I spent the rest of the day on an unbelievable high. In pure Paul style, just as home time came around, he squashed any good feelings I enjoyed by revealing he was working tonight. The disdainful scowl that spread across my face said everything.
“You know I won’t be sleeping with anyone else, Kyra. Just relax.”
My internal war raged once again, making me wonder whether I could actually do this or not.
“It just feels wrong, Paul. You’re going to be in a house full of gorgeous women who are all up for anything that goes. It’s just…weird.”
He quieted for a minute. “Kyra, I don’t want to make an issue out of this. You are reacting to this like we’re in a relationship. It shouldn’t matter what I do when we’re not together; that’s the beauty of not being with someone like that. This is a perfect example of what I was talking about when I said I don’t do relationships.”
His words cut deep as he confirmed yet again he wasn’t interested in anything more than this “friends with benefits” situation. I knew we weren’t together but I still couldn’t help a tiny bit of hope rising that my Friday night would be filled with sex with my fuck buddy.
I grabbed my stuff before heading for the door. “Okay. Fine. But don’t expect me to jump when you click your fingers.”
I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night, which resulted in more hate-fuelled thoughts running round me. The more I thought about him and what he was doing whilst I was sat at home alone, the worse it got.
Saturday, I went for lunch with Ash, moaning to him about the recent happenings.
“You need to grasp the whole idea of this fuck buddy thing. If you can’t deal with it, then I think you need to reconsider.”
“But fuck buddies are usually at it at the weekends, are they not? That’s what most people do on a weekend. Except me, of course, because mine is too busy wanking over other people getting fucked.”
Ash laughed. “So join in, then. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em!”
“Seriously? Don’t go there again.”
His amused expression changed to a serious edge. “Have you heard from Mum?”
I narrowed my eyes as my jaw clenched. “No.”
“I know she’d love to hear from you…”
“Well, she has my contact details. It works both ways.”
He left the subject alone after that, departing not long after to trek down to London for Ben’s set tonight in the club. By four o’clock, I was back home, alone.
I sighed and resigned myself to going through old photo albums, reminiscing. It was a terrible idea as all I ended up doing was crying and wishing things had worked out differently. If only Dad hadn’t died, if only Scotch hadn’t died, if only Mum hadn’t married a toy boy and moved abroad, if only we still had a good relationship. If only, if only, if only; those two words were the story of my life.
Tim, Mum’s toy boy, was a good-looking guy. He was a proper cowboy and a damn fine one at that. The problem was he knew it. The age gap between them was nearly twenty years and I’d never quite figured out why he married my mum. Mum was gorgeous for her age. She took great pride in her appearance and she definitely didn’t look her fifty-two years. She had been married to him for two years now and we hadn’t actually spoken since the wedding.
The reason for that was that her delightful new husband deemed it appropriate to make a move on me, his new step-daughter, on his wedding night. He earned himself a kick in the nuts and me telling my mother what happened. She saw it all as a bunch of lies and me just reacting badly to her re-marrying. The smug look on his face when I left their ranch to fly back home was something that would always haunt me.
It had been too long now for either my mum or me to give in and pick up the phone. It hurt that she hadn’t believed me and it hurt that she picked him over me.
Ash didn’t know where to be in regards to it all, so he kept out of it. He liked Tim and didn’t know whether to believe me or not. Like me, though, he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t catch a woman his own age.
I was lost in my thoughts and beating down my rising anger when my phone chimed with a text.
Paul: Are you busy tonight? XXX
I snorted and ignored him. An hour later, I received another text.
Paul: I would love to see you. ;-) xxx
I hadn’t forgotten my warning to him yesterday about expecting me to jump when he clicked his fingers. So again, I ignored him. Not in the mood for cooking, I ordered Chinese. Several minutes later, a knock sounded on the front door. I frowned thinking how the food couldn’t even be cooked yet.
I opened the door, rolling my eyes at seeing Paul stood there.
“Hi.”
“What do you want?”
He smiled. “I came to see you.”
“No, you didn’t. You came here thinking you could get lucky after you ditched me last night. I thought I made myself quite clear when I said I wouldn’t be jumping when you clicked your fingers.”
He chuckled. “Okay. I can see this is a bad time.”
I raised an eyebrow as a response.
“Okay. I’ll…see you on Monday.”
“Yep.”
I slammed the door shut, feeling rather proud of myself. I’d barely sat down before my phone beeped with another text.
Paul: You know I could make you feel better. ;-) xxx
I smirked at his words and persistence but I refused to give in. I had to make a point. He couldn’t control me like a dog.
Me: Doesn’t mean you will. See you Monday.