by Emma Jaye
Finn blew out a breath. “Having a sip of wine. I don’t even remember what I had for dinner.” He squinted at her vibrant, fluffy pink hair. “That friend of yours isn’t into rohypnol is he?”
She giggled. “Ezra and drugs? No way. You think he needs something artificial to get his leg over? Whores pay him for his time. He brought you back as you weren’t feeling well. Luckily enough you waited ’til he got you back before you yacked. He wanted to stay but I chased him off. He felt guilty for getting you pissed so he’s getting your suit dry cleaned.”
“He didn’t...?” Finn indicated his groin, covered by his Scooby Doo quilt.
Pixie tilted her head like a bird. “What? Assault you when you were out of it? Strip you? Or see your embarrassingly juvenile choice of bed linen?”
Finn squinted at her from under his hair. “Any of the above?”
She grinned and patted his leg. “Only the quilt cover, which he liked. I got you undressed while he waited in the living room. Nice arse by the way.”
Finn groaned. “I don’t believe I did that. Charlie’s going to have a fit when he finds out.”
Pixie shrugged and grinned. “Probably, but he’s no good for you. Ezra, on the other hand...”
Finn put his coffee on the desk beside his bed and fell back on his pillow with a groan. Charlie’s heavy silver chain weighed on his neck and conscience.
“I so need to sort this out.”
“Yep, you do. So, will it be a ‘Dear John’ snail mail, a phone call, or are you going to take the wimp’s way out and text the stuck-up arsehole? Personally, I think anything other than face to face and an official handing over of relationship gifts lacks class.”
Finn frowned in confusion. “Ezra’s a lot of things but I wouldn’t call him stuck up. And why would he want used sex toys back?” He pulled a face. “Actually, please don’t answer that.”
Pixie looked at him as if he’d grown another head then exploded with laughter.
“What?” Finn asked, wondering if the hair dye had finally infiltrated her brain.
She waved at him, unable to control herself enough to speak. “Oh, oh crap, he’s going to be so pissed, beaten by a—” she paused as if changing her mind about what she was going to say, “—stockbroker, who doesn’t even fuck.” She broke into more peels of silvery laughter as she collapsed across his legs.
“I’m regretting ever telling you that,” he said, then frowned. “You didn’t tell Ezra I’m still a you-know-what, did you?”
Grinning, she asked, “A virgin?” and laughed when he winced. “Is that v-card getting a bit heavy? Saying that, I’d be surprised if he hasn’t worked it out already. I swear the guy’s psychic when it comes to sex. But Ezra could definitely help you with that. Although, as far as I know, he’s not a cherry picker.”
“A what?”
“A cherry picker. Someone that specifically goes for virgins. He likes his partners to have a really good time and for most people, pain doesn’t help with that.”
“So, it does hurt?”
She shrugged. “Depends on who you’re with, and for you, which way around you’re doing it. For women, breaking a hymen hurts, for anal, it’s all down to experience and technique. And Ezra–”
“Yeah, yeah, has got experience to the moon and back. I get it. But he’s not the relationship type, is he?”
Pixie grimaced. “He’s not the exclusive type. Doesn’t mean he can’t have long standing relationships. I’ll let you in on a little secret. You know all the stuff he has? Car, fancy clothes? He was either given it, or bought it with money he received as ‘gifts’.”
Finn shot her a quizzical look.
“From very LONELY people.”
“Oh... OH, he’s a...” What he was hoping the circular motion he was making with his hand was meant to represent he didn’t know, but Pixie seemed to get it as she rolled her eyes.
“Finally, the penny drops. The politically correct word is ‘escort’. And instead of earning money last night, he chose to have dinner with you. Think about it,” she said as she got up. “If you want to talk to Charlie, and I suggest you do ASAP, I’ll lend you the fare up there, so it stays a surprise. You wouldn’t want him checking your account and seeing the debit, would you?”
FINN THOUGHT ABOUT Charlie and Ezra. For hours.
His phone pinged several times; none of the texts were from Charlie. They were all daft comments about his Scooby Doo ‘fetish’ from Ezra.
I can sort you out with furry ears, a much better collar and a butt plug tail if you like.
Snorting with laughter, he replied without thinking.
Who says I’d be the dog, not Shaggy?
Nah, you’re a pup down to your toes. Besides, Shaggy’s my middle name. Want me to show you why?
The blatant offer sobered him. He really needed to see Charlie, to reconnect with the things that mattered, rather than the decadent temptation that was Ezra Erotes. A man who charged for his company, and yet was offering it to Finn for free.
Did that make him feel good? Hell, yes. He knew it would only last until Ezra found another shiny new sexual target, but good God, it would be fun while it lasted. Security or excitement? Reliability and a grey future or short-lived, red hot passion?
His finger hovered over the ‘reply’ button for a second, before he gritted his teeth and dialled Charlie. Despite what Pixie had said, he knew Charlie wouldn’t appreciate a surprise visit. Besides, he didn’t even know if Charlie would be at his new house or at his parents’ place this weekend.
“Charlie Whittaker’s phone,” an unfamiliar female voice answered.
“Erm, is Charlie there? I’m–” Finn paused, how did he categorise himself? ‘Friend’ seemed even more of a lie than it normally did.
“He’s busy. I’m Annabelle, his P.A. And I know exactly who you are, Finn Barrett. It’s nice to finally put a voice to the name and photos.” Her voice dropped an octave. “You sound as sexy as he says you are.”
Finn blinked in surprise. “He told you about me?”
“Oh yes, but your secret’s safe with me. I agree with keeping it quiet. This business is very much about appearances. It’s a shame for all of us, but it’ll be easier after the weekend, you’ll see. I can’t wait to meet you, hopefully in a couple of weeks when the dust has settled. I’ve got so much to organise before tonight, must dash. I’ll let him know you called.”
Finn was left listening to the tone, wondering what the hell just happened.
If he got his arse in gear, he could be up in London a couple of hours after his last lecture at four. He checked the time and groaned; it was already four fifteen. He’d slept the day away and missed a lecture for the first time. Ezra was definitely a bad influence.
Half an hour later, he was dressed in his usual skinny black jeans and a dark green button shirt he knew Charlie liked, mainly because he’d bought it.
“Hey, Pixie, do me a favour?”
She looked up from her sketchpad as she sat on the threadbare, probably third-hand sofa.
“Remember you offered to buy me a train ticket to London? I’ll pay you back tomorrow.” He batted his eyelashes at her.
“At last, you’ve come to your senses.” Grabbing her purse from the coffee table, she handed him three twenties.
Frowning, he said, “I’m not going up there to break up with him; at least I’m not intending to. But this thing with Ezra... I don’t like keeping secrets.”
With her, ‘It doesn’t seem to bother that bellend boyfriend of yours’ ringing in his ears, he packed an overnight bag. Grabbing his jacket, he left the flat and jogged off towards the station in the rapidly approaching chilly April evening.
SQUARING HIS SHOULDERS against the fear that Charlie wouldn’t appreciate him turning up unannounced, he turned the corner into his boyfriend’s predictably neat and tidy road.
Just because they hadn’t had a good sex life so far, it didn’t mean they couldn’t in the future. Everyone had to start
learning sometime.
The Adele song floating on the breeze made him wince. Charlie liked his peace and quiet.
He checked the door number on the adjacent house again to confirm that he had the right place. Light poured out onto the street from Charlie’s open front door. Like a moth drawn to a flame that would probably burn him, Finn carried on walking.
“To the happy couple!” The male voice was followed by cheering.
“Yeah, trust you to slip off to the States and have a big fancy engagement party without inviting any of us poor plebs,” another bloke said, which caused more ripples of laughter.
Standing in the doorway, Finn watched, frozen, as a smiling Charlie kissed the temple of a large horse-faced blonde woman who looked nearer thirty than twenty.
“Well, we had to do something,” she said, smiling shyly and placing a hand on her abdomen. “Can’t have this little one being a bastard, can we?”
Nausea washed over Finn as a dark-haired man standing next to the couple laughed and punched Charlie’s arm. “Charlie, you dog.”
His boyfriend’s happy face drained of colour as his eyes met Finn’s. The blonde put her hand on Charlie’s arm. “Baby, you ok?”
Finn unfroze, turned and walked from the house. Almost blindly, he headed back towards the tube station, not hearing the clattering of high heels behind him until a hand grabbed his shoulder.
“Finn! Stop before I break my neck in these bloody stupid shoes.”
He didn’t recognise the curvy, short brunette who didn’t look much older than him.
“We spoke on the phone earlier, I’m Annabelle.”
“Still doing his dirty work?” he snapped.
She blew out a frustrated breath. “Neither Felicity nor I had any idea he hadn’t told you. It was a shitty thing to do, but it’s done now and we have to deal with it.”
“We? What’s with the we? Personally, I’m pissing off and never seeing that lying fucker again. You can do whatever the fuck you like.” Swearing wasn’t common for him, but right now, it felt fucking appropriate.
She reached out and touched his arm. “Just hold on a minute before you go galloping off into the sunset. There’s a very simple explanation, one that works to all our advantages.”
Folding his arms, he stared at her expectantly. The initial shock and humiliation morphed into anger at Charlie and then at himself for being so bloody dense all this time.
“Felicity is my girlfriend. She’s also the boss’s daughter. She’s loaded, but her old man is traditional, just like Charlie’s folks. No marriage, no grandchild, no inheritance. So, we decided to kill three birds with one stone. Happy grandparents, promotion for Charlie and an inherited mansion in the country for all four of us. What we do behind closed doors is up to us.” She smiled brightly, as if it was the best idea in the world.
“And what role am I meant to play in this La La Land?”
She shrugged. “I’ll carry on being Charlie’s personal assistant. You could be the gardener, the chauffeur or even the manny; they’re very trendy these days.”
His eyes widened as she reached out a manicured finger and ran her pink nail down the front of his shirt.
“The country estate has a staff cottage, we could live there, together. And when it’s my turn to have a baby, we could, you know, do it the old-fashioned way.”
Gritting his teeth, he asked, “And did Charlie and Felicity do it ‘the old-fashioned way’?”
Annabelle pulled a face. “It would have been fun, but Felicity isn’t remotely bi.” The implication that Charlie was bisexual, made Finn’s stomach roll.
Annabelle didn’t seem to notice his reaction as she carried on. “I did it with a turkey baster after Charlie had done his thing in a cup in another room. Her only rule is that you two don’t have penetrative sex; she’s scared stiff of getting HIV. I know it’s stupid but there’s no talking to her once she’s got something in her head. He said you didn’t mind. What you’ve never had you don’t miss, right?”
The fact that Charlie had discussed Finn’s virginity with these total strangers was just a final nail in the coffin of their relationship.
Charlie’s chain felt foul against his skin. He couldn’t stand it touching him for another moment. Reaching both hands behind his neck, he undid the clasp and held it out to her by one end.
She pouted. “I spent ages picking that out for you.”
“Keep it. I want nothing to do with it or any of you.” When she didn’t reach for it, he dropped it on the pavement, turned and started jogging towards the tube station. Pixie had been right, Charlie was a complete bellend and he was better off out of it.
Besides, even if he went back and confronted him, their relationship would still be over. And that poor bun in the oven might pay the price. It wasn’t its fault its parents were arseholes, any more than it was his fault his father had only stayed around for his conception.
Twenty minutes later, he bought a tube ticket with cash back to Victoria where he could get a train home.
At Victoria, the ticket machine declined his debit card. As he was heading to a cashpoint to check it, his phone beeped with a text message.
Party’s over. Come back. We need to talk. When we have, I’ll put the money back into your account.
The anger that had started to morph into self-pity flared back even higher. If he thought Finn would come crawling back because he didn’t have another choice, Charlie was even more deluded than he’d thought.
His choices were limited and involved either embarrassment or significant personal risk. It wasn’t a difficult decision. He pulled out his phone. At least he nearly had a full battery.
Taking a deep breath, he dialled. “Pixie? Get your ‘I told you so’s’ ready. He... let’s just say it didn’t work out. But the bastard’s cleaned out my account in the hope I’ll go crawling back. Can you think of a way to get me home or sort out a budget hotel room for the night? Because there’s no fucking way I’m going back to his place, I’d rather sleep under a bush or hitch home. I promise I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.” He shivered. Days were warm in the spring, but the temperature still dropped into single digits at night.
“Don’t be a dick. The cavalry is on the way. Did he hurt you?”
Finn snorted. “He didn’t even fucking talk to me.”
“Tell me all when I get there. Wait in the station and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
He smiled. “And how much does that cut out? You forget, I’ve been out with you loads of times.”
“Just stay safe, yeah? No taking sweeties or drinks from strangers.”
His eyes prickled with tears, but he managed a snort of laughter for her. “What are you, my mother? I’m a big boy now, Pix, but yeah, I’ll be good. And Pixie, I owe you another one.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. But I’d miss your terrible taste in bedding if you weren’t around. See you soon.”
Phone call over, Finn decided to get as pissed as his remaining seventeen quid would get him in one of London’s biggest train stations.
An hour and a half later, he was staring into the bottom of his third pint of what had proved to be seriously strong cider when a large hand landed on his shoulder.
“Let’s get you in the car. We can plot cutting off his nuts on the way home,” Ezra told him.
Pixie sat at the wheel of Ezra’s familiar red Lexus. Finn wondered how many times Ezra had fucked whoever had given him the car.
Ezra opened the rear door for him and to his surprise, climbed in beside him. He’d expected such a dominant man to insist on driving his own car.
“Would you like me to stop off somewhere and tear a certain bastard’s nuts off?” Pixie asked.
Finn managed a smile at her fierce expression. Maybe without the three ciders he’d still be furious. Now, he just wanted to forget and think about what the fuck he was going to do now. He’d already come to one painful conclusion.
“Nah, he’s not worth it. But I’m going t
o have to drop out of my course.”
“He’s cut you off permanently?” Pixie didn’t sound particularly surprised. Probably because she’d seen Charlie for the shit he was way before Finn had cottoned on.
“I don’t suppose he had a lot of choice; I called his bluff. He said he’d reinstate my account if I went back. I told him to stick it. There’s nothing left; he withdrew the lot. Seeing as he put it all in, and I gave him access to it, there’s not much I can do. I don’t want his fucking money anyway, but after the ciders I just sank, I’ve got less than a pound to my name.” Christ, I’m so fucking pathetic. Going back to mum’s with my tail between my legs is going to be–
Ezra draped a heavy arm over his shoulder. After giving him a sympathetic squeeze, he rubbed his thumb along Finn’s bare neck. Stupid tears prickled Finn’s eyes again. That bastard is not going to make me cry.
“What was his plan?” Ezra said.
Finn snorted. “It wasn’t a what, more of a whom. Two and a bit ‘whoms’ to be precise. I walked in on him, his new fiancée and her lesbian lover announcing to a houseful of yuppies that they are ‘expecting’. His bride is about thirty, in age and dress size. They got her pregnant with a turkey baster because they couldn’t stand touching each other.”
The silence was deafening, for about thirty seconds. Pixie bit her lip, pulled a face as if she was about to explode, then lost the fight to hold it in. Both Finn and Ezra joined in. Said out loud, it was bloody ridiculous, but it still felt as if his heart had been torn out. However, laughing was better than crying, at least until he was on his own.
When the laughter died down, Ezra was the first to speak. “Finn?”
Those dark eyes drew him in, despite the gloom and the fingers brushing his neck were comforting.
“You’re alright about this though, aren’t you?”
Searching his feelings, Finn only came up with numbness. It was a damn sight better than the yo-yoing between anger, humiliation and self-pity he’d experienced earlier.
“To be honest, I haven’t got a bloody clue. It feels unreal, like I’m going to wake up from some freaky nightmare any minute.”