My clothes are dripping onto the carpet and I shiver. “Yes.”
“You are truly the master of communication today.” He cocks his head. “And what is Xavier like? Anything like his arse of a father?”
“No.” I shake my head. “No. He’s… he’s lovely actually.”
His eyes narrow, and I want to groan. Grey is like a missile. When he locks onto a target, you’d better stand out of the way. And he’s on target now, his attention sharp and focused. “Lovely, eh?”
“Yes.”
“How old is he?”
“Nineteen.”
“Blond hair?”
“Yes.”
“Green eyes?”
“No. Blue.”
“Tall?”
“Yes.”
“Shagged him yet?”
“Yes.” I pause. “No, I?—”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even bother. I knew something was up.” He whistles. “Bloody hell. You’re shagging Jez’s kid. Bet that went down with Jez like a cup of cold sick.”
“It’s not gone down well, no.”
“So why do it?” He stares at me. “This is so far beyond what I thought was wrong that I’m a bit lost, to be honest.”
“You and me both.” I cock my head. “What did you think was wrong with me?”
He waves a hand. “I thought we were finally acknowledging your PTSD.”
The interest fades. “I haven’t got that,” I say coldly.
“What you have got is a nose longer than Pinocchio’s. Fuck. You shagged Jez’s kid.”
“Can westopsaying that. He has got a name, for fuck’s sake.”
“Xavier, yes? So, is this teenage rebellion on his part, then?”
I make an impatient gesture. “No, of course not.”
“There’s no of course about it.” He hesitates. “Is he as selfish as his old man? He’s got to be to get you involved and?—”
“He’snotselfish,” I burst out, my voice far too loud. He stares at me, and I can’t help but elaborate. “He’s snarky and far too beautiful and—” My words run out when I see him staring at me. “What?”
“Oh my god, you actuallylikehim.”
“No, I don’t.” I try to scoff, but I know it hasn’t landed properly before I’ve even finished the sentence.
“Yes, you do. You more than like him.” He whistles. “Bloody hell, I never thought I’d see the day.” I don’t reply, and he pauses before saying, “So why the long face? Does he not feel the same?”
