I sit forward and shut my eyes as he pours water over my hair, drenching it into a manageable state. But his words spark a notion in my brain. ‘You didn’t invite me to your room because I’m going to be seeing Klint today, did you?’
Dain doesn’t reply as he’s fiddling with the shampoo bottle, then says, ‘I know it looks like I’m marking my territory. But my invite was based on me wanting to be with you and that alone. The timing was purely coincidental. Tilt.’
I lean my head back as he palms shampoo gently through my long wet hair, slowly massaging the pads of his fingers in tiny circles over my scalp. It feels delicious, tingly; and I sigh, relaxing back into his chest, thinking,He seems open to talking about stuff. Maybe this is a good time to ask him about the inscription and get it out of the way. Hopefully, it’s some silly nonsense of Gareth’s, and I can forget about it.
‘Dain, can I ask you something?’
‘Last night was wonderful, and yes, I’m going to be thinking about you every second you’re away,’ he murmurs in sultry tones, anticipating my question. He finishes shampooing and fills the jug with fresh water.
‘I’m glad to hear that, but it’s about something else.’
‘Ask away, my sweet.’
I sit up again, and he pours the water over my head to rinse off the suds.
Oh god, I really don’t want to talk about this, but it’s going to suppurate like a sore if I don’t.
Dain flips open the cap of the conditioner, and I turn my head slightly towards him. ‘You know the book of Emily’s poems, on your nightstand?’
He places a soft kiss on my cheek. ‘Do you want me to recite one to you? I know most of them by heart.’
My heart twangs in my chest.That would be lovely ... But no, Lizzy. Focus.
‘Um, I saw the message, written on the flyleaf. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, but I read the underlined stanza too ... I’m kind of confused.’
A pause. Dain starts combing conditioner through the ends of my hair with his fingers. He tugs on the tangles, and it makes me wince. ‘Why did it confuse you?’ he asks and obviously knows what I’m referring to.
I can’t tell from his even tone whether he’s open to talking about it or about to shut me down at a moment’s notice.
So I swallow and plough on, unable to stop the momentum of this conversation. ‘Has ... has Gareth got a crush on you or something?’
Dain inhales deeply from behind me, and his hands drop away from my hair. When he speaks, his voice is low and careful, like he’s feeling his way with the words. ‘Gareth and I were ... lovers.’
The word ‘lovers’ hits my brain like a sledgehammer, but I have trouble comprehending it.
‘W-what?’
‘We werelovers,’ he repeats, and I balk, fully getting his meaning.
‘But ... are you gay?’
‘I think after last night, you would know I’m not.’
I shake my head, feeling frustrated at what he’s not saying. ‘I don’t understand!’
A pause. Then Dain says quietly, ‘I like both sexes.’
The pieces of the puzzle click into place. Why he doesn’t ever talk about Joelle and why he sounded all wistful when he said he’d had someone, but they’d parted ways. It wasGareth,not Joelle, he was talking about! My world tilts sideways on its axis, and the bathroom becomes a suffocating steam prison.
I try to push myself out of the tub, but I’m not quick enough. He holds his wet arms around me tightly, talking urgently in a fast stream. About how he and Joelle were in an on-again, off-again relationship and thatthings got sexualbetween him and Gareth on a hiking trip on the moors and that it felt right. But he still kept seeing Joelle too because he didn’t want to stop, and he and Gareth were meeting up in secret at the hotel; and soon,things became emotional. How he confessed to Joelle, and she was angry but came around and thatthings got experimentalwhen they tried to make it work between the three of them. But Gareth couldn’t take it, andthings imploded...
It’s too much to take in. ‘No!’ I gasp. ‘I don’t want to hear it!’ I wriggle frantically, trying to escape from his arms. But he won’t let me go.
My chest is heaving with the effort of trying to get away from him. Then much to my annoyance, I burst into tears, overcome from the lack of sleep and the shock of finding out the truth and being completely blindsided.
‘Lizzy, this is why—this is why I was trying to protect you from me,’ Dain says gently.
His caring, but pitying tone only makes me cry harder. It feels like he’s saying, ‘You should’ve tried to resist me, but you couldn’t, and now look—it’s your fault we’re in this situation.’
