Page 27

My heart gives a throb of pain for him and I find myself on the edge of tears again. ‘Oh, Jem, I’m so sorry. It sounds like you’ve been through absolute hell.’

‘They weren’t the best few years of my life, no.’

‘But at least you met Bea,’ I say through a lump in my throat.

‘Yeah. That was a real turning point. She’s been a really good friend.’

There’s a slightly awkward pause where unsaid words float in the air between us.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more envious of my sister. It must feel incredible to be so well respected by your friends and colleagues.

I know I’m a lot of fun to be around, but I’m intensely aware that I’m not the sort of person others would come to for help and support. I’m not a serious person. Not a grown-up. At least not in my dad’s eyes, and probably not in Jem’s either.

All he’s seen recently is me leaning heavily on Bea for help, which I guess must make me seem pretty immature.

And I just keep getting things wrong.

Time to change that now, I think. To pull focus.

I want everyone to see me getting on well with my life and be proud of me.

That’s all I’ve ever wanted, to be honest.

As soon as I get home, I’m going to start making plans that don’t involve other people getting me where I need to go.

But for now, I’m going to enjoy these last couple of days with Jem. Having fun, not feelings.

‘Hey. Can I sketch you?’ I ask, reaching for the notepad and pencil on the nightstand that the hotel has supplied.

He sits up. ‘Er, yeah, I guess. If you like.’

‘Great.’ I go to grab a bathrobe from the bathroom and when I come back, Jem is sitting up against the pillows. He’s put his clothes back on.

‘Hey. Why did you get dressed?’ I ask mock-crossly.

‘Oh. I thought you’d want me to.’

‘Nope. Strip, please. But just the t-shirt if you like. I don’t want you thinking I’m a perv.’

He snorts. ‘It’s a bit late for that.’

I suppress a grin. I’d like to be professional about this and do a good job here because I really want him to think I’m talented.

Not that his opinion should matter. Art is subjective, after all, as previously discussed.

But to get any kind of praise from Jem is…

I don’t know, kinda special. Hard won, I suppose. At least, that’s how it feels.

I watch with satisfaction as his t-shirt is removed again.

‘So how do you want me to sit?’ he asks, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable.

‘However you like.’

He shuffles around a bit, rearranges the pillows behind him, then reclines back against them, finally giving me a nod, as if he’s happy.

‘Comfy?’ I ask.

‘Hmm. As I’m going to get. This is a bit weird.’ He screws up his nose. ‘I’ve never had anyone draw me before.’

‘Another first I get to be in on,’ I say, trying not to think again about the major one I’d love to experience with him.

I clear my throat of the tightness that’s forming there and get to work, focusing all my attention on the lines I’m sketching onto the paper, occasionally glancing up at him to check his form.

After spending all this time with him, I actually have it pretty firmly fixed in my head now and could probably draw him from memory if I needed to.

I’m glad I get to do this with him here in front of me, though.

It’ll be lovely to have a record of this time we’ve spent together. So I can look at it later and remind myself I didn’t dream it all.

He sits there patiently as I work, except every now and again, he wriggles his nose or stretches his jaw, as if being this still is hard work for him and perhaps a little tedious.

Maybe a bit of chat would help?

‘So, if you’ve been pretty self-sufficient for a while now, does that mean you can cook?’ I ask him.

‘Yeah, I can cook. I’m pretty good, actually.’

‘And you can clean.’

‘Yes, Dee. I know how to clean.’

I grin at him. ‘And fix things.’

‘Yup. I’m pretty handy.’

‘Oh, my God. That’s really hot. I think you might be my dream man.’

‘Maybe you should learn to do all those things for yourself and be your own dream person.’

‘I can do all those things. I had to learn when I was living in the commune with my mum. Self-sufficiency was king there, I’ll have you know.

’ I look up at him and catch the amusement on his face.

I hold up a reluctant hand. ‘Okay, I admit I’ve never been an amazing cook, but I’m getting better the more I practise, which I’m doing quite a bit now I’m living on my own in my flat. ’

‘Huh.’

‘You seem surprised that I’m domesticated, Jem,’ I say in a mock-arch tone.

‘No. I?—’

‘You know, I think you think of me as some kind of wild animal,’ I tease, enjoying the ashamed expression on his face.

‘I didn’t mean to suggest that.’

‘Sure you didn’t.’

‘Seriously. I’m sorry if I gave that impression. It wasn’t cool of me.’

‘Well, luckily you’re cool in all the other ways, otherwise I’d have to never speak to you ever again .’

The corner of his mouth lifts at that.

‘No smiling! You’ll ruin the picture,’ I say. ‘This is supposed to be a serious work of art I’m creating here.’

‘Yes, maestro,’ he says, still fighting his smile.

My heart flips.

Making Jem laugh has to be one of the best achievements of my life.

We’re quiet for a few minutes while I start to shade in the picture.

‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ Jem says, making me jump a little.

I tut as the pencil skids outside the line of the drawing.

‘Take what the wrong way?’ I ask warily.

‘If you really want to be a professional artist, you’re going to have to properly commit to it. I don’t want to be harsh, but just hanging your paintings in the hotel probably isn’t going to cut it, unless you get really lucky.’

I nod, but don’t say anything.

‘At the risk of sounding dickish like your dad,’ he goes on, ‘you need to put yourself out there and make it happen. Work your arse off. Network and push and push and push. Get knocked down, then get back up again. Grow a really thick skin. Sorry to be brutal about it, but you can’t just sit back and wait for success to happen to you.

Unless you’re willing to put yourself out there – put yourself on the line – it’s not likely to happen.

You’ll get comfy and end up working at the hotel indefinitely.

Which is great, if you think you’d be happy doing that. But if not…’

His words sink in hard. He’s not wrong. I know that.

I nod. ‘Like you and Bea are doing? Throwing everything at it?’

‘Yeah, I guess so. It’s a risk. The business might fail.

It’s statistically likely to. But I figured, if I don’t do it now and just get a job working for someone else, I might get sucked into it and tied down, financially and practically, so I may as well shoot for it while I have the opportunity.

At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself.

It has to work out soon though or I’m not going to be able to afford Mum’s care needs once her savings run out. ’

I swallow and nod, not able to look at him in case he sees the tears that are rimming my eyes.

He’s such a cool guy. I desperately want things to work out for him. He so deserves them to.

‘Well, with you and Bea being so focused and determined to make it happen, you’re bound to be successful,’ I say, forcing a jollity into my voice I don’t feel.

There’s that sensation of envy bubbling up from my stomach again that I don’t want to acknowledge. It’s dark and mean and I absolutely don’t want to give in to it.

No. No . I’m not going to let it ruin my last night alone with him.

With a huge effort of will, I push the feeling down hard and keep working on the sketch for a few more minutes until I’m satisfied it’s as good as it’s going to get.

I’m actually pretty pleased with how it’s turned out.

It’s captured the essence of him, I think.

His astuteness and his kindness too. It’s all there in the expression on his face.

‘Can I see it?’ Jem asks, clocking that I’ve stopped moving the pencil now.

My heart gives a little stutter. ‘Sure,’ I say, fighting down my nerves. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t love it. Plenty of people don’t love a picture that’s been drawn of them for all sorts of reasons.

But from the expression on Jem’s face when I hand the pad over to him, he does love it.

‘Wow, Dee. This is amazing. It looks just like me.’

When he looks up at me, I have the widest smile on my face.

I’m elated by his praise.

He smiles back, his eyes twinkling. His pleasure shining through them.

Oh, my goodness. My whole body feels shivery with delight.

I see now why Bea thinks of him as such a good guy. When you find your way into his circle of care and attention, he’s the biggest sweetheart ever.

Not that I’m expecting that to be his MO with me from now on.

I’m guessing that as soon as we’re back in Bath and there are other people around – namely Bea – for him to talk to, I’ll slide right back down the scale of his favourite people to hang out with. Which is crappy because I’m going to miss his company.

So much.

The thought of never been able to kiss him, or be close to him again, makes my chest ache and I’m aware of a burning pressure behind my eyes and in my throat again.

Even though I Brownie promised I wouldn’t get upset about us calling a halt to this fling, I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to keep it.

Maybe if Jem sees me getting my shit together, he’ll be more interested in being friends. Or more.

Maybe.

But I’m not going to worry about all that right now. I have more fun things to concern myself with.

Reaching to take the notepad out of his hand, I drop it onto the nightstand, then say, ‘Right. Now I’ve done that, you can take the rest of your kit off.’

He looks amused. ‘And do what?’

‘You’ll see.’

I smile as I watch him strip quickly, his muscles bunching in such a beautiful way under his skin, it sends a rush of desire straight between my thighs.

Crawling over to him, I take the base of his already hard cock in my hand and slowly lower my mouth to it, letting my hot breath fan over him before giving the head a firm lick. I smile as I hear him draw in a shuddery breath of satisfaction.

I intend to play with him for a while and make him wait for his orgasm, though. I love nothing more than to tease him, after all.

And I love being naughty with him.

Brown Owl would be horrified.