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“You’ve got your buddies to talk pussies with, haven’t you?” I asked, buttoning up a green shirt that was way too tight. It was time I shopped.
“I do. Other than sport, what else is there?”
“Philosophy. Books. Politics. Anyway, enough about my sex life.”
He took a slug from his bottle. “Nothing wrong with fucking around. It’s good for the ticker. An orgasm a day keeps the blues away.”
I laughed. “Who says that?”
“Me.”
“Sounds like you need a life, Ethan.”
“I’m good.” He took another sip. “So, have you fucked Cleo since returning?”
I puffed out a slow breath. I could see my brother wasn’t going to leave this alone. “I’ve seen her a few times.”
A quick tap at the door and Savanah, our sister, swanned in. “Here you both are.” She eyed the Guinness and, lunging for it, took a sip.
Ethan pulled a face. “Hell, Savvie, you just put fucking lipstick on the rim.”
She poked her tongue at him before turning to me. “Are you crashing for the weekend?”
“I only live—what? Two miles from here? But I know it will make Mother happy to have us all here together, so I thought I might,” I said, my energy drained at the thought of socialising.
Always the same questions: When are you going to settle down? Are you going to do some real work now that you’ve left the army? As though training with the SAS and flying planes was some boyish frivolity.
“So have you got a hot date lined up?” Savanah asked, picking up a framed picture of Johnny, my beloved, childhood Border collie.
“Nope.”
“Cleo’s coming,” chimed in Ethan, wagging his eyebrows.
“Mm… you’re still seeing her then?” she asked.
“We’ve caught up a few times.” I had no idea what I was doing with Cleo. We’d kicked around a bit before I went off on my last tour, and a few weeks after I returned, I ran into her. After a few drinks, she drew me into a dark room and sucked me off.
As much as I loved having my cock sucked, Cleo didn’t make my blood heat up.
Savanah looked at Ethan for clues, and he returned a shrug. “He’s not been himself since coming back from war.”
“It wasn’t exactly a full-blown war.” I puffed out a breath. I hated talking about that messy and ugly campaign. “I’m fucking fine. Don’t start.”
“Ew.” Savanah pulled a face. Acting like children poking fun at each other was how we related even as adults.
“You don’t sound fine,” she said. “So what do you think Dad will give Mummy?”
“A divorce.” Ethan’s droll remark reminded me of my parents’ fractious relationship.
“Dad’s virtually living full-time in London now. He’s got a penthouse there, you know. I’ve seen it.”
Ethan looked impressed. “I think he’s got a mistress.”
“How fucking predictable.” Moving her head from side to side, she smoothed down her green fitted dress in the mirror, turning to look at her backside. I noticed she’d lost weight again. She was super-thin as I’d already remarked. That earned me a hug.
I hadn’t meant it as a compliment, but then I found women’s obsession with being skinny baffling.
“Well Mother’s not exactly easy to be around,” Ethan appealed. He joined my sister in front of the mirror, combing his hair, which he wore in a similar style to mine.
