His car filled with a pressurising discomfort while he drove me home. I stared out the window, my body turned away from him. I was seething with anger, my nails digging into the soft flesh of my palm as I struggled to contain my emotions.
He pulled up in my driveway, and I threw my seatbelt off and jumped out before he’d even stopped the car. I unlocked my door in record time and slammed it shut before hiding myself in sleep.
Sunday was a total write off. I woke with a splitting headache, which evolved into a killer of a migraine. I buried myself in my bed, stuffing my phone in my sock drawer. By the time Monday morning came around, I felt no better. The thought of facing a day at work and him only ensured I called in sick. I spoke to Molly, batting off her offers of coming to see me at lunch.
I fell back asleep after swallowing a mountain of pills. Sometime later, an incessant banging on my front door disturbed my peaceful slumber. I sighed and heaved myself out of bed, cursing Molly for not listening to me when I told her to leave me be.
I opened the front door and froze when I saw Paul stood there. I scowled at him before shutting the door in his face. Unfortunately, he stuck his foot in the door, pushing his way inside.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I clutched at my head and backed away from him. “Leave me alone, Paul.”
He closed the door behind him, walking towards me with a hand outstretched to me. “I was worried about you.”
I gazed into those soulful blue eyes of his, losing myself for a moment. That was all it took for him to touch me and before I knew it, I was succumbing to his gentle touch on my cheek.
“Get off me.” I pushed his hand away, my head only hurting more as tears threatened to flood me again. “Don’t touch me.”
He backed away a couple of steps, concern written all over his handsome face. “I thought you were avoiding me.”
“Please. Don’t flatter yourself that my world revolves around you.”
I padded into the kitchen, searching out more tablets. A pounding thud resounded through my head and I clasped at it with a painful groan.
His arms scooped around my waist as my knees buckled. “Are you okay?”
I fought him off me. “Do I look okay to you?”
He pursed his lips before he backed away a couple of steps. “Do you need anything?”
“I thought I made my feelings about where we stood perfectly clear.”
“I want to help you—”
“Then disappear.”
Silence fell between us for a moment. “You didn’t reply to any of my texts.”
“Well, considering I spent all day yesterday like this, I wasn’t really in the mood for anything, let alone dealing with you.”
“I’m sorry, Kyra. I never wanted any of this to happen. I just…I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Since when does company policy require a director to come to an employee’s house when she calls in sick anyway?”
He dropped his eye contact, looking at the floor as he nodded. “Okay. I’ll go.”
I didn’t even bother to dignify him with a response. I just crawled back to bed. I didn’t move from my bed at all for the rest of the day. Calling in sick again on Tuesday, I prayed to God he wouldn’t make an appearance today as well. My prayers were answered—in part. Bombarding me with texts instead was as much of a headache as having him appear randomly on my doorstep.
Ash called me late in the afternoon. When I told him what had gone on, he nearly exploded with excitement in his car.
“I’m coming round. I’ll bring food.”
I sighed as he burst through my front door a couple of hours later. The delicious smell of fish and chips came in with him, easing my low mood to a degree. I was famished considering I’d not eaten for two days.
He grinned, lifting up the bag. “Hungry?”
“I could eat a scabby cat.” I frowned when he served our food on the dining table. “What are you doing back anyway?”
“We decided to live up here in my house.” He took a bite of his fish. “Anyway, less of that. Paul. Wow, do I have some news for you.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
A beaming smile folded over his lips. “Well, when you told me about what happened, it suddenly clicked. When I first met him, I knew I’d seen him somewhere before but I couldn’t remember where. Then when you said about his parents and the business, it dawned on me.”
He jumped from his chair, retrieving my laptop from the other side of the room. He tapped away for a few seconds before spinning the screen round.
“Is that his dad?” Ash asked.
I looked at the screen, almost choking on my own breath when I saw Roger’s rugged face staring back at me from the homepage of a website. A stunning blonde accompanied him in the picture. I guessed she was Paul’s mum.
“What the hell is this?”
“His parents own the biggest swingers’ club in the country. They own a string of night clubs up and down the country for straights, gays, bis—anything goes. They are the bees knees when it comes to fulfilling your greatest desires. Then they have an exclusive level club, which is where all the really wild stuff happens. It’s called The Triple C. You have to be accepted into this circle—you can’t just join. There are certain…parameters you must meet.”
“What? Are you actually being serious?”
He nodded. “Read it.”
I browsed through the website, reading the long list of locations for their nightclubs which included The Tiger’s Eye. Nearly every major city had one of their clubs. I was stunned into silence as I dared to click on the link for The Triple C. It refused me access, inviting me to set up an account to view further information.
I spun the laptop back round. “It won’t let me in. What is it?”
He grinned. “It’s basically a club for couples who want to indulge their fantasies with other couples. They do allow singles in but not many. You have to be something exceptional. Being good looking is a must for getting in there. Apparently they keep files on everyone—they ask your deepest darkest fantasies, what you do and don’t like, and match you to similar minded people. Basically, they’re sex match makers.”
“That’s…weird.”
“But genius if you think about it. How many marriages fall apart because one of them isn’t getting their fantasies fulfilled so they go off and pay some hooker or escort to do it with them? This is a way for couples to accept each other’s fantasies and let them be acted out safely, properly, and with no lies, sneaking around, or anything else. They’ve apparently saved a lot of relationships.”
“From letting wives see other women sleep with their husbands? I just don’t get it, Ash. It’s wrong on so many levels.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It works both ways. A lot of men get off watching their wife with someone else. It’s just human nature. We’re all different.”
“What does Triple C stand for?”
He grinned. “Crave, Choose, Come.”
“Ewww!”
He laughed at my reaction as he continued eating his food.
“So what is your point of telling me all this?”
“To try to make you see it’s not some seedy gig like you’re thinking. It’s just adults who are free with themselves and comfortable with letting their partners be with other people. There is a massive difference between having sex with someone and being with someone in a relationship. For these people, it’s just a simple division, as easy as that.”
“How do you know so much about all of this anyway?”
“A gay friend of mine got into The Triple C with his partner.”
I suddenly remembered how Paul had noticed straight away that Ash was gay. That was how he knew—he was around all sorts all of the time.
“This is just too much. What am I supposed to do with this information?”
“Make an informed decision.”
“About what exactly?”
“I don’t know. Paul…whether you fancy trying it out or not.”
“You are kidding me right? Please tell me you are kidding?” I was beyond mortified my brother was even suggesting this to me.
“No, not at all. What have you got to lose? You’ll be in an exclusive club with direct links to the owners, not to mention sleeping with one of them. Not only that, you’ll be surrounded by other hot people who just want to have fun. You are freaked out about settling down, Paul doesn’t do relationships, so what’s the issue?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Did he put you up to this?”
“Who? Paul? No. I’m just looking at it from a different point of view, Kyra. What’s wrong in having some fun whilst you wait for Mr. Right to come along?”
I glared at him and stared down at the table. I didn’t know what to say because in all honesty, I couldn’t really argue against his point. I was single. If I was married or with a partner and being presented with all of this, then my reaction would be totally justified. But why was I freaking out about indulging myself with some gorgeous people with no strings attached?
“It just feels wrong. I’d just feel like a complete slag.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t worry, Ky. You and I both know of a certain someone who has had more pricks than a second hand dartboard and she still walks around with her head held high. There’s no way you’ll work your way past her number.”
“Ash. Stop it.”
“Right, anyway. Time for me to go. My programme starts in ten minutes and you need to go back to bed. You look like death warmed up.”
I rolled my eyes and we said our goodbyes. I found myself pondering over his words. Maybe I could make sense of all this with a clear head after a decent sleep.