He nodded; further words unnecessary. He knew what I was fighting with. A legacy that came before everything else. “Right,” he said, eyes to the floor. Hurt and lost but still with an understanding so deep it was like we were irrevocably connected to it. “Is Margot still with Stace?”
“She was,” a voice said, Stacey’s arms wrapped around me. “Now she’s waiting for you by the bar.”
“Well,” he said, pushing himself to his feet and adjusting his glasses. “Guess I’ll have to take her home then.”
“What?” I said, the words stinging and singeing as they settled and broke. “No. You don’t have to take her home.”
“I’ve got to keep up the pretence,” he replied, lifting a shoulder like he didn’t care, but I knew he did, he was unable to catch my eyes. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“You can’t, not after–”
“What?” he asked, meeting my glare. “After what, Skye?” He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Jesus, you really think I’m capable of taking another woman home and fucking her after what just happened between us?”
I tried to calm my chest, but it felt like my lungs were taking on their own life system. “I…I don’t know what to think.”
“Do you know me at all?” he asked, backing away, turning before quickening his pace as he disappeared back into the club.
A hand fell into mine and Stacey squeezed it, once, twice.
“Are you ready to talk?” she asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know where to start.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Which part?”
“Feelings,” she said, “that led to you…dry humping!” She held her hand out to the wall he’d pinned me against. How could something that caused me years of sleepless nights feel so right?
“I’ve questioned what I feel for a while.” She pushed my hair behind my ear.
“You’ve never done anything?”
“Flirting,” I replied, sighing. “It’s turned heavier over the last few weeks, particularly after I walked in on him masturbating on our sofa. His ass–” I pushed my fist to my mouth, “–glutes of steel.” She grimaced as I laughed.
“If you really like him, I think you should go for it,” she said. “You’re too cute not to be loved back and if his thrusting has anything to do with it, I’d say the feeling is definitely mutual.”
I twisted my lip between my fingers. “I’m pretty sure that’s changed now.”
“I was trying to piece it together,” she said, backing to the wall. “Margot’s offered you some help. Some equipment to do with the film?”
“Her studio and the facilities. Cameras, lighting, sets.”
“What does Will have to do with that?”
“She wanted a date in exchange.”
“Christ, she’s using him as a bargaining tool.” She laughed. “I’m seeing Will in a whole different light tonight.”
I sat on the floor and pulled her down to me. “There’s so much history. He was my lifeline after Elliott, Stace. The one who reminded me to keep my heart beating. The one who told me to take in air. What if we sleep together and fuck up all of that history? Who do I rely on then?”
“Hello?” She smiled, pointing to herself.
“You know you got me upright and somewhat normal again.”
“Somewhat?” she said. “Cheers for that.”
“But Stacey, as much as I love you, there will never be any fear that I’ll fuck up our friendship through sexytimes.”
“Never say never.”
“I’m sure you have a lovely vagina–”
“I do. Thank you.” I knew she was laughing underneath her neutral face.
“But I like cock and Will’s happens to be a fine specimen.” She made a gagging motion. “And that fine cock is attached to him.” She sat forward as I teared up. “And I really think or…really feel…”
“What?”
“That I’ve always fucking loved him.” She held me as I lost my mind. “Damn that man and those glasses and that arrow tattoo on his arm that is hot as fuck!”
“And the glutes. Don’t forget the glutes.”
We held hands, Stacey smiled, and Matt tried to be inconspicuous in the background. It didn’t work, but he was becoming as much a part of our inner circle as Will now. And it felt amazing to talk to Stace about my feelings, to get out my concerns and try to order them into what we could deal with first.
“Do you think he’ll sleep with her?”
“Skye, he’ll take her home like the gent he is and then he’ll probably head back to our flat for crisis talks.”
“Right,” I sighed, wishing the jealous part of me I hated hadn’t asked the question. “We better go and get another drink then.”
16
Will
I took Margot home, ensuring she was safe and assuring her that I’d be in touch. To her credit, she told me not to worry, said she thought I was too reserved for her and as I left her propping her front door open with her angled hip and crossed arms, she shouted after me, asking if I’d realised that I was deeply in love with Skye. I smiled and said I’d never been surer about anything in my life.
I thought about going back to Brighton, I could have done it in ninety minutes, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to face Skye again, not until I’d sorted through the pockets of detail from the night, trying to make sense of them before they all blurred together again.
Instead, I went back to my flat and distracted myself by talking bullshit with Gavin, who was still awake and preparing for the senior journalist interview. He’d been working on some photographs, pulling together a portfolio to share during the process. Tension formed across my shoulders and anxiety settled into my stomach. I’d had the call inviting me for an interview but hadn’t even started preparing for it. Bigger distractions were on my mind, but I joined him for the night, setting up my laptop and sharing boxed noodles, talking about the awkwardness of going for the same position until I woke in the morning, finding myself still on the sofa, a chopstick resting on my chest.
I didn’t just find a chopstick that morning. I found loneliness and despair, an ache I knew would never shift and a need to shut down the web of thoughts that contracted from driving to Brighton and telling Skye I loved her – had done from the first insult – to wondering if scientists had invented a way of cleansing my brain, wiping it clean, re-setting the factory settings so to speak, and making it devoid of emotion.
I also found a text message from Margot, telling me the studio had unexpectedly become free at the weekend. She asked me to let Skye know, and I asked her to make contact herself. Skye called not long after. Letting it go to voicemail, I listened to her message immediately.
“We’ve got the studio on Saturday night. Margot just called. She’s had a cancellation. I was just calling to…erm…well, to ask if you still wanted to be part of this. Let me know…OK. Talk soon.”