“You’ve never watched a single romantic movie?”
“Nope.”
“Like, at all?”
I snicker. “Never.”
“Not even if I asked you to?”
“Not even then, sweetheart.” I wink at her. “So—” I clear my throat because I can’t believe I’m about to ask her this question. “Cam girl, huh?”
She shrugs, unbothered. “I mean, it pays the bills, gives me the lifestyle I want, and I don’t even have to have sex with anyone.” Those dark blue orbs of hers meet mine, and for a split second I can hear all the things she wants to say but refuses to.
So, like a fucking idiot I say, “Does your father know?”
“He does. And now so do you.” She grins playfully, her tongue darting out to lick the seam of her lips, and I find myself focussing on the simple act longer than I should. How is something so effortless twisting my guts with a desire to suck her tongue into my mouth and kiss her so deeply she forgets her own name.
I’ve never wanted someone the way I want Robyn. Never been in such a frenzy to touch a woman the way I do her. Just her presence alone makes me feral with a pure, unadulterated craving to have her body pressed against mine.
Realising I need to get out of this situation before I make matters worse than I already have, I push to stand from the couch and make my way towards the door to the kitchen. “You want to eat in there and continue with the film?” I call back loud enough so she can hear me.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” she yells back through the house. “Wouldn’t want to stain any of your rich people furniture!”
“Very funny,” I mutter to myself as I make my way into the kitchen to not only plate dinner for the both of us, but to stop the boner threatening to tent my sweats.
After eating the delicious lasagna Jack cooked, we watched another movie in total silence, and other than the odd movie quote we both recited during its play-through, neither of us said anything. There was an elephant in the room, the air was thick with tension surrounding it, and the more I thought of having that conversation, the more uncomfortable I became and the more I found myself questioning whether I should even mention it at all.
Three messages ping through to my phone, and when I flick my eyes to it the screen lights up with Toby’s name—yes, again. How has it not registered to him from our earlier argument upstairs that I’m not interested in hashing this out any further. It’s over. I’ve come to terms with it, so why isn’t he? I’m assuming none of the things in either of those three messages are going to be nice to read, so I forgo picking up my phone and reading them. It’s not worth it, and neither is he.
Focussing back on the movie and trying to ignore the frustration now running through me, I lift my leg onto the couch and rest my chin on my knee. The movie pauses and I groan inwardly, knowing full well Jack is going to say something. I roll my head to the side and look at him.
Jack nods towards my phone impassively. “Do you not want to get that? Seems like someone is desperate to get a hold of you.”
“He’s not important,” I answer blankly, because he’s not. Toby hasn’t been important to me for a while, and god forbid Jack sees some of the things that douchebag says to me. That would be far too embarrassing.
“Was he the one you were arguing with during the early course of this morning?”
The question catches me off guard and I sigh softly. “Ex-boyfriend.”
“Ah.” He nods in understanding. There’s a few seconds of silence before Jack speaks again. “Want to talk about it?”
A small smile grows on my face due to how sweet it is that he’s actually asking. “That’s sweet of you. He had a bad accident, and I couldn’t be with someone like him anymore, y’know?”
“An accident? That’s it?” The space between his brows pinches and he looks at me curiously.
I nod, taking the remote control from his hand and pressing play on the movie. “Yeah. He had a really bad fall. Fell dick-first into my best friend.”
There’s silence for a beat, and then a deep grumble belts out from beside me and I jolt back in shock. Jack sits there with his head dropped back against the sofa, his shoulders jostling up and down with mirth. The sound of his enjoyment is loud and free, yet also rough and velvety as it rumbles out of him and fills the room.
“That’s right,” I snort. “Laugh at my pain why don’t you.” I smack his shoulder lightly with the back of my hand.
He presses his hand to the area and rolls his head to face me. “No, I’m not, it’s just… your mother cheated on me with the chef who would cook at the dinner parties she would throw here.”
My jaw drops as I stare at him. I’m completely and utterly shocked at the words that just came from his mouth, and all my reaction does is make him laugh even harder. “You’re lying.”
“Nope, caught them myself. I’m more upset about losing the cook than anything.” He chuckles more.
“Jesus, I knew my mother was a cunt, but I didn’t expect her to be a cheating cunt.” I join in with his laughter.
