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“I do have them, Alicia. I have both of them and if they’re together, then they’re at home waiting for me.”
I hope I sound more confident than I am, because inside my stomach is churning and I think I might be sick because all I can think is that maybe Alicia is right.
“I’d let you be in control, Ben,” she whispers, seductively then gazes up at me with wide innocent-looking eyes. “I wouldn't want to boss you around all the time. Jocelyn would never put up with letting Matt dominate her all the time. When do they ever let you play that role? Hmm? I’d let you… with me.”
More than a few people know that with Matt, I’m definitely the bottom. Although she’s wrong about one thing – Joss never dominates Matt. Anyone who’s met him realises pretty soon that he’s not the type who is ever going to give up any kind of control, and that suits me. It really does. Mostly. Except that tonight… tonight I’m overthinking everything and wondering if maybe, just maybe, Alicia might have a point. Joss never dominates Matt, but she does like to dominate me and I don’t do the same nearly as often as I’d like to.
I look up into her eyes, which are now neither calculating nor manipulative. Is that because she thinks she’s persuaded me? I smile at her, a little sadly, wondering if she does actually like me — god knows why — and try to take the sting out of my rejection, just in case I hurt someone who’s actually rather sweet.
“I’m sorry, Alicia. I hope you find someone special, but that’s not me.”
She looks surprised. Did she expect me to listen to her and get worried and suspicious about the two of them being alone together and being happier without me? I push back on her wrist and step to the side.
“Oh, okay,” she says, sighing. “Well, if you ever change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
She pouts but takes the rejection in her stride and walks in front of me back to the changing area. I grab my towel and head for the shower, ensuring the door is securely locked behind me. I’m probably too hasty with my shower, because the towel has streaks of green all over it once I’ve dried myself, and so I shove it in my bag to take home and wash.
But goddammit if she hasn’t achieved almost everything she intended. I’ve never been jealous of Matt and Joss spending time together before tonight. But all of my insecurities are currently filling me and all I can think about is getting home and confronting them and — and I really don’t know.
I check my phone again in the main changing room, but still nothing. I call the group chat, but neither of them answers. Then I call each phone individually. Nothing. I shake my head. It’s been hours now since she arrived at the station. They’ll have been home for around four hours. Why have neither of them said anything? Is Alicia right? Have they both just been using me? The twenty minutes it’ll take me to walk home is going to be the longest twenty minutes of my life. Maybe they’re waiting outside for me?
When the stage door bangs behind me, I don’t see them and choke down a mix of disappointment, annoyance and worry. I shiver at how cold the winter night is, and to make matters worse, it’s raining. Joss always complains how much colder it feels on the east coast and I usually argue that at least it’s drier, but not tonight. Tonight it’s dark and cold and wet. All the things she dislikes about this city. I lower my head against the driving rain, and consider getting a taxi, but there’s a queue and I don’t want to waste just standing waiting. At least if I walk, I’ll feel like I’m making progress towards reaching them. Reaching them and telling them both something that I should have told them a long time ago.
I start to run. After five minutes, I slow down to a fast walk. My chest is burning from exertion as well as breathing this cold, damp air so deeply. My hands are freezing, rainwater dripping off my bare skin. And my cheeks and nose feel like ice. I’ve nearly stopped a few times to call them. Both? Or just one. I can’t decide. What if by the time I get there it’s too late and they’ve spoken to each other and decided they’re in love and that there’s no place for me and—
I stop and lean against the wall of a tenement block. Stop being stupid. If Joss loves you, then four hours isn't going to make any difference. Only she’d sounded so… so… I run my hand through my hair. Well, that was a mistake. Now I have water running down my neck, inside my clothes. I take a deep breath. I must only be five minutes away. No matter what, I’m better off knowing. I push away from the wall and start the last of the journey home.
The light is on in the lounge and I stare up at it for a few minutes. Are they up and ignoring me? It’ll be all right. I pull my keys out and open the door into the close, then head up the stairs. I pause before pushing my key into the lock. If they’re in the lounge, they’ll hear me and I need time to think first. What am I going to say? How am I going to say it? Do they still want me?
She hated me at first. My fault entirely. I was an utter dick to her in the summer. I wish I’d never listened to anything to our shitty director Karl had to say about her. I should have seen through all his lies and it annoys me I didn’t. But it all worked out. Until now.
I take a deep breath, push my key into the lock, and turn it.
Jocelyn
I think we dose for a while, then Matt gets up whispering that he needs to get some macarons made for the morning. He shouldn’t really be doing them at home, and I feel guilty that it’s my fault he didn’t get them finished at the shop earlier. After tossing and turning for about ten minutes, I decide to get up as well and have a coffee.
A quick glance at the clock tells me that Ben’s show finished about forty minutes ago. I check my messages first, but there’s still nothing from Ben, although I can see he’s read the messages I sent and panic stirs in my gut. I pull on a sheer pink robe that only falls to mid-thigh. Ben bought it for my birthday in September, but Matt has so far spent more time peeling me out of it than Ben has due to work commitments on the few weekends I’ve visited.
“Coffee?” Matt says, indicating the cafetiere on the countertop.
“Thanks,” I say as I wander over and pour myself a cup. It smells amazing. Matt buys far more expensive coffee than I could ever be persuaded to spend money on, but I have to admit it’s worth it. He’s mixing, making sure the batter is just the right consistency before he starts to pipe out the shells. Apparently, the aim is for it to peak, but for that peak to slowly fold over. Who knew? I watch the muscles of his bare shoulders as he whisks the egg white and icing sugar mix. Muscles that definitely don’t come solely from baking and certainly don’t belong to a man who eats too many of his own sweet confections.
The almond flour will be next and I know better than to interrupt him when he’s working, so I sit down at the table and stare unashamedly at him, while wondering about Ben.
The skin on the back of my neck prickles just before I hear a key in the lock and the front door opens. I’m on my feet and in the corridor before Ben comes inside. For a moment, I just stand there. My heart’s racing and I’m not sure I’ve taken a breath. Am I ready to face Ben? Whether I am or not, it would appear that it’s time.
“Jocelyn?”
I realise I’m staring at the floor, but I lift my head to look at that now familiar face that I could have happily punched just a few short months ago, before Matt showed us both that we could be so much happier as lovers than as enemies. I note the way his Adam’s apple bobs and see the rivulets of water running down from his hair over his wet clothes. He doesn’t move from where he’s standing in the doorway, his face in deep shadow. I didn’t turn on the lights and now I’m wishing I had. What is he thinking? Why isn’t he saying anything? I’m too afraid to do anything at all in case what he’s about to say ruins—
“You didn’t answer your phone,” he says, still not moving.
I frown, trying to remember if I saw that he’d called. “I’m s…sorry,” I stammer, wondering why he’s making me feel so… nervous, guilty. Ben’s never like this. He’s usually the one who takes things in his stride, lets his emotions play out very visibly, but tonight, he’s shuttered, closed off and I can’t read him at all. “I didn’t see that you’d called. I didn’t see any messages. We were asleep. We fell asleep after…”
I trail off, realising that he probably doesn’t want to know what we were doing together.
