Page 2 of House of Bass

Other than me, Richard Arden Thorne is the smartest person I know, with an arrogance rivalling even the worst of men. And the worst part is I hated how fucking fit he is.

“...Months. You’ve had her in there for months. She hates being away from home, just pull her out!” Arden huffs down the line and slams one of the lockers close in frustration. In all the years I have known him, I don't think I have ever seen him that angry unless it is to do with matters regarding his father. A part of me had an inkling that is who he is battling with.

I seem to have shifted a little too loudly at the noise, leading to my presence being revealed. His head whips my way and the anger on his face simmers down but only mildly. He lowers his voice and returns to his call, no longer as animated he quickly ends it with a promise to continue their conversation later.

“Eavesdropping is still considered undignified, you know?” he says, as he starts to change into actual clothes, not caring one bit that I’ll be seeing him naked.

“If you weren’t yelling so loudly I wouldn’t have to come check to see if someone was being mauled.” I retort, “If I knew it was you I would've gone about my day without a care in the world.”

He scoffs a laugh. “There’s no world in which that is true because you’re the nosiest person I’ve ever known.”

I give him the finger, and he fights a smile, as I try not to rake my eyes down his body. He continues, “What are you doing here so early?”

“Taking advantage of the empty studio. You?”

At my question, it is as if his whole being remembers why he was so upset earlier, and his entire demeanour shifts, “Wanted to clear my head, I couldn’t sleep.”

“You and I both,” I murmured. He looks up, raises an eyebrow, and watches me in that way that makes me want to pour out everything I am holding in. I simply wave him off and I have to look away from him slightly to not falter.

He finishes getting changed, and stalks closer with his tennis bag in hand, his scent clouding around me, “Have you eaten?” I shook my head. “Figured, considering how much you like to forgo food, especially when something is on your mind.” He taps the side of my head as he says this. How can he read me so well after all these years? I didn’t like it.

I am relatively tall for a girl, but still he towers over me. I look up into his blue-green eyes as he looks down at me, our gazes paralysing each other for a moment. Then he breaks it and says, “We’ll go eat together.”

I take two steps back, trying to put distance between us. “Since when do we eat together?” I ask

He shrugs like this wasn’t out of the ordinary for us. I continue adamantly, “I still want to dance, I’m not changing my morning for you. Aren’t you on your way out?”

He puts his hands in his trouser pockets and shrugs. “I’ll wait.”

“For two hours?”

“I’ll watch.”

Realising I am not going to get rid of him, I sigh and concede. “Fine, but don’t bother me.”

He smirks, “When do I ever?” I fight a smile of my own. I walk out the room, not waiting for him to follow; I know he’ll be trailing right behind.

So for the next two hours, he watches me dance without saying a word. His eyes never leave me and I can feel him from every corner of the room I move through. This isn’t the first time he’s done this; this is how it was before. When our entire lives bled so deeply into one another, we moved as one. But it isn’t like that anymore, and hasn’t been for a long time.

✧✧✧

By noon we step into Lancaster Club on Park Lane, the place is bustling with other people who had the idea to come here for brunch as well. The food here is great so it isn’t a surprise, it is the best spot for it. Chef Konate is a brunch specialist that was brought in specifically for it. Lancaster is mostly a day club and while people do come here in the evenings it definitely isn’t for the food, or to talk.

The room falls into a slight hush when they notice who I am standing with and I’m not shocked by the reception which is why I was initially hesitant about going anywhere with him.

I categorise my life into two parts; Before and After I Lost Arden Thorne. In the Before , it was very normal to see Arden and I together, we were never apart no matter how much our parents and friends wished we would separate. In the After? We only existed in the company of our shared friendships, talking at but not to each other. It is easier that way. We rarely ever speak, it is too hard.

Hence why they are all staring at us the way they are right now. If it had been any other day, his invite would’ve gone in the bin and honestly there wouldn’t have been one in the first place. There is clearly a volatileness and vulnerability that swirled inside us both, that is trying to reach out to a voice that once understood in a way no one else ever could.

“I’ll poke the eyeballs of the next person I see looking my way,” I grumble as I bite into my food. We both got a full english, well, I got half an english instead: one of everything, no baked beans (they’re vile), and whole wheat instead of white bread.

“I’m sure they’re already prepared for that possibility. Your penchant for violence isn’t exactly a secret,” Arden says with a smirk.

I turn my glare his way. “I don’t have a penchant for violence.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Don’t.”