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“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 consistencybefore 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.
“I thought you might have met me at the theatre.”
I swallow, beginning to understand just exactly what is going on. He’s jealous. Ben. I frown. He takes a step forward and the front door closes behind him.
“We just.. It was wet. And cold. And I was…. Upset. And—”
“And Matt fixed all that for you, didn’t he? Took you to bed. Made you feel good.”
“He did, but…”
“And you didn’t need me to… neither of you needed…”
I take a step back, shocked at his words. How can he think that?
“You were at work. We weren’t… Ben.” His name comes on a gasp as he steps forward and I see his face in the moonlight coming into the hall through the lounge door. The word cocky pretty much sums him up most of the time, all of the time, but right now, he just looks sad. Defeated. Lonely.
“The two of you could be a couple, you know,” he says.
“I… what?” That’s not what I was expecting him to say. Why is he saying this? Is he considering leavingus? Is that what this is about? “We could but… We’re not. We’re with you. Do you… not want to be with us anymore?” I feel sick. I’m not sure how I managed to force those words out of my mouth.
There’s silence for far too long. He’s just standing there staring at me. The first time I tell a guy, okay, two guys, that I love them and the first thing one of them does is what? Dump me?
“Ben?” Tears are flowing down my face and I’m not sure what to do with them. “I don’t understand. I thought we were all in this together, that you l—”
“Sometimes, it feels like this is all about what you both want. What you both need. And I… I just fill in when it’s convenient.”
“No, that’s not true.” A sob catches in my throat, and I can’t bring myself to move. I look up at him, barely able to see him thorough my tears. “Please, Ben. Tell me what’s wrong. What you want.”
“I want to feel like this… our relationship belongs to me, too. That sometimes I can ask for… demand…” he trails off and I begin to understand.
“I thought you liked what we do?”
“I do, but it’s just…. I want to feel like sometimes, it’s all about me.” He looks down at the hall carpet. “That sounds selfish.”
“No, I’m sorry. You should have said,” I say. “I… I should have realised… I’ll do whatever you want right now,” I promise him. My heart leaps when he smiles and the terrible knot of fear inside me loosens a little.
Then he’s moving towards me and he lifts me up and carries me into the kitchen before perching me on the edge of the kitchen counter. Matt is mixing spoonfuls of almond flour into the batter.
“What are you…?”
“Not now, Matt,” I plead with him as Ben presses his forehead to mine and we look into each other’s eyes. His skin is freezing, damp from the rain, but his breath is warm against my face.
