Merry Measure - Lily Morton Page 0,40
mouth, trying to look shocked. “Oh dear, I hope you didn’t get the wrong impression from what I said and think I was being rude.”
“I wouldn’t get those hopes up too high,” I say wryly. “Because it mostly looks like you’re settling in to be a twat.”
He gives a low laugh. My brother glances our way and frowns.
Unaware of the attention he’s drawing, Steven carries on. “Well, you know what they say. Those who can’t do, teach.”
“Can’t do what?”
Steven jumps at Tom’s voice. “Oh,” Steven says falteringly. Tom stiffens his broad shoulders rather menacingly. It’s effective, because at the moment he looks pissed off and mean. “I was just mentioning an old proverb.”
“How nice of you,” Tom says slowly. “Maybe you could consider the old adage of ‘If you can’t say anything nice to my brother, then you can fuck off and take a swim in the canal.’ Have you heard that one?”
Steven blanches, and Bee looks up from the piece of paper he’s been scribbling equations on. “I’m sure that’s not the right saying, Tom,” he says earnestly.
Tom winks at him. “Well, you know what a silly scatterbrain I am compared to you, my darling.”
“Everything okay?” Jack says as he returns to the table. His gaze is steady on Steven.
“Oh yes,” Steven says quickly. “Absolutely fine.”
After that, he manages to keep his barbs to himself, confining his attention to Jack, who does not appear to count himself lucky.
Half an hour later, I excuse myself from the table. The toilets are down a steep set of stairs, and I’m glad I didn’t have to navigate them last night when I was in much rougher condition. When I come out of the bathroom, I stop dead. Jack is leaning against the wall in the small lobby. The space is cosy and the dim lighting shadows his face. He pushes away from the wood-panelled wall when he sees me.
We stare at each other for a long moment. “There isn’t a queue,” I inform him.
“For what?” he asks, looking confused.
“For the toilet,” I say slowly. How much has he had to drink?
Comprehension dawns. “Oh, I thought you meant for you.”
“Well, I’m sure there is a queue for me somewhere. It’s just that I don’t know where they’ve formed it.”
He laughs, but it dies away quickly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t wait to speak to you.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry Steven showed up and ruined our time together this morning.” I stare at him and he carries on talking, the words tumbling from him. “I’ve been trying to tell him to get lost, but he keeps going on about how much he’s spent on the trip—the flight, his hotel room and meals. I’ve made it clear I’m not interested in a reunion of any type, but I’m afraid I can’t force him to go home.” He stops talking but I can only gape at him. He sighs. “Right now, though, I just want to forget about him and talk to you about last night.”
My heart picks up speed, and I feel sick with both hope and confusion. “Is it because you think you made a mistake? It’s okay, Jack. We were both drunk.”
“You think I made a mistake?” he asks, his expression clouding. “Or you made a mistake?”
“Why would that be a mistake for me?” I ask. Then I pause. “We are talking about sex, aren’t we? Not splitting the bill?” I clarify.
A smile flickers over his mouth. “We are,” he says solemnly. He bites his lip before stepping closer. “Arlo, it wasn’t a mistake for me,” he says clearly.
“Really?” I ask dubiously.
He frowns. “And that’s another thing. Why are you so surprised that someone wants you?”
My heart feels like it’s coming out of my chest. “Wait. Back up to the first thing you said,” I say sharply. “You want me?”
“Did you miss that last night when you had my cock in your mouth?”
My dick twitches and I shake my head quickly to clear my brain. “Are you sure it wasn’t a drunken spur of the moment?”
His eyes narrow, and he looks suddenly worried. “Was that what it was for you?”
I think about saying yes to save face, but I can’t be anything but honest with Jack. “No,” I say.
He slumps in relief. Then he raises his hands and cards his fingers through my hair, an absorbed look on his face. “Not for me either. I want you,” he says thickly. “So much.”
“Since when?” I’m trying not to express incredulity,