He and Simon were still sharing a look. I took a seat, but I wasn’t happy about it. I was fuming, I was pissed off, and I wanted to punch something.
After a long time, Guy spoke. “A connection between Jed, me, and Simon. Yes, there is one; we are all friends. Simon may not act like it, but he and I are great friends. I know, his demeanour is as confusing to me as it is to everyone else. Sometimes I think I imagine his friendship when I receive one of those scowls – just like now. But we are. And we are friends with Jed. The three of us had a little club.”
“A club?” I asked.
“A nicer way of saying we were drinking buddies.” Guy waved his hand. “To put it bluntly, Jed and Simon would come over and the three of us would get shitfaced on expensive booze.”
“There’s more,” I said.
“I mean, we got very drunk,” Guy said. “We acted like students.”
“There’s more. So, you guys binge drank every once in a while? Big whoop. That doesn’t lead to you all getting your lives ruined.”
A flash passed through Guy’s eyes. I could tell he was cooking something up.
“Don’t lie to me,” I warned.
Simon put his hand on Guy’s shoulder. “I’ll tell him.” They shared another glance. “Arden, look, you know Riz and I were open. Guy and I have had an arrangement for a few years.”
I cocked my head.
“Since I moved here. It’s always been casual. When we needed a release.”
Jesus Christ. Was every gay man I slept with part of some endless conga line of dicks?
“And once, on one of those nights, Guy and I got a bit carried away, and Jed saw a bit too much. He put two and two together and got five and thought there was more to it than there was.”
“He is a vicar,” Guy said. “Despite his foibles, he believes, deep down, that sex should be for couples.”
I got up and paced the room. Because it was either that or I started laughing until they sent me to the Funny Farm because I might never stop.
The entire connection was that Jed had once walked in on Guy and Simon going at it because they were friends with benefits?
This was a lie. And I was tired.
The antechamber we sat in was big enough to get a fair bit of speed up while pacing, but my legs felt like lead. I sighed. “Fine, fucking hell, whatever. When you’re ready to be honest, let me know. In the meantime, I’m going home.” I left without saying anything else. They could lie all they wanted; I wasn’t interested. There was more to this, and I wanted nothing to do with it any longer.
Slamming the door of Guy’s house, I stalked back to my car. I expected Simon to follow me out so I waited a few seconds. Nothing. No footsteps. He was probably already fucking Guy again.
Was this what dating in your thirties was like – an endless parade of people who had barely finished having sex with someone else trying to have sex with you? If I had known how interconnected Guy, Tarquin, Simon, and God knows who else were, would I have become involved with any of them? Probably not, to be honest.
I started my car and drove home. Kennedy was waiting for me when I got there.
Safely ensconced at my cottage, I switched my phone back on and let any messages come through as I got ready for bed. A voicemail from Sonia.
Despite the heat, I curled up under the covers with Kennedy. I decided I’d listen to the message tomorrow.
That damn piece of paper.
Answers, all this meant that I needed answers.
The next day was thankfully cooler. Several degrees lower than previous days, which was a blessed relief. The weather forecast said the temperature would skyrocket back up over the week. But thankfully for one Sunday, it was overcast and mild. After a day of throwing myself into work to avoid any thoughts of men and their annoying traits, Kennedy made himself known at around 4 p.m.
The sky was darkening, with the prospect of a thunderstorm.
But my dog was carrying his lead around the house. “Walkies time, is it?” I said and slammed my laptop shut. “Good idea, boy.” I gave his fur a ruffle and got a tongue loll.
“You’re the only man I could ever love,” I told him. Which was completely unhealthy.
