The room is touched by violet as the morning begins, this time my parched throat driving me from my bed. Pre-dawn light filters through the blinds as I enter the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks.
Stretched across the family room sofa is Shane.Blanket and pillow supplied.
I’d almost convinced myself he was a dream, or a nightmare seems more appropriate now. I stare at him, almost not breathing, still deciding on a course of action when he stirs. Blinking sleepily, his eyes wander down my frame.
‘Nice undies,’ he says, stretching confidently. Long denim clad legs extend over the sofa arm, his hands reaching for the ceiling in show.
‘What are you doing here?’ I hiss quietly. The last thing I need is my parents to wake because it’s obvious whose side they’re on.
‘Your mum called and said you were back.’
Flipping the mop of sandy brown hair from his eyes, he stretches his bare torso as he rises to sit. The whole action just pisses me off.
‘That is not a reasonable response. Don’t you have a phone or something? Couldn’t you have, like, called in advance, instead of sleeping at the foot of my bed like some fucking stalker!’
He laughs as he balls the thin blanket, depositing it on the floor. His movements are unhurried, like he thinks he knows the outcome of this reunion. Maybe it’s the knickers, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to react. I hang onto my anger, underwear or not.
‘Shush, you’ll wake them up and then we’ll both be sorry,’ I bluff. His eyes light up with misunderstanding, no doubt recalling the times we’ve fucked quietly, my parents asleep in the next room. ‘Dream on,’ I add in a sneer.
He laughs as he says, ‘It’s okay. I’m invited. I nearly climbed in with you last night.’ I exhale a squeak, his hands rising in surrender. ‘I didn’t, I slept here. I thought you’d want to talk first.’
‘How big of you,’ I snipe. ‘What are you doing here, anyway? I told you over there that we’re done. We split up! For God’s sakes, there was another man in my apartment when you turned up.’
‘So we’re even now. And, babe, I don’t see him now.’
‘And as for getting into bed with me,’ I continue, ignoring him. ‘Well, you’re lucky you didn’t or you’d have woken up with your balls in your gob!’
He looks surprised—he always was a little self-absorbed—followed by a hint of contrition. But the room echoes with my hissed fury, dust motes dancing in the sun, it having risen along with my rage. I’d never really understood the termseethingbefore now. I take a moment to imagine what it looks like as anger fizzes from my every pore.
Shane sits forward, elbows at his knees, rubbing fingers through his hair. ‘So it’s safe to say you’re not ready to let me apologise yet.’
‘Please, Shane, understand. We’re through.’
‘Katie,’ he says, palms now out in a plea even as his eyes run speculatively along my legs.
‘Don’t even think about it. That time has passed. Finished.Khallas.’
The last word echoes in my head, bringing me to the startling realization that I’m not mad. No, that’s not true. Thereisanger, but more of the pissy kind. I’m annoyed that he’s here, at the con-artistry of the situation; this thing they’ve engineered between them like I’m something to be controlled. The direction of my feelings catches me off guard. Shane’s actions have no bearing over how I feel. There’s no nostalgia for the familiar, no longing for what once was. I hurt only for Kai.
Oh, the fucking irony.
‘Just go,’ I say, fight gone from my words.
‘Would you just listen to me for a minute?’
‘What would be the point? You were the worst kind of unfaithful.’ One of the worst kinds, anyway. I don’t consider myself inexperienced in these matters these days. ‘And I really don’t care. Not anymore.’
His mouth draws together like a string on a purse. ‘But that guy, you’ve left him now.’ The words hang in the air, daring a response. I stare back defiantly. No way I’m going to get drawn into this, especially not with him. ‘Didn’t take you long to piss him off,’ he taunts, shoving his arms through the sleeves of his shirt.
Still silent, I stare back as he moves from the sofa, brushing past my body on his way out. I follow automatically as he turns.
‘You’re going to the door dressed like that?’ He frowns, looking down at my legs.
‘I want to make damn sure you’ve gone.’
‘Then put on some shorts. Or maybe you like me staring at you.’ He steps closer, crowding me, his hand reaching for my face. ‘Maybe you want me to kiss you goodbye.’
My eyes shoot wide in astonishment. ‘Get. Out. Which part of that do you not understand? I don’t want you here. I don’t want you staring at me and I bloody well don’t want to kiss you! And for the record, if I want to walk around in my knickers, I will. If I want to cartwheel down the main drag tit-arsed naked I will, and there’s not a thing you can do about it!’
