Page 161 of Pretty Mess

“Are you talking to yourself?”

Startled, I turn to see Mac standing behind me. He’s barefoot and dressed in just his pyjama shorts, his hair wild and his face quizzical. I brighten when I realise he’s holding two travel mugs with a blanket tucked under his arm.

I grin up at him. “I get more sense out of me than you.”

His face lightens at my snark. “Only someone drinking heavily couldpossiblyagree with that statement.” He settles down behind me, sitting in the sand and drawing me back between his legs. I rest my hands on them, feeling the coarse hair as he sets my cup in front of me. “Tea.”

“Tea. You’re a lifesaver.”

“If only Tetley knew that they could put their prices up.”

He pulls the blanket around us, and I settle back into his arms, feeling the warmth and comfort I’ve always had there.

“You were thinking hard,” he finally says, taking a sip of his coffee. “Who were you saying fuck it to? I hope it wasn’t me, or you’ll be walking home.”

I hesitate and then put my cup down and turn in his arms, coming up on my knees and placing my hands on his shoulders. His skin is like rough silk beneath my fingers. “Brandon,” I say, holding my breath. “I was telling him that he can’t have you.”

He blinks, a look of complete stupefaction on his face. “Who?”

I tip my head, unsure about his surprise. “Brandon,” I say hesitantly. “The man you kept before me.”

He shifts his weight, and his gaze flicks from the surf to me. “Wes…”

“No, listen. I have to say this before I lose my nerve. I’m unsure what’s happening between us, but I like it. Ireallylike it.” His eyes flare like he’s about to say something, but I carry on talking. “Did you have deep feelings for him? He said you came to the club for him.”

He blinks. “He saidwhat?”

“Yes. He said you’d been together for a year.”

“Together? Wes?—”

“I was hurt because I thoughtIwas your first arrangement, and then I found out I wasn’t, and you’d taken him to Paris too. It was all too much, and those feelings got jumbled up with the assault in my head and so I left. Justpleasegive me another chance.”

His whole face softens, and his eyes blaze. “Wes,” he says. “Do you really want to make something with me?”

“What about Brandon?”

“What about him?”

“I saw how you looked at him in the club that night. There was obviously a deep connection between the two of you.”

His face twists as if in pain. “Ihatethinking about that night,” he says passionately. “I hate that you were hurt because of me.”

“Mac, I?—”

“Please let me say this. You’ve got completely the wrong end of the stick.”

“How?”

He takes a breath, and his face is grave. “I can’t tell you much because the end of my arrangement with Brandon is very personal, and it’s his secret.” I note the use of the word arrangement, and my heart lightens. “I can tell you that I didn’t take him to Paris. He turned up uninvited and it was a complete surprise.” And not a welcome one judging by his expression. “We were never together. I slept with him and then I left. I never lay in bed and had conversations with him about nothing and everything. He didn’t make me laugh and want to stay. I nevereverfelt with him what I do with you.” I gape at him, and he shifts awkwardly. “He’s a very nice man but he wasn’t for me, and if you saw feelings there that night, it was only guilt on my part for not…”

“He fell for you,” I realise as he struggles for words. “And you didn’t reciprocate?”

“No, and that’s my fault.”

“You can’t help not loving someone back. It’s a sort of voluntary thing.”

“Well, regardless, I shouldn’t have entered the arrangement with him.”