“SOMEONE TOLD ME it’s your birthday in two weeks,” Lenic whispers into my ear. I draw my body back against his, lying next to him in his bed, satiated from a long night of sex.
Neither of us has dragged up the subject of his sister in the last month. We are both alike in that sense. Keeping quiet about the things that haunt us, that hurt us the most. Sweeping it under the carpet.
I am still with Lenic. I always will be. I love him.
Yes, he lied. Yes, I was angry and hurt. At first. But not once has he ever given me reason to believe he doesn’t love me, with all his beautiful ‘fucked-up’ heart. And losing Lenic would be at the cost of not forgiving him. And so I do. Things would be different, so very different, if Lenic didn’t feel remorseful for his sins — I see it in his dark eyes, the sadness — but he is. I don’t condone violence, but I understand forgiveness.
Isn’t that what you do? Forgive the ones you love?
I lay my head back against his chest, my hand stroking the inner side of his forearm. “Was this someone, sexy and French?”
He twirls a finger around my hair. “French. I'm not about to say she was sexy. I like my banana where it is, just fine. Besides … once you go Felicity, there’s nothing sexier.” I hear the grin in his gravelly voice and my own expression mirrors the sentiment. He bites my shoulder to underline his point. “Are you the sort of girl that unwraps her present in a hurry?” he whispers in my ear, guiding my hand gently up his leg. “Or … squeezes it first, to see if you can guess what’s inside?” I giggle flirtatiously when my hand reaches his inner thigh.
“I shake it hard and only open the big ones.”
He laughs out loud in that sexy, beautiful way he does, reserved for my ears only. “So? What can I get you, beautiful?”
I think for a moment, neatly rolling over so that I am facing him. I slide a leg over his and place a kiss in the centre of his chest, watching him thoughtfully. “I’ve got everything I need or want. But there is something you can do for me. Something I proposed to Mary Whitethorn for the Youths At Risk charity. She’s given me the go ahead. If I get the OK from you.”
“For that charity — anything.” His sister’s battle with bipolar explains his involvement and sincerity with the charity, something I’ve wondered since his speech at the fundraiser.
When I reveal exactly what is required from him, his response is instantaneous. “Hell no.” He is looking at me with sincere disbelief on his face.
“Lenic. You need to know your talent and how to project that talent.”
“No.”
Looking up at him through my eyelashes, my mouth turns down in a frown. “Oh … OK then … Never mind…”
He scoffs lightly. “Stop looking at me like that,” he grins.
“I'm not looking at you like anything,” I laugh shortly.
His hands fist themselves into my hair as he kisses me, and keeps on kissing me until I am moaning into his mouth, and my body makes urgent little movements against his. “You’re too goddamn cute for your own good, Hazelnut. For my own goddamn good.” His shoulders shake from chuckling.
I find myself grinning, and as soon as he grudgingly nods his assent, conceding with a hefty grunting “Fine,” I squeal, launch myself at him, and throw my arms around his neck.
“You’ll love it.”
Two weeks later…
“I HATE IT,” Lenic grits out. “I feel like a piece of meat.”
“We’re two giant finger-licking sausages to these girls,” Cross comments proudly. He slaps Lenic on the back. “C’mon, mate. Can’t be as bad as the video of you washing your balls to the world, can it?”
“Shit worse. At least parts of me were blurred out.”
“No one’s forcing you, princess. You need to be less precious.”
Lenic scowls. “I was pushed into this, man. No way in Hell would I do this by choice.”
Cross barks out a laugh. “Did the Mrs threaten to cut you off from her sweet sauce?”
“Don’t be thinking about my girlfriend’s sweet — and why in the hell are you holding a hammer? We’re washing cars not fixing them.”
“Because I want to hammer you, Big Man.” Cross shoots Lenic a quick pout and chuckles. “No, calm yourself. I’m putting up the new bag in the gym later. No rest for the wicked, mate.”
I turn to Delphine. “This is going to be a very memorable birthday,” I say to her. “I would have gotten myself a boyfriend a long time ago if I knew how much fun they could be.”
Today, I am hosting a charity car wash in the car park behind Lenic’s gym. All money raised will be donated to the Youths At Risk charity. Lenic and Cross managed to sweet-talk a few of their Royal Marine friends and a couple of guys at the gym to partake alongside them.
Delphine and I insisted we were to pick and choose who made the cut. We spent a whole night drinking wine, sat in front of the computer, cruising the pictures Cross sent me, selecting the best looking faces and the buffest bodies. Delphine put a few to the side for personal business.
I spot the guy she slotted at the top of her Favourite List, a Royal Marine, and nudge her with my elbow, angling my head in his direction. A smile spreads across her mouth as she gives him a slow perusal. She smoothes down her hair, and asks me to check her make-up.
I hear Cross clear his throat and I glance over at him. “Blake’s got chlamydia,” he states.
Delphine places a hand on her hip, narrowing her eyes. “How can you possibly know that?” Cross shrugs a confident shoulder.
“I know how Cross knows,” I say to Delphine. “He was intimate with Blake once, and Blake had to call and inform all his sexual partners.” Delphine and I laugh.
“If it turns my sex kitten on — believe it.” My friend rolls her eyes, but can’t hide the deep blush rising on her cheeks.
If that box hasn’t been opened already, it will be by tonight.
“Seriously. Tell me again — why the hell do we have to be topless?” Lenic barks.
Standing up from behind the proceeds table, I walk around to the foot of the table and smile over at him. “Because, it is hot,” I say, wiping the sweat from my forehead, the sun beating down hard today. “In more ways than one.”
I bite down on my lip seductively and hear him groan. On tiptoes, I smoothe my hand along the side of his head, while I glance at him with that look in my eyes, a look reserved for the bedroom. He tries to kiss me, but I thwart him by shoving a sponge between us. It doesn’t stop him. His eyes hood and he leans in. Thinking he is going to kiss me, my mouth parts a little, but then the corner of his lips curl. He is teasing me, his lips hovering so close to mine, waiting for me to make the first desperate move.
He is always in control.
I fight the urge to give in, and manage to lean back and say, “Earn it.”
He smiles, licks his lower lip, his gaze on my mouth. “How?”
“Live up to your looks. What else are you going to use that face for?”
“I use it for you to sit on.”
“Mmmmm,” I moan. “But first, spray your big hose over Cross and rack in the money.”
He bites his lip, flicks his gaze to my eyes. “You my pimp now?” His voice is gravelly, and I wonder briefly if we have time for a quickie inside the gym locker room.
I stifle a groan of pleasure. “A bit of roleplaying is good for a relationship,” I manage to say, clearing my throat. Now it is my turn to smile. It draws one from his lips. His whole face brightens with it.
He knows the effect his smile has on me, and his gaze lazily drops to my lips again. “For someone who’s never been in a relationship…” I let out a soft moan when he gently grinds his body against mine, his touch causing a heat to rush down into my underwear. “…you’ve got a whole lot of knowledge.”
“I read it in your copy of Bloke magazine.” I nip at his bottom lip, unable to resist it, while I give his buttocks a smack. There is no give to his beautiful arse, and my hand actually hurts. “Get to work, Marine. I want to see those women dropping more cash in the tip buckets—”
He groans against my lips as he slides his tongue into my mouth. I flick my tongue across those beautiful white teeth and suck his bottom lip with both of mine. He always tastes delicious, whether he is fresh out from the shower or coming home after a hard days work. There is nothing as wonderful as tasting Lenic Reevus. He is the epitome of a man's man, and right now, and always, he is all mine to taste.
His minty fresh breath explodes on my tongue, and with just a small taste of me, I know it will take more than a kiss to satisfy him.
I know him.
“OK … see you,” he mumbles against my lips, pulling away for a second.
“See you...” I am smiling so wide, my cheeks begin to hurt.
His hands tangle into the back of my hair, holding me in place so I can’t escape. He slants his mouth over mine again. I sigh as a shudder goes through my whole body and I fall slack against him, my mouth moving against his. My arms move to wrap around his neck as he deepens the kiss, almost lifting me off the ground.
“He's only gonna be a few metres away from you to wash the cars, Felicity,” I hear Cross call out from somewhere. “Stop sucking his face.”
“Leave them alone,” Delphine protests. “I think it is romantic.” I hear her swoon with a sigh. “Wish I had what they have.”
“Well, I’m right here, baby. What are your other two wishes?”
“A global ban on bad pick-up lines, for a start.”
Their voices fade away as Lenic groans against my mouth and pulls me tighter to him, his tongue demanding more. Always more. “You’re brilliant, and gorgeous and sexy,” he says through his kisses.
“You should go,” I murmur breathlessly, kissing his neck.
“Mmmmm,” he groans huskily. “You're not making this easy.”
“What?” I smile innocently, rolling my hips gently against his body.
“You know what.” He rubs his nose with mine, shooting me a stop-acting-so-innocent look.
“It's just a goodbye kiss.”
He leans in, his lips curving, and with a voice that hits my G-spot, he says, “Feels more like hello.”
He kisses me again, but this time it is harder and rougher. He needs to stop now or he will end up taking me in front of everyone against the proceeds table. He slowly winds the kiss down until he is only sipping at my lips. He raises his head, taking in my passion-glazed eyes, my red swollen lips and flushed cheeks.
I swallow the moisture in my mouth. “Go…”
“OK ... Bye...” His voice is just above a sexy whisper. He kisses me once, twice, three times before he pulls away, growling softly in protest.
“Bye…” I nip at my bottom lip, tasting him on me.
Lenic smiles at me and kisses me quickly on the lips, before unwinding himself from our little love space. He turns and straight-arms Cross out of his way, getting back to work. I continue taking the proceeds with Delphine, and hand out free drinks and food that Marge’s café kindly offered to everyone participating.
Halfway through the day, the charity car wash is a huge success. The car park is teeming with cars being washed by good-looking topless buff men, and there is a long queue of cars waiting in line. At least ninety-five per cent of customers have been, and are, women, with gay men and the fans of The Tempest filling up the rest. The last customer had driven thirty miles just to get an autograph and his car washed by The Tempest. Vanessa Marsden and her gossip club arrived first thing in the morning, asking specifically for Lenic Reevus.
Taking a short refreshment break with me, Lenic polishes off his homemade lemonade just as Cross struts over with a shit-eating grin on his face. “You’re never gonna believe this, Big Man.” He points over his shoulder towards a group of elegant women, standing by a red Jaguar. “Those three older women said they’ll pay triple if we wash their Jag together.”
“What’d you mean?” Lenic grunts, itching the side of his head, confused and irritated.
“They mean — they want to watch you hold my hose while I bring on the water show.”
“The hell I will. Why’d they want us to wash it together?”
“I think it’s more they wanna see us wash each other. Not the car.”
“The only goddamn bloke I want to wash is me.”
I shake my head, remembering my boyfriend chooses fishing over porn. “Lenic,” I cut in. “Triple. They are going to pay triple. So I want you wet. Dripping. Bending over. And scrubbing that Jaguar.”
“Yeah, girl,” Cross grins.
Lenic closes his eyes, heaves out an exasperated sigh, crosses his arms over his chest, and squares his jaw to calm himself down.
Classic Tempest.
I really do love him this way, sometimes.
My body starts bubbling with laughter, Cross and Delphine joining in. Cross slaps his hand twice on Lenic’s shoulder and tells him, “Smile for the camera, mate. You and I are gonna go global.”
“What’d you mean?” Lenic hisses.
“Dude, your girlfriend is England’s next top vlogger. What’d you think I mean?”
I reach into my tote bag and unveil my camera with a devilish smirk. “I can’t let my viewers miss out on all the fun, can I? And all the earnings from the views will go to the cause.”
I snap a photo of a grinning Cross, with his arm around Lenic’s shoulders, pointing a thumb up. Lenic, on the other hand, is scowling at the camera. I upload it straight to all of my social media sites.
“Lenic, grab Cross’ hose and put a smile on his face,” I say. Everyone but The Tempest finds it funny.
A rumble grows in my boyfriend’s throat. “I am going to make you all pay for this one day,” Lenic sneers, turning, and heads towards the group of women standing eagerly by their Jaguar. He smiles at them, makes polite conversation, keeping his discomfort hidden from the customers. Despite his hard exterior, he has a soft centre.
The Tempest is out of his comfort zone, but he is making the best of it. Perhaps, deep down, I hope he is enjoying it secretly.
“He gives good customer service,” I notify Delphine. “I am a very satisfied regular customer. Five stars for delivery. Five for quality. Five for the size of his packaging, and five for quantity — if you know what I mean.” She rolls her eyes but laughs, shaking her head.
Watching the group of women by the Jaguar talking with Lenic and Cross, Delphine comments, “I’d be so jealous if that was my boyfriend.”
“Lenic is possessive enough for the both of us.”
“I wish I could be more like you, Flick. Calm and collective. It would drive me crazy watching other girls ogling my boyfriend, trying to flirt with him.”
“I think of it like this: One — I don’t blame them, they’re only human after all. Two — he’s not flirting back. And three — he is my boyfriend. I’m the one who’ll be sleeping with him tonight. Not them. I get to squeeze his big—”
“OK, OK — I get it. TMI, Flick.” She shakes her head vigorously.
“I was going to say big arms, FYI.”
“Yes, sure you were,” she laughs.
A short moment passes. “I’m not as calm and collective as you think,” I admit. “Why do you think I’m dressed like this?” I’m wearing a skin-tight strapless white crop top, paired with teeny tiny Daisy Dukes and white stiletto heels. I sweep a hand across my outfit. “This is to remind Lenic where it’s at.”
She shakes her head. “You are so vain, Flick.”
“Nuh-uh. Remember our JUICED motto? I am body positive. There’s a difference.”
I smile towards a young blonde girl approaching our table. "How much is it to have Lenic Reevus wash my car?" Despite charging nearly double for the well-loved celebrity, The Tempest is the most popular request. His line of cars is pouring out from the car park.
“Basic package starts from twenty pounds. But there is another extra you can get now.” I nod my head in the direction of the Jaguar. “Let’s call it the Double Team wash.” I pick up my marker pen and scribble ‘Double Team’ onto the board listing all the services we are offering.
The blonde girl beams at us, fumbles in her purse, then hands over her money across the table. "I’d like the Lenic Reevus Special, please. Oh my god, I can’t believe this. I’ve come all the way from Gateshead just for this. This is so freaking exciting. Lenic Reevus is like totally my idol.”
I look at her and smile. “He’s my idol too. He is also my boyfriend.”
My boyfriend…
I will never tire of saying or hearing this. And neither will I ever tire of hearing Lenic tell everyone I am his girlfriend. Whenever someone needs something, or a customer needs to pay, he will always say, “Go see my girlfriend. She’s the one hosting the event. That beautiful girl over there in white.”
He wants the world to know as much as I do. There is just something truly wonderful in all of this.
As soon as Lenic’s fan-girl finds out I am uploading this event onto my JUICED channel, in two seconds flat, she pulls out her phone and hits the subscribe button. Nodding my head in approval, I get to my feet, camera in hand, and wander over to the Jaguar — which suddenly has a very large, very enthusiastic crowd circling it — and start filming. I’ve got a good feeling this is going to earn the charity a killing online.
Unlike Lenic, who is washing the car properly, Cross gives it gumption, playing to the audience. Best friends, Lenic and Cross are complete opposites. Lenic knows he is a knockout, but he isn’t usually vain or cocky or arrogant with it.
Cross is.
And he is playing it to the best of his advantage.
I film as Cross reaches for the sponge in the bucket, slaps it onto the car, and leans seductively over the bonnet to scrub the vehicle. His pecs on display, he keeps eye contact with the audience.
“Jealous?” I ask Delphine, feeling her bristle beside me.
“No,” is her clipped answer.
Cross crouches down by the front wheel, grinds his backside along the car as he stands back up, deliberately letting his jeans imprint on the window.
“For goodness sakes,” Delphine mutters, “he is outrageous.”
“Sex sells,” I remind her. “And don’t forget, he is doing it for a good cause.”
“Yes, OK, but Lenic is doing all the work here, Flick. Jack is just taking his sponge and dabbing it over his body, getting soaked with soapy suds everywhere.” Her observation is right, and when I turn the camera on Lenic, I grin wide. His expression is priceless.
“Cross, come on,” Lenic hisses. “This isn’t a goddamn strip joint.”
“You wanna rethink that, mate?” Cross says. “Dude, you’re topless and wet — with women, and yeah, a few guys as well, throwing money at us.” Cross flashes him a cocky grin. “You’d better be wearing a thong under those sexy cargo trousers of yours, Mr Hotty In The Shower. I hear they’re a real crowd pleaser.”
I hear a rumble emanate from Lenic’s throat. “Wash the damn car.”
“I am washing.” Cross smirks, holding up his sponge, giving Lenic a big appreciative grin.
“Yeah, you’re washing your body — not the damn car,” Lenic spits back. “Quit having sex with the Jag and clean it.”
“Hey, Big Man, it’s all in aid of charity, right? I’m bringing a bucket-load of tips here. And if you gayed up with me, we’d been rolling in the dosh.” Cross points a finger at Lenic. “Too much thinking about your reputation and not enough on the cause, mate.”
Lenic scowls and stabs an angry finger to the far side of the car park. “Listen, mate. I’ve got three times as many cars waiting for me to wash.” By the look of the new massive queue that has appeared in Lenic’s designated area, he will be washing cars for a long time, even after the car wash event is scheduled to finish.
“Okaaaaay, Mr Popular,” Cross says, and a cacophony of laughter ripples throughout the crowd.
When Cross bends slowly down to reach for his hosepipe, a woman with red hair calls out, “Can we see a water fight with you two? We are paying you triple.” The crowd start cheering him on.
“Don’t you bloody dare,” Lenic growls. “And don’t you dare upload it,” he adds, levelling a finger at me.
I try to steady the camera in my hands as my shoulders tremble from laughter. Cross’ grin gets bigger as he aims his hose, and before Lenic can hide behind the boot of the Jaguar, he presses his finger on the trigger, blasting my boyfriend. I rake my gaze appreciatively over Lenic’s dripping-wet muscular chest. But I am not the only one.
Let them ogle my boyfriend, I think. Let them try and flirt. Let them take pictures and videos to their heart’s content, because Lenic isn’t interested, in the least. And I am the one who gets to be screwed by my idol tonight.
My boyfriend.
Lenic growls, fetches his bucket of soap and water, and drops the entire contents over Cross’ head. Another laughter rips through the crowd.
“Now that’s more like it, Big Man,” Cross cheers, suddenly slinging his arm around Lenic’s shoulders and gives him a big kiss on the cheek.
“Get off of me, man,” Lenic protests, pushing Cross away from him. “I swear — if this hits the tabloids again, I’ll end you.”
“Mate, you’re worth it.”
“Killing you isn't even an option.” Lenic clicks his tongue in contempt, but I see a hint of a smile on his features. “What’s wrong with you, man?” he starts to chuckle softly. “You need a girlfriend. ASAP.”
“I’m trying, mate. I really am. My little soldiers are fighting hard to penetrate those walls. But France is built like a fortress.”
“Penetrate? If you’re using words like ‘penetrate’ to seduce a girl, well — there’s your problem right there,” Lenic laughs.
I smile wide, watching the customers chucking in pound coins and five-pound notes into the tip boxes, urged on by the entertainment. I turn my gaze back onto my boyfriend and a rush of butterflies swarm in my stomach.
The Tempest has abandoned ship and, instead, Lenic is on deck laughing.
In public.
He is incredibly, heartbreakingly handsome when he laughs like this. It is a sound that makes my insides feel like they've been tossed into a hot air balloon.
When he turns to me, a slow sweet smile spreads across his perfect mouth. Approaching him, he takes one look at my face before his face lights up. I wrap him up in my arms, because I feel like he deserves it just for being him in this moment.
I lean into his body that presses up against me and close my eyes, just for a moment, as his cologne fills my head. I have always liked the smell of Lenic, but ever since I fell in love with him, it just sort of … does things to me.
He kisses the top of my head, and holds my hand in his good-old-fashioned Lenic way. Several of the girls in the crowd look like I’ve just crushed their hopes and dreams.
When it hits closing time, the rest of the boys help out Lenic. He is still swamped with a long line of cars. An hour later, I load the last bucket into the van Lenic hired and perch myself on the edge of the van’s boot. I toe off the flip-flops I got changed into before, and replace them back with my stilettoes.
Watching Lenic scrub down the last car, in nothing but cargo trousers and a bare chest, my body starts to respond to him. It always does when he is around. It doesn’t matter what he is doing. I’ve spent the whole day in a constant state of arousal. Lenic is going to have to help fix this by tonight.
I approach him, my heels clicking on the stone ground, admiring the view that never gets old or tiresome. He sprays down the Jeep and before he reaches for the sponge, I grab it and do the little drop-the-sponge routine to get his attention. I drop the sponge, bend down low, sure to flash him a good view of my cleavage, before giving him a sexy smile and getting back up again, slowly. I hand it to him with a lascivious look on my face. He shakes his head, wiping the sponge over the hood of the car.
“Thought you were gonna help me then.”
I tilt my head and squint at him. “I am not what the customer paid for. Sorry. You know I would have.” He gives me his yeah-and-pigs-fly look. “Look, maybe we can do a girl-only car wash next time.”
I hear him growl. “I’d say you can’t get involved, but that’ll just make you wear that tiny red bikini when you do it, huh?”
“You’re getting to know the real me.” I hear him mutter an expletive under his breath, but he says it with a grin. He stops wiping with the sponge and suddenly hurls it, smacking me in the chest, leaving a large wet soapy stain on my white top. My jaw drops as I glance down and notice my nipples showing through.
Finishing the customer’s car, Lenic thanks them and signs his autograph on a Tempest T-shirt before walking over to me. “Hmmm, I think I need to rethink my view on you doing a car wash.” His eyes travel down the length of my body, stilling on my nipples.
I pick up the sponge and give him a fierce look. “Do you really think I’m going to let you get away with that, scot-free?” I throw the sponge back at him, nailing him on the head, then sashay my way over to fetch the hose in my hands. I point it towards his chest like a gun.
“Don’t,” he warns. “Put the hose down, Hazelnut. Or you’ll be sorry.”
“I am going to say … no.” I press my finger on the hose trigger, blasting Lenic, aiming between his legs, which I know will make him mad. Laughing, I take my finger off the trigger.
“Do you think that’s funny?”
“I do.” He struts over to me. “No. Lenic, no. Do not hug me. You’re all wet and dirty.”
“Come here. I want to hug my girlfriend.”
“No, don’t,” I squeal. He lunges towards me. I drop the hose and rush towards the nearby tree. He grabs me from behind and picks me up, spinning me around, laughing the entire time. He sets me down and I turn around and smack him on his chest. “Look at what you’ve done, Lenic,” I reproach. “I’m wet.”
“You’re not wet enough.” He leans down and kisses me. It’s not a soft, gentle kiss. It is a punishing you’ve-been-a-naughty-girl kiss. He pulls back slowly, brushing my hair away from the side of my face.
Checking first that no one can see us behind the thick bark of the tree, he slowly reaches his hand inside my shorts and I feel two fingers slide against my clit. I let out a soft gasp. A few firm strokes, he leans in and whispers huskily in my ear, “Now you’re wet enough.” I whimper in protest when he withdraws his hand. He sucks his finger, and the dark sexy look that flashes across his face leaves me panting and breathless. “I could live off just from the taste of your pussy.”
As if his own desire is too much to bear, he pushes me against the bark of the tree with just his hips and growls hoarsely, “I’m gonna clean that last car so damn fast, and then I’m taking you upstairs to my office in the gym so I can take you in those white heels. Otherwise, I will take you right now up against this tree.” He shuts his eyes tight and groans throatily, “Christ … you really do kill me in white…” When we turn to round the bark of the tree, he suddenly restrains me against his solid hard body. “We’re not leaving here until your top dries. No way in Hell am I letting other men see my girlfriend’s sweet perfect tits.”
HALF AN HOUR later, the charity car wash finally comes to an end, a little later than planned. Sitting on the wooden bench just outside the back entrance of the gym, I let my hair down and rub my sore feet. The pain is worth it considering the magnetic power my Louboutin stilettos have over my boyfriend.
I glance over to the far side and smile, watching Cross and Delphine stand close together, alone, talking and flirting. On the other side, Lenic is thanking his friends for volunteering and inviting them over to the White Lily bar for free drinks.
I stare down at the blank screen on my iPhone, and feel a painful tightening in the pit of my stomach. My smile soon fades and another feeling takes over. An empty kind of feeling, the sort of feeling you get when you’ve lost something or something’s been stolen from you. This has been one of the best birthdays I have celebrated, but I am left with a deep hole inside my heart.
I've spent this special day with Grandpa and West every single year, and now I will never get to celebrate with my grandfather ever again. It is days like these that make reality come crashing down on me. It is hard enough to deal with Grandpa’s absence, but this isn’t the cause of my sorrow. Death is a part of life, unfortunately, but I have come to accept it. West could have attended my birthday charity event.
He chose not to.
I am not mad at West. I understand it’s painful for him, but it feels like I am missing a limb. All day I’ve been wishing for my brother to call again and come down to share my birthday with me, just like he has done for the last ten years. Apart from one phone call this morning to wish me happy birthday, I haven’t heard from him. I haven’t seen him since his confession on the bridge, either. It took every last ounce of faith I had to leave him that day, West assuring me he would be fine. But he isn’t fine. Lenic isn’t fine. I’m not fine.
Heaviness settles over my shoulders and I hang my head, rubbing at the temples of my forehead. I feel an arm wrap around my shoulders and the weight of the bench below me sinks and creaks.
“Hey, birthday girl. You alright? Got a headache?”
I raise my head and offer a half smile to my boyfriend. “I just miss Grandpa … Every year he would bake me a big chocolate cake.” I smile faintly at the memory. “I miss him so much.”
Lenic leans over and kisses me on the lips. It is gentle, no lust or need or desperation in it, just simple affection. He pulls me closer and I go to him, laying my head against his chest, like we belong like this. It is like we’ve had a magnet implanted that pulls us together all the time.
I close my eyes and feel him kissing the top of my head, draining some of the tension out of me. I finger the new charm on my parents’ bracelet. A birthday present from Lenic, it’s a little delicate diamond swan with his initials engraved into it. He knows this bracelet carries most of my love, and his gift is his way of letting me know that he wants to be a piece of it. It is truly beautiful, and simply perfect. He is perfect.
“You’re beautiful,” he tells me again, though I will never tire of this compliment. I pull back and look up at him. “For this.” His eyes sweep the car park. “To do this for your birthday.” He shakes his head faintly, smiling. “I love how selfless you are. How kind you are.”
His hand goes to my hair, wrapping my loose waves around his finger as he looks down at me with that completely gone look on his face, the one he always seems to have these days.
I let out a tired breath. “My aunt never let me celebrate my birthday. So every year, on this day, I spend it doing charity to help other children.”
He lightly brushes the side of my cheek in a gentle caress. “You’re the kindest person I know.”
I shake my head. “Today wouldn’t have been such a big success if it wasn’t for you and your friends. You’ve all worked so hard today. Thank you. It … I can’t express enough in words what it means to me.”
He kisses me gently on the lips, and I smile back at him. “Listen, I know I can’t bake good like your grandpa — but I got Marge’s Café to bake you a chocolate cake.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. I did. After you told me what happened, I just thought it’d be a neat idea to get you one for today. It’s waiting for you at home.”
I raise my brow. “Home?”
“I meant my place.”
A shiver runs through my spine, and I feel a wave of happiness spread through my core that wasn't there a few minutes ago.
Home.
He said home.
He pulls me in for a short meaningful kiss, and I know that home is wherever those lips are, wherever Lenic is there to hold me. I only hope I can offer the same home to him for as long as we both draw breath.
“My place is your home,” he adds. And then he smiles. It is the kind of smile that rips a hole in your heart — lips, teeth, and sparkling eyes … Wow, he really could put you in a trance with just that smile. He reaches out to me and I naturally go to him, fitting comfortably against his body, in the circle of his arm.
After a long moment, he quietly says, “You’re really not OK, are you?” I glance up to see his warm eyes watching me patiently, but there is also a certain amount of concern in his gaze.
A satirical smile tugs at the corners of my lips. "Isn't that what you've always thought? That I’m a little cuckoo."
When life gets tense, I tend to bury my head under the sand, under a layer of jokes and self-mocking to cover up the hurt. It always works. I start to laugh softly, but when I look in his eyes, I don't see even a hint that he is laughing along with me.
“Don’t.”
“Don't what?”
“Don’t think I haven’t picked up on it. You turn the conversation into a joke whenever things get tough.” I chew my bottom lip. No one has ever called me out on my bullshit. Ever. “You’re not OK.”
Doubts whisper in my ear, but I quickly gather my thoughts. “I am. I’m always happy when I’m with you. You make me feel like I’m the luckiest girl alive, and I love being your girlfriend. I love telling the world that you are my boyfriend. How can I not be OK when I have you in my life?”
“I’m not talking about us.” The conviction in his voice does nothing to quell the fear that sets my stomach churning. I glance at my phone and think for a long moment.
No one can love on a sinking boat. And I love him so. But there are some things that just won’t float, no matter how much you want it in your bones.
I feel it.
I feel a loss is coming my way.
I exhale, and glance up at him. Forcing out a smile, I tell him my biggest lie, keeping my fears to myself. “I’m OK.” It is the answer I keep giving myself to prevent from going insane.
But I am not OK. And the very heavy lead weight that sits in my gut grows bigger and bigger.
I lied to him.
Why did I lie to him? Lenic is sweet, honest, and loyal, the kind of man I wasn’t aware I longed to meet or fall in love with.
Is this my future? Am I destined to celebrate birthdays, Christmas, and other holidays without West? Without Lenic? Without someone I love?
I am torn between loyalties. Torn between the bond I have with my brother and the man I have fallen in love with. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. In my heart, I know. I just know. And the realisation brings a painful truth. That one day I will have to make a choice and it will be the death of me.
But I can’t. I can’t choose one or the other. There is only one way this can be resolved, I realise. There is only one way I get to keep them both.
But I fear, I am asking for the impossible.