‘Oh, I see how it is,’ she says, folding her arms with a huff. ‘You’re meetinghisfriends before I get to meethim. Keep the scary porn lady out of the loop.’
‘Really? Do you think I’d really let that happen? Of course, you come first, crazy porn magnate or not.’ Chas smiles a little slyly as I begin to lay it on thick. ‘Friday night, he’s coming to pick me up.’ No meeting him at a hotel this week. ‘I thought we might have predinner drinks.’
‘Acceptable,’ she replies, hiding her smile behind her tea cup. ‘Where are you meeting his friends on Sunday? Purely out of interest.’
‘Of course, we’re just making small talk. Not comparing friendship terms.’
‘I knew you’d understand.’
The waitress arrives with my espresso, a fresh pot of oolong for Chas, and a large wedge of chocolate cake for me.
‘If you hadn’t given me the right answer, I’d have sent that back for apple cake.’
‘Good thing I know you’re the best friend in the world then, isn’t it?’
‘And so easily bought. I’m beginning to wonder if Keir is taking you to The Savoy for high tea to meet his friends and that’s why you’re avoiding the question.’
‘Ha! As if. We aren’t going anywhere fancy. A pub lunch, I think he said. Oh, and a casual invitation to watch Keir and his friends roll around a muddy rugby field.’
‘Oh, God!’ she groans, throwing her head back suddenly.
I look left and right, wondering how much attention we might have attracted while Chas mini orgasmed in the chair opposite me.
‘I’m the one with the chocolate cake. Why are you moaning in ecstasy?’
‘Thighs,’ she says, fanning her face with her hand. ‘Rugby thighs are so rucking hot.’
‘Am I supposed to get that reference? Because I so don’t.’
‘The ruck. It’s a thing. We’ll watch some,’ she says, suddenly sitting up straight. ‘When we get home. I can explain a few of the finer points.’
‘About the game?’
‘No, about the men, silly. I love a man with rugby thighs. Rugger buggers are just so... ’
‘Whole body shiver eliciting?’
‘Exactly.’
‘So it looks like I’m learning about rugby today.’
Only, when we get home, the afternoon doesn’t play out that way.
Chapter 23
KEIR
Sitting in my home office, I find myself typing a note.A note to Paisley. It’s not a love letter exactly. Though I will admit to feeling the first stirrings of something. Not in the letter, of course, or even out loud; it’s still early days. But I will say that I can’t ever recall feeling like this for a long time.Maybe even ever?And it’s fucking scary. Can a heart grow to accommodate more? Adapt? And if it is possible, why didn’t my ex feel the same when Sorcha was born?
Why do my thoughts always come back to her? Love to hate. Hate to love.They say lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place, but I’ve seen the YouTube videos.
So I type. It’s not exactly loving or cathartic. More like filth.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever send it, but I type it all the same.
Paisley, I can’t get the image of you yesterday out of my head. The white shirt I could see the lace of your bra through. The dark skirt hugging your curves. Do you know, I sometimes think your arse deserves a frame? It’s like a work of art.
I have a request, too. For our next date, can you wear the little black belt—the one with the gold buckle? Does it make you think of being tied as much as it makes me think of tying you? Wear it for me if it does.
