Merry Measure - Lily Morton Page 0,35
holiday in Benidorm with a tattoo of a moon on your thigh that looks like a five-year-old drew it in biro. Or is that just me?
But what would’ve happened this morning if Steven hadn’t interrupted? How long would it have taken for things to get awkward—for Jack to pull back and make excuses that last night was a mistake?
“I’m still waiting for an explanation for why Arlo is here in your room,” Steven breaks into the silence. “What’s going on, Jack?”
His foot is now tapping, the sweet air rapidly dissipating, and Jack seems struck dumb for some reason. In fact, he appears as though he’s being struck on the head with a stick repeatedly. And, observing Steven, that might not be too far off in the future.
I take a deep breath, mentally binning my hopes and dreams, and immediately launch into damage control. “Not what you’re obviously thinking. We’re sharing because the hotel cancelled Jack’s booking,” I say brightly. I pause. “Because he cancelled your side of the holiday, Steven, as you’d split up.” I make myself shrug. “Jack thinks of me as his little brother, and so didn’t mind sharing.” The words are thick and wrong in my mouth.
Steven grunts suspiciously, but my eyes are on Jack’s face. His expression should be one of gratitude for pulling his nuts out of the fire, but instead, he looks disappointed. Worse than that—devastated. Then he blinks, and he’s once more Jack Cooper, the man who can always be trusted to maintain a perfect façade despite the level of chaos around him
“Well, I’m here now, and I need to talk to you,” Steven says quickly. “So maybe Arlo can just buzz off and find something else to do.”
“Hang on,” I say, furious with this overconfident wanker.
I don’t have time to say anything else, because Jack breaks in. “This is actually Arlo’s room,” he says coolly, and Steven looks at him in surprise. Probably at his tone. I’ve never heard it in Jack’s voice before. “So, it would be rather unfair to turf him out, particularly as I’m not sure why you’re actually here.”
Steven rolls his eyes and shoots me a fulminating glance. “Okay, but you need to come with me, then. We have things to discuss without Arlo listening.”
I inhale sharply. My fury hasn’t dissipated, and I know some of it has to do with the fact that the two of us couldn’t be any more different. Steven’s dressed like he’s just walked off the catwalk. I’m dressed for the walk of shame.
“Oh, I’m so sorry that I was listening to your conversation in my own hotel room,” I say sweetly. “Shall I jettison myself out of the window to avoid the awkwardness? Or here’s a thought. Why doesn’t Jack follow you out of here and the two of you can talk without me hovering like a clown at a funeral.”
“Arlo,” Jack says almost desperately. “I need to speak to you first.”
Steven turns to him. “Really?” he says with a disbelieving huff. “I’ve come here to talk to you. To find a way forward. I’m standing here next to you when you haven’t seen me for a month, and you want a chat with your best friend’s little brother?”
Jack’s eyes narrow, and there’s a long, pregnant pause. “I can’t imagine what we have to say to each other,” he says, again with the cool tone. “But I’m not willing to put Arlo in the middle of it, so let’s talk somewhere else.”
Steven huffs and leaves the room with a last triumphant smirk at me.
Jack follows, but not before levelling an intense look at me. “I meant what I said about needing to speak to you,” he says. The door closes behind him with a gentle click that’s somehow louder than a slam.
I eye the bed and briefly contemplate throwing myself onto it and kicking and screaming. But I’m no longer five and Jack isn’t a toy I want. My adult desire for him is something I won’t get over after throwing a tantrum. My feelings go so much deeper than a teenage crush. I want him desperately. Now I know what he tastes like. I know he kisses like he’s desperate. Like the world will end if he doesn’t get his mouth on my lips. I know he’s hotter than the sun.
I sigh. I also know he’s not really mine. He’s never been that.
Nine
Arlo
An hour later, I make my way through the lobby. I’ve showered and dressed in jeans, a black T-shirt,