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He gave me a bittersweet smile. “It wasn’t something I consciously planned. You know I told you I was on my own from seventeen?” When I nodded, he continued. “There was a centre close to me. A little like your youth centre, now I think about it. They had what they called ‘outreach’ programmes. I attended a few of them. On Tuesdays from six until seven, they ran a dance class, followed by a meal. It was run by volunteers, and we could pay whatever we could afford to attend. Even if someone had no money, they were never turned away. I knew that every Tuesday, if I attended the dance class, I’d get a guaranteed hot meal. It was the same on Thursdays, but that class was teaching business skills. I’m sure it had a hand in my impeccable A-level results.”
I almost smiled at his use of the word “impeccable,” but I was still stuck on the revelation that he’d attended dance classes in order to get a guaranteed hot meal.
“Is the youth centre still open?”
His lips turned down, and he shook his head. “Unfortunately, they couldn’t sustain the funding they needed, and they had to close down. I’ll never forget them, though.”
Stepping closer to him, I slid my arms around him, leaning my head against his shoulder. I didn’t even know what to say in response to his words, and I had a very strong feeling that he’d react badly if I showed him sympathy, so instead, I said, “It’s hard. The youth centre I teach at always has funding issues, too. I give what I can, but their overheads are so high. I guess they’re lucky that they have generous donors backing them.”
He sighed, his arms wrapping around me, tugging me into him so we were holding each other close. I felt a soft kiss on my temple, and then his voice was murmuring in my ear. “Thank you for inviting me today. And to your dance class at the youth centre.”
“You’re always welcome, Kill. Always. No matter what.”
After a deep, shuddering breath, he loosened his grip on me. “Do you want to get some food somewhere?”
I smiled against him. “That sounds nice. Where do you want to go?”
“Wherever we can get a table with no notice. Let’s walk.”
21
Seated in the tiny, crowded Italian pizzeria, our knees knocking together with the lack of space, I perused the menu as JJ perused me. I could feel his scrutinising gaze, and I knew he probably had questions, one of which most likely involved my irrational jealousy when his friend had shown up earlier.
When the waiter came over and JJ made no move to order, I rattled off a quick list of starters and sides, two pizzas to split, a carafe of wine, and a jug of water. He remained silent, and I slid my hand across the table, covering his.
“JJ. Talk to me.”
He blinked a few times, and then he shook his head. “Sorry. It’s been… What are we doing here?” His voice lowered. “Why did you tell me I was yours earlier?”
How was I supposed to answer either of those questions when I didn’t have a straightforward answer? I had to try, though. I knew he appreciated my being upfront, as did I. “We’re here because I wanted to spend time with you. As for earlier…” Was I really going to have to attempt to put my thoughts into words when I could barely articulate them in my brain? “I’m…I suppose I was a little jealous of how familiar you were with your friend and how well suited you are. G, too. I suppose…I felt a little left out.”
JJ growled under his breath, and then he pushed his seat back from the table. Shooting to his feet, he stalked around the table and grabbed hold of my wrist, yanking me out of my seat, and dragged me outside, completely ignoring several shocked whispers that sounded in our wake.
“Listen to me, and listen properly, because I’m only going to say this once. Your jealousy, which, yeah, is fucking hot, is completely misplaced. Nic is my friend. That’s it. And yeah, he knows G well because we’ve grown up together. We went to the same school, and he was a year below me, and I looked out for him. We stuck together. But none of that means you were left out. I don’t want Nic. He doesn’t want me. G fucking loves you—you’ve got her wrapped around your little finger already. Fucking hell, Kill, if you could’ve seen yourself dancing today. It—” He broke off, rubbing at his eyes. “It meant a lot to me to see you with G. You’re so good with her. Why can’t you see how good you are with her? Why don’t you realise that when you’re in a room with me, you’re all I see?”
My jaw dropped. People passed us, knocking into my side, but I barely noticed. “I’m all you see?”
His bright blue eyes blazed with fire as he stared at me defiantly. “Yes, Dr. Fucking. Wilder. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that.”
“Come here,” I murmured, gripping the back of his neck and kissing him with everything I had.
When I’d thoroughly subdued him, I held him tightly, trailing kisses over his face, enjoying the way he sighed against me.
“Want to go back inside now?”
He nodded, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry with you. You have to know how I— Fuck. Situationships are harder than I thought,” he muttered, ducking under my arm to wrap his fingers around the restaurant door handle.
I pulled him backwards, his spine hitting my chest. “Situationships?”
“I think that’s the best way of describing this, don’t you?” Pulling away from me, he re-entered the restaurant.
In our absence, our water, wine, and a basket of bread had been placed on the table, along with olive oil and balsamic vinegar for dipping. I poured us both some water and wine before offering JJ the bread. “Not really. Not when I don’t know what it means.”
“Kill. What do you want from me?”
How could I answer that? “Can we just take each day as it comes?”
His shoulders slumped, his whole body losing its tension. “Take each day as it comes. Yes. Let’s do that.”
