Propping a pillow up, I lean against it and grab my coffee mug. “Sounds great. Breakfast in bed. I could get used to this.”
“You know for a fact you could give up that shitty job and become a lady of leisure, but your stubborn arse won’t have any of it.”
I smirk behind my coffee cup. Chris is like a bad version of Del Boy from Only Fools and Horses. He thinks one day we’ll be millionaires and run off into the sunset together, eventually getting married and having babies.
That last thought always makes me shiver inside, but I push that dark thought away and instead live in this playful moment with him. “Being a stubborn arse keeps you on your toes.”
Chris places a hand on the door, smiling back. “Ain’t that the truth.” He taps the door and walks out, leaving me alone with only my coffee and my thoughts for company. My mind quickly wanders to Charlie—which doesn’t take much—but after what happened yesterday, I’m more eager than ever to find out about the mystery behind the man. I’ve always had a strong inkling that he was more than just an antiques dealer. I’m guessing he served in forces of some kind, but I could be wrong. He’s such a closed shop that it makes me want to delve deeper. It’s his own fault. If he wasn’t so enigmatic then maybe I wouldn’t find him so… entrancing. He’s like a puzzle with most of the pieces missing. And I never let a puzzle stay unfinished. I’m stubborn like that.
I really shouldn’t let my mind wander to questions regarding Charlie, but it’s better than the alternative. Physically, I will get over my attack, but I’m sure it will remain a thread in my head for a while to come. I have no doubt that Chris will seek and enact justice on the three who did this to me. I just wish I didn’t have to live with memories of the attack running through my thoughts.
A few minutes run by, and then Chris appears with a tray full of scrambled eggs and toast. On the side is a glass of OJ.
“You spoil me too much.”
I pull myself up to allow Chris to place the tray on my lap. “I don’t spoil you enough.”
Chris has this insane notion that he doesn’t do enough for me, when in fact, it couldn’t be further from the truth. Whenever he’s with me, his focus and attention are always on me. His eyes either gentle with love or hooded with lust offer me all that had been lacking in my life up until he came into it. At home, I was only loved by my brother, so when he left, I had nothing. My mum died, and my dad grew more and more disinterested. The only other people I had left were my uncles. One of which—Pete—took an interest in me no uncle should. When given an opportunity, he would grab my waist, his hand sliding down to my arse where he would squeeze until he would hear that gasp that would instantly light up his sick, twisted eyes. He would always try and get me alone by suggesting he take me out to see a film or buy me some food. I would get hungry because we hardly had food in the house, but I was never that hungry. For a long while, I would always decline, because I knew for a fact that his groping would eventually turn to something more serious. I even lost my virginity to a boy I only semi-liked just so that my uncle wouldn’t get to me first. Unfortunately for me, things did get worse at home, and when Pete saw I was losing weight, he quickly realised I was starving, using that—big time—to his advantage.
By the time I was old enough to get a job, I left and never looked back. I cut all ties to everyone in Newham, moving only nine miles away. I figured when I left that they would believe I left London altogether. I have no idea if my dad or my uncle are looking for me. As long as my sleazy uncle never finds me, then I’ll be okay.
Ignoring Chris’s comment, I ask, “Did you give Michael all the details?” As much as I don’t want to think about what happened last night, I still want to know what’s going on.
“Yes, he’s looking into it.”
“Is he back with Tarryn now?”
Chris frowns. “How do you know about Tarryn?”
I roll my eyes at him. “Michael and I do talk, you know. We talked about her when you were passed out in the back of my car that night.” I’m guessing Chris doesn’t know how Brandon spoke to me that night. I haven’t said anything, and I’m guessing Michael hasn’t either since he’s not one to gossip. He will only speak when there’s something important to say.
“I don’t like the fact that you’re so pally with Michael that you know about his girlfriend troubles.”
And there it is. The green-eyed monster. It never takes much with Chris. “Do you not trust me?”
I’m being hypocritical. When it comes to Charlie, Chris should worry, but he never does. I assume it has something to do with the fact I lied and told him he was gay.
Yeah, I’m going to hell for that.
“I trust you, it’s Michael I don’t trust. He wants to fuck you, you know?”
A small giggle erupts from me. “You think every man wants to fuck me.”
“Talking of which, I thought you said your boss is gay?”
And there it is. The lie coming to the surface. “He is,” I answer, clearing my thought, developing a sudden interest in my breakfast. I take a bite of my eggs and close my eyes, humming my approval. They’re good.
“He fought all those men off.”
A bit of egg gets caught in my throat. I cough, patting my chest, and when I start to calm, I laugh. “You think gay men can’t fight as well as straight men?”
He sighs through his nose. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
I laugh even harder. “That’s exactly what you’re saying.” I really don’t want him focusing on Charlie. He’s the only thing that I have that closely resembles something normal in my life.
“Listen, it really doesn’t matter about his sexual orientation right now. What matters is he saved me from getting raped. We should be eternally grateful to him for that.”
Gritting his teeth, Chris’s eyes glare with danger. “I am grateful, but it should have been me who saved you. I’m the only one who gets to save my girl.”
Setting down my fork, I grab his hand, pulling him closer to me. “And you have. Remember that life I led way back when? You saved me from that. I would still be in that grotty, horrible studio flat struggling to pay the bills and put food on the table if it wasn’t for you.”
“You should never have had to be in that position in the first place.”
I haven’t told Chris about Pete. He would be out for blood if I did. As far as he’s concerned, all ties are cut with my family, and forever will stay that way.
Chris fusses where he sits, causing the duvet to slip and reveal my breasts. His eyes immediately travel there—like a beacon homing in on its target. His eyes become hooded, and his nostrils flare with desire, but he glances away, instead getting off the bed to fetch me one of his t-shirts, handing it to me.
“Here, put this on.”
This is really hard for him. We’ve never gone a single day without having sex. Sometimes we’re so wrapped up in each other we can go several times in one day. It’s so strange. When I’m apart from him, it’s so easy to let my mind wander to other things, but stick us together and my focus is one hundred percent on him.
He realises I will need time to heal first, and so do I. That’s why I grab the t-shirt from him without hesitation and place it over my head. Chris makes an excuse to leave, mumbling something about needing to make a phone call. Phone call equaling needing some space from me.