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“You don’t have to talk about it,” Freya says.
“It’s fine,” I reply. He will only keep asking. “My mum and dad had a horrible relationship from the beginning, and despite him going to prison all the time, she stuck by him… in her own way. There were plenty other men while he was inside. I was unplanned and they didn’t want me. One day, she dropped me off at my aunt and uncle’s house and never came back. She’s a shitty mum.”
“Why do you tell people she couldn’t cope?” he asks.
“I can’t believe I just told you that.”
“Why, Ainsley? I’m confused.”
“She didn’t want me. That’s it. That’s the whole sordid truth. My mum would rather be anywhere but with me. When you tell people that, things get uncomfortable.”
I bite my lip as heat creeps up my neck, wishing I’d never opened my mouth in the first place. Of all the people to admit that to, I chose Casper fucking Hart.
I take a breath, surprised when my embarrassment fades, then even more surprised when it’s replaced with a sense of power. Yeah, I’m ashamed that my own mum doesn’t care enough about me to stick around, but I know that’s not my fault.
It’s taken a long time and a lot of therapy to accept the issue is hers.
Casper doesn’t look like he’s about to laugh in my face. He looks mad, but not at me.
“Your parents are arseholes,” he says, taking a long swig of wine.
“Couldn’t agree more,” I reply.
“I… I’m sorry,” he says almost under his breath, holding my gaze and refusing to release me. The sincerity in his voice nearly floors me, and it’s easy to forget that I think he’s a tosser.
I blink twice, breaking the spell, and look from him to Freya.
That happened, right? It’s not just me being hopeful.
Casper laughs, but it doesn’t feel like he’s found anything amusing. “You thought this would make me happy? Wow.”
A strained silence hangs in the air so thick you could choke on it. I don’t know what to do with it or how to handle it. Talking about my abandonment is still a total conversation killer.
Freya clears her throat. “I’ll open another bottle.”
Yep, that’s what we need. Tonight definitely calls for more alcohol. Somehow, we’ve stepped into an alternate universe where Casper is nice, and I don’t mind him in my house. Even if having him here makes me feel weird, like my skin is too tight.
We gloss over the rubbish parents topic and the awkwardness that followed it.
Freya brings another bottle in, and we settle down to watch TV. It’s much easier than having to constantly think about what to say around him.
So, here we are, watchingPeaky Blinders,drinking wine. Casper spends most of the time on his phone, occasionally raising his head to look at the TV. I find myself a little too curious about what he’s doing. Rather, who he’s sexting.
He’ll periodically smirk at the phone, and I’m sure the woman is telling him how big he is.
It’s nice of her to lie and spare his feelings.
“She’s just flattering you because you’re hot and rich.”
The words tumble from my mouth, fuelled by alcohol and adrenaline. I’ve never admitted aloud that I find him attractive.
Arching his brow, his eyes slowly slide to mine, and I get a smirk, dimple and all. “Excuse me?”
“Nothing,” I say, grateful that we turned the lights off so my burning cheeks aren’t obvious.
“No, no. Go on. You have my full attention. Who’s flattering me because I have money?”
“Well, whichever charming lady you’re speaking to right now.”
