Ky stares down at his plate but doesn’t respond.
I start to lose my shit. “What else did you fuckin’ say? We may as well get it all out right now.”
Ky lifts his head, guilt in his eyes. “Shit Bren, it was hard knowing what to say when he put me on the spot like that.” He drops his face into his hands. “I also told him I’ve always loved you and always will.”
“Fuck fuck fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “Give me a minute and don’t follow me.” I storm towards the front entrance, pulling my cigarettes from my pocket as I go. Once outside, I inhale deeply as I pace the footpath, the nicotine hit dulling the panic.
Why didn’t Chris tell me he’d seen Ky, and why hasn’t he confronted me if he thinks I’m having an affair? If I bring it up now, he’ll know I’ve been in contact with Ky.
Finishing the first cigarette, I immediately light another. With a bit of luck maybe Chris believed Ky and was satisfied with the answer. That’s gotta be it, doesn’t it? Because he hasn’t said anything. He would’ve brought it up otherwise. Right?
I take a few deep breaths, then head back inside, sitting down to Ky’s apologetic face.
“Bren, I’m sorry. I should’ve called you the day it happened, but I was trying to respect your wishes and keep my distance.”
“It’s okay,” I interject. “I overreacted. It was a fuckin’ shock is all. Finish your food.”
I scull my beer and motion to the waitress to bring another. Ky makes the right choice and orders a coke. Wanting to get the evening back on track, I change the subject. “Tell me about bein’ a paramedic. You look like you were born to do it.”
Ky leans back in the booth, his shoulders relaxing. “I love it. I can’t believe I let that asshole manipulate me like that.”
“What do you mean manipulate? You’re a stubborn bitch, how’d he manage that?”
Ky sort of folds in on himself, his chin dropping down as one arm crosses protectively over his chest. “It happens slowly, over years, so you don’t even notice at first. Then one day you don’t recognise yourself anymore. Like when we were dating, he was slowly pulling me away from my family, telling me he needed me and using my insecurities about my bipolar against me. When we had Lu, he would scare me into thinking I was going to turn out like my parents. And he would do it when I was sleep deprived or going through a depressive phase.”
I already knew James was an uppity prick who didn’t respect Ky, but this is so much worse than what I’d imagined. All I want to do is hold Ky, but I know I shouldn’t interrupt.
“He was always building me up and then tearing me down, making me more and more dependent on him. It fucked with my self-esteem, which, let’s face it, wasn’t ever great to begin with. It’s so obvious now that I’m out of it, but when it was happening, I was blind to it. It’s embarrassing, Bren. I feel ashamed. And fucking stupid.”
It’s hard to look at Ky’s pain and it breaks my heart just as much as I want to break James’s face. But what he says makes sense; his greatest fear was always that he would turn out like his shitty parents. “Ky, you’ve got nothin’ to be ashamed of. I know his type. He preys on younger men when they’re vulnerable so he can control them. I should’ve laid that motherfucker out when I had the chance.”
To my surprise, Ky bursts into laughter. “Oh, really?” he asks, eyebrows shooting up. “And when did you have the chance to do that, huh?”
It only then clicks I’ve been caught lying about the photos. Ky’s smile is infectious, and I chuckle, my face flushing. “Shut the fuck up, Davies. You don’t know shit.”
“Oh, but I do. I know all your shit, Brendan Young. Hey, do you wanna grab dessert?”
Ky orders the chocolate cake, and I order cheesecake, happy for the extra time with him.
“Bren, how’s business going?”
“Business is boomin’. I landed a commercial contract to renovate all the bathrooms at that motel up the road.” I point in the direction. “Seems like I’m movin’ up in the world. If it goes well, I hope to get more commercial jobs. I’m set to make a tidy little sum on this one.”
“That’s great. Being a boss suits you. Damn, this chocolate cake’s good.”
Ky forks a big helping and I lean across the table, stealing it and shoving it in my mouth before he can react. “Mmm,” I moan suggestively. “It does taste good.”
“You fucker! You better give me a taste of that cheesecake now.”
Ky tries to nab some, but I playfully bat his hand away. “Piss off, I need all of it.”
“Brendan, give me a taste.” Ky’s eyes drop to my lips, and I blush like a teenager. Relenting, I scoop up a decent mouthful and feed it to him. “Don’t say I never give you anythin’, Davies.”
Ky’s tongue darts out to lick over his bottom lip, his lustful gaze pinning me in place. “I’d never say that. But I’ll always want more.”
My frontal lobe switches off and my dick takes over after having held out all evening. What I’d like to do is climb across the table and settle in his lap. See if he’s hard for me. I’d like to make out with him in front of all these people then follow him home so he can fuck me senseless.
But Ky isn’t mine, and I’m not his, and suddenly a terrible thought comes to mind. What if he’s started dating again? Orhooking up? Jesus, maybe he’s on Grindr. The man always had an insatiable appetite for sex.
