AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It still takes him a moment to deal with having an emotion that isn’t mild irritation. “Everyone in the family has a personal decoration, either their favourite, or something someone bought for them or, occasionally, one they made when they were six.” He’s speaking quite rapidly now, like he’s reading the disclaimer on an advert. It’s sort of sweet that he’s embarrassed. “And it’s always the last one you hang and when they’re all up, the tree is done and Christmas has started. So…” He points at the guinea pig. “This one’s for you. Because you’re…you’re part of it this year.”
My desire to take the piss has completely evaporated. And, for a while, I can’t get words out. It’s probably mostly shock because Jonathan Forest has done a genuinely nice thing without being prompted. And he’s done it for me. “Thank you,” I manage. And nowI’membarrassed because that feels fucking inadequate. I can’t remember the last time I—
Never mind.
“Well”—Jonathan’s looking increasingly uncomfortable—“you’ve been helpful to me. And I’m aware I…I’m not very good at… I haven’t been very—”
And I don’t know how it happens or what I’m thinking or what I expect to happen next, but I kiss him.
In practice, what happens next is very, very quick. I’ve got about half a second to think to myself that Jonathan’s mouth is beautifully soft for a man who otherwise isn’t. And one of his hands is on my shoulder, almost clutching me. And when he kisses me back, it’s this whole body thing where he just melts into me. Except before it’s started, it’s over, and Jonathan’s leaping away like a cat that’s been sprayed with a water bottle.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I say at the same time he says “I’m so sorry that happened.” Then I say, “I didn’t mean” and he says “I’m your” and it’s suddenly accelerating from awkward to completely fucked.
“And you have a concussion,” Jonathan concludes. “And amnesia. For all we know, you’ve got a boyfriend.”
“Well, if I have,” I throw back, “he’s fucking terrible because I’ve been missing for a week and he’s not texted.”
He’s turned away from me, which honestly I think is a bit over-dramatic. But I have been right all along. He looks good when he’s emotional, even more so when the emotion isn’t anger. “You’re in a vulnerable position,” he says. “And I’m taking advantage.”
This is tough enough without getting into the weeds of who’s responsible for what. Especially because what it comes down to isthat I kissed him because I wanted to, and I still do. “You’re not taking advantage. I just made a bad call in the moment.”
“One you wouldn’t have made,” he insists, “if you hadn’t recently had a sharp blow to the head.”
Maybe that’s the story I should go with. But it doesn’t seem fair somehow. Jonathan may be a dick but he doesn’t deserve to go through life thinking you have to be concussed to kiss him. “I’ve lost my memory, Jonathan. Not my marbles.”
“I’m also your boss.”
“Which is why I said it was a bad call. But, for what it’s worth, I don’t regret it.”
He’s facing me again now, all flushed and floppy haired. Maybe it’s just me but people look different after you’ve kissed them. Or you look at them differently at least. “It would be…” He sounds kind of lost. “It would be completely impossible and inappropriate.”
“I know that. But you should know”—and I can’t believe I’m saying this to Jonathan Forest and I can’t believe I mean it either—“for the record, like, that if I didn’t work for yez and I weren’t concussed and you were okay with it, I’d be doing it again.”
Jonathan just stares at me, as if he’s got no idea what to do or say. He’s not even tried to persuade me not to sue him, which is how I know he’s proper shook up. So I guess it’s on me to get us out of this. Which makes sense seeing as I got us into it.
“Look,” I try, “it doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
“Good,” says Jonathan, unconvincingly.
And I don’t know how to tell him I didn’t mean it like that. That I just mean it doesn’t have to make things difficult or whatever.
“Well,” he goes on. “I should—I’ve got work to get back to.”
And then he vanishes into the study, leaving me feeling shit and guilty. Because I should have known Jonathan isn’t the sort of man to take a kiss lightly.
Then again, neither am I.
CHAPTER 18
“What time do you call this?” Del yells across the room as Johnny saunters in at ten to twelve the next day.
“Sunday morning,” Johnny replies. He’s wearing the same sheepskin jacket he was wearing the last time, and, like last time, he doesn’t take it off.
Les gives his brother a look. It’s not even a look of disappointment—it’s gone through disappointment and out the other side. “The rest of us have been here since ten.”
They had. And it was a blessing in a way because it meant Jonathan and I didn’t have to spend too long Not Talking About What Happened The Previous Day. “I’ll get you a cup of tea,” I tell him.
“Anyway,” Johnny goes on, “I’m not the last.”
