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“They’re soft touch. You were going at them like you were trying to break rocks.”
Soft frigging touch. What happened to handles? “You live here?”
“I’m a frequent flyer.”
What the fuck did that mean? The guy was in front of him with a palm-sized sticking plaster and a glass of cold water; lifelines. He took both.
“If she wants you to stay, don’t leave because of me.”
Two A-class reasons to go.
“Look, she never brings anyone here. You must mean something to her. Don’t go because of me.”
Mace put the glass down on the floor, rummaged for a shirt. He was already gone. He’d crash at home for a few hours, get his head straight, then get on with the day and the subsequent weird of seeing Jacinta Monday in one of her armoured suits.
“I see you two have met.”
Jacinta stood in the room, some kind of Hollywood slinky gown with big sleeves covering her, but she was naked underneath and holding her head. “God, Jay, if you have to be here, get me a couple of tablets for this headache.”
Bustle was the best way to describe how Jay went about that, as though he lived to jump to Jacinta’s command.
“Mace, this is my friend, Jay. He lives across the hall and has trouble keeping to his own apartment, even though it’s bigger than mine.”
Friend, what did that mean? Supplies in the bedside drawer. Not that it mattered. He was still out of here. He wanted to get to Buster early. She’d be worried if she’d seen last night’s news.
“Mace, Jay’s going now.”
“I thought we’d watch the marathon together.” Jay was pouting. He handed Jacinta tablets and water.
“Go home, Jay. Mace, come back to bed.” Jacinta held out the hand without the glass in it and beckoned him. He’d forgotten about the marathon. He needed to go before he had to walk, limp really, miles outside the perimeter for a cab.
She dumped the glass on the long kitchen counter and advanced on him. He should go right now. “Come back to bed.” She took the t-shirt he was holding out of his hand and dropped it on the floor. She tucked her fingers in the waist of his jeans and yanked. He resisted. “You showered, you smell so good. You don’t really want to go.”
He didn’t have the motivation to deny that.
She was gloriously tousled and she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to his chest. He wanted to be beside her, inside her again, if she wanted it. He looked at Jay over the top of her head.
The man closed his eyes and groaned. “I brought us breakfast, you ungrateful bitch.”
Jacinta unwrapped the front of her robe and pressed her hot funky little body to him and he groaned against her lips, then into her mouth as she opened to him. Did Jay see her flash, did it matter? Jay wasn’t the one with her warmth pressed against him.
“Okay, I’m going. I don’t need a floor show.”
He might get one. She was a hangover cure to beat what the drug companies had to offer and he held on to the therapy of her, the promise of recovery. He kiss walked her backwards, past Jay, around the edge of the sofa and down the corridor to her bedroom. He missed the doorway and backed her into the wall and she hit her head and cringed into him with a kind of laugh sob that told him she was too sick to do much more than fool around a little, despite the come-on. He carried her to the bed and that was dumb. He didn’t know where the rest of the glass was and he hadn’t checked his phone, and he’d be stuck here now till the marathon was well and truly underway.
It was one of the best decisions he’d made in weeks.
They didn’t do anything more than get naked and cuddle up and it was a kind of astonishing to be with her, with anyone, that way. He didn’t have this in his life, this softness and ease. He didn’t have time for it. It was a shit he had to write himself off with a one night stand to get it. But he simply didn’t know anyone who kissed him like she’d die without his lips and wanted to tuck her head under his chin, sprawl across him and trust him to fall asleep in seconds.
He combed her hair away from her face and felt her go limp and heavy and loved the peace of it. Why didn’t she have someone she could do this with, be at rest with? If not Jay, there’d have to be a queue of eligible fuckers. Available was his standard, but for her to be the same was a failure he was too brain-numbed to define, but not too lacking in awareness to realise was a problem.
He was into her and it wasn’t the plan. It was far more weirdness than he’d signed on for.
4: Locked Out
Jacinta woke him with kisses across his jaw, over his throat. “We need food.”
It made him smile. He opened one eye. Yeah, light-headed didn’t cover how he felt. Hollow and threadbare, like an old soft toy with plucked stuffing came close.
