no idea where the words were coming from. “You’re not… Don’t need…”

“This has nothing to do with Juliet. This is you and me. Nothing else. And I’m going to look after you, if you let me.”

Easy and simple questions, he said. Bullshit.

“I don’t need shit.”

“Don’t be a brat, Bastien. You do need. And I think you’ve been doing things you shouldn’t have, when you should’ve just talked to me. You know this.”

He kept shushing my desperate breaths, calming me down with every stroke of my skin. Another soft kiss on my neck.

“Are you ready to answer my questions?”

My throat made a sound. It wasn’t me this time .

“Okay. Do you trust me? Just nod if you don’t want to speak. Or shake your head.”

“Yes. I’m not a baby.”

“And…” He swallowed, blowing out air over my neck. “I’m going to try to make you feel better. Take you out of your head for a bit. But you’ll have to trust me and let me know how far I can go.”

“How far? That’s rich from the guy who keeps randomly fucking me.” I didn’t mean that. It just came out, and the way my chest was heaving, I would either throw up or start to cry if he didn’t stop and let me go. I was suddenly on a knife’s edge, and I truly didn’t know how to deal. Not with him, not right now.

“Okay. Let’s change this around then.”

Fuck him. Oh God, fuck him to kingdom come, because he flipped me over on his lap, and now I was face down on the bed with my legs barely against the floor, and my hands were grappling with the sheets as he made himself comfortable. His hands on my hips, then stroking my back. More shushing.

“Bastien, I’m not going to fuck you,” he said softly. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do. Remember? You’re in charge here. So this is what is going to happen. I’ll ask the questions, and if you don’t feel like answering, I’m going to…”

He stopped, clearly rattled by something. His hands no longer on my body, all I could hear behind me was his breaths. Deep. Hard.

Almost as hard as mine. The panic on my inside was now clearly on the outside, and I was shivering, breathing far too fast, scrambling to get off the bed. I needed to leave. Now.

Yet I didn’t.

I could feel my blood pumping, the noise in my ears so loud. Everything was too loud despite the room being completely silent. Just him staring at his hands. Me, standing rigid right there in front of him. Our breaths.

It felt like hours, and when he finally got himself together enough to look at me, I was so frazzled I didn’t know how to react.

Jake, my Jake, sat on the bed with tears running down his cheeks. Why the fuck was he crying?

I never got the answer to that question, because he reached out for my hands, dragged me back down onto the bed and opened his arms to me as I crawled into them. Shook as he held me, the sobs tearing through him shattering the silence.

I let him cry, gently stroking his back.

This was on me. Everything was.