She’d known his wife.
“Charlie, how many more do you have to open?” Jonny found a distraction with his son.
“Three. One from you and two from Grandma and Grandpa.” Charlie had started to peel open one.
Jonny watched the presents be revealed and then left his kids to amuse themselves while he made breakfast. It was a day off; he wasn’t on call; he didn’t even have to get dressed if he didn’t want. Sweatpants and a hoodie were absolutely fine for cooking.
“Tell me how I can help.”
He turned and saw Rayah standing at the doorway, wearing the clothes he’d had his hands in just hours before.
“You’ve helped enough. Sit down and relax. I’m making bacon sandwiches for us all. And coffee.”
“I’ll do the coffee.” She moved around his kitchen without crashing into him, knowing where everything was because she was here as much as everyone else. He could smell her body wash or her shampoo, something that was Rayah and then it hit him like a bowling ball: at some point, she’d be in a kitchen with another man, making them coffee while he made her breakfast. Not his. Not wearing nightwear that he’d bought.
“Fuck.”
She looked at him, wide eyed. “What’s happened? I didn’t hear you drop something like usual.” Her eyes glimmered, daring him to argue.
He turned around to face her, aware that he looked far too serious for Christmas Day. “Last night.” He paused, checking for noise from the living room. It was there, suggesting that the three of them were occupied and wouldn’t be walking in any time soon. “What do you want it to be?”
She folded her arms across her chest, pushing up her tits. He looked at them, not trying to hide it.
“It wasn’t weird. It probably should’ve felt weird.”
Jonny laughed. Out of everything she could’ve said, that was what he didn’t expect. “I’m glad it didn’t feel weird. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about you like that until Robyn told me that I looked at you differently. And that Charlie had noticed it.”
“How do you look at me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Rayah,” he put the packet of bacon down on the side before he did drop it. “Why are you single?”
“Because I’m too much for most men to handle? Because I have extremely high standards? I don’t know. I haven’t met anyone yet I wanted to be long-term with. I was seeing someone on and off for a bit but that was never going to go anywhere.” She took out three mugs from the cupboard and he knew one would be for Charlie who wanted to drink coffee in an attempt to look trendy, so they’d been making him very milky lattes.
Jonny remembered Keenan Rowe from school. He’d been the year below him and an all right bloke, but nowhere near good enough for Rayah. She’d never been overt in seeing him though, and he was finding he’d never really thought about it, preferring to pretend that Rayah didn’t have a boyfriend. Ever.
“I didn’t find it weird. It wasn’t like kissing a sister or something. I realised that when you were video calling the other night I wasn’t thinking about you like I would do a sister.”
“You know why that it?” She stepped towards him. “Because I’m not your sister. Funny that, isn’t it? But we have known each other forever.”
“Which could make a repeat of last night very stupid. And awkward.”
She switched a button on the coffee machine. “We may never know. Or we could try a repeat and see how it feels afterwards. You know, no one’s going to think twice if they see us out for a meal or a drink, because we’ve done that in the past.”
“True.”
“Although, now word’s gotten round that you’re no longer taken by Robyn, there’s a disorderly queue forming to check out the length of your hose.” She looked at his crotch.
“Not something I’m interested in.” He felt his cock stir under her stare.
“Why not? I know there are a few women in Severton who would wear you like a trophy, but what would be wrong in casually dating those who could be discreet. You are allowed a sex life.”
“Rayah, I’ve had a good sex life for years.” He remembered to keep his voice low, the sounds of children playing a game filtering through. They were good kids and happy to be in each other’s company, which was a blessing. “I managed a night out in Leeds or Manchester every other weekend and while I’m not your brother collecting a harem every weekend, I had hook ups, regular ones.” He didn’t get why she thought he’d been without.
“I know. Jake told me.”
And then he saw it: the flash of envy as her poker face slipped. He started to laugh at her, folding his own arms as he realised that he was about to win a battle. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m not.” It sounded almost like a hiss.
