I shook my head and set about unpacking the shopping under Angus’s watchful gaze. They were only in the bloody living room. If anything kicked off, it wasn’t like I wouldn’t hear them. As it was, I found myself straining to listen.
The louvre doors separating the living room from the kitchen/diner were closed, and I really wished I’d left them open earlier. I could only hear muffled voices, but at least they didn’t sound raised at this point.
Jeez, Jasper had bought enough shopping to last us a week. As I finished unpacking the first bag, I found the tear-off ingredient section for one of my recipe cards and smiled. I loved cooking, even if it was using prepared spices, but doing it for just myself had lost its appeal pretty quickly.
Having someone to share it with had breathed a whole new life into mealtimes. As loathe as I was to admit it, Jasper moving in had been one of Cole’s better ideas. He’d only been here a week, but it felt like so much longer.
The wariness I felt about sharing my home with a stranger had disappeared almost after the first day. Admittedly Jasper wasn’t exactly a stranger, but he wasn’t someone I knew all that well either.
Not at first anyway.
He was so easy to talk to though, I felt we were well on the way.
Guilt niggled at me again for ambushing him with his dad in the living room. I could hardly have not let him in.
Fuck it.
I’m going in.
I tugged open the louvre doors enough to poke my head through. “Sorry to interrupt, but would either of you like a drink?” That was a legitimate excuse, right?
To say the atmosphere was tense would be an understatement. Jasper’s dad had his back to me, so I met Jasper’s gaze and mouthed, “Okay?” He gave me a quick nod in reply, but his body language didn’t set me at ease. He sat rigid in the chair, hands clenched into fists.
“I’d love a coffee, thanks,” his dad said, startling me. I’d almost forgotten he was there.
“Yeah, sure. Jasper?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” Yeah, he clearly wasn’t. For the past three nights, he’d practically begged for a hot chocolate the minute he walked through the door.
“Just a coffee it is then.” I went back into the kitchen but didn’t pull the door all the way closed and refused to feel guilty about it.
Leaning against the worktop as the kettle boiled, I shamelessly eavesdropped on their conversation.
“Why are you really here, Dad?” Jasper asked, the resignation clear in his voice. Like he knew he wasn’t going to like it but wanted to get it out of the way.
“I spoke to your mother, yesterday. She was still a bit upset about you moving out. I must say I can’t blame her, seeing as I didn’t even know you’d left.” The accusation hung in the air for a moment and I braced myself for Jasper’s response.
“Oh, so you suddenly give a shit about where I’m living now, do you?”
“Language, Jasper.” His dad sighed. “And of course I care where you live, and who you live with,” he added in a whisper, but I still heard it loud and clear.
Wanker.
I was tempted to march in there and ask him what he was implying, but the kettle boiled, making me jump as it switched off.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Jasper yelled, his dad’s attempt at shushing him falling on deaf ears.
Another sigh and I paused, coffee in hand, waiting for his dad’s explanation. I had a pretty good idea what it would be.
“He’s a lot older than you, Jasper. And gay.”
“So?”
“I just want to make sure he’s not...”
Yeah, exactly what I thought he’d fucking say, even if he didn’t have the balls to complete that sentence knowing I could hear them.
“Not what?” Jasper asked, the challenge clear.Say it.
