Eloise
“Elle… I swear to you I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
How can he lie to my face? “It’s been years, Isaac. Fucking years. You don’t need to pretend anymore.”
“I’m not pretending!” His hands come to my shoulders and squeeze them tight enough to keep me in place but not to hurt me. “I didn’t cheat on you! I haven’t seen her since we broke up.”
Language escapes me. I don’t know what to say. He seems so genuine. “But… I saw you.”
“I don’t remember what you saw but I swear to you, I never, ever touched Petal in more than a platonic way. Ever. She wasn’t my type.”
“But then…” My mouth closes and my lips pinch together. I feel my eyes burn as I realise that if he’s right, I left sooner than I wanted. It was that thing that made me choose to leave. “Why did you break up with me? I thought you left me for somebody else.”
He scratches at the back of his neck before linking his fingers together there. “I was in a shit place. I did a lot of things I’m not proud of.”
“You went to rehab?”
His laugh is a grim one. “I’ve been to rehab a few times…”
The horn honks, startling us both. I turn and hold my hand up to my mum, who is glaring at me through the windscreen of the car and tapping the watch on her wrist.
“I… I have to go.” I sigh and frown. “Can I call you? I’d like to talk more about this.”
“Why?” His tone is panicked.
“Because…” Mum honks again. “I’ll call you.” I feel like I’ve made a breakthrough. I know that it’s a late one but… HONK. “Stop!” I yell at her. “I’m coming.” My hand seeks Isaac’s and when I find it, I grip it tight. “I’ll call you.”
He says nothing as I release him and rush to the car. The second my foot is on the accelerator I begin to tell my mother off, not that she listens. She’s bloody mental.
Chapter Twelve
Isaac
My mum isn’t well and it has us all concerned. This morning when I visited her with my dad she looked gaunt and almost yellow. Though her attitude and mood hadn’t changed since the last visit, she was still visibly sick.
Nobody really knows what to do. They’ve got her on a round of antibiotics after doing a series of blood tests. There’s no telling if she’ll get better or worse. She’s not in control of her mind enough to let us know the specific reason that she’s ill.
It’s breaking my heart to think of it and that’s all I seem to be doing these days…thinking. I have too much time on my hands, so when I get a random call from Jocelyn, I don’t hesitate to answer.
Nor do I hesitate to agree to meet her at the pub in town on the high street.
It’s time I started to live my life again, although I do feel guilty that it’s with somebody Elle knows through Hayley. I’m sure this is probably going against some kind of code. I still don’t talk myself out of it. I need the distraction. I need to stop living my life around a girl that no longer exists.
“You look amazing,” Jocelyn tells me as we take our seats in a side booth. She slips along the bench, being careful not to shift her tight skirt any further up her thighs. “Thank you for meeting me tonight.”
“Thank you for inviting me.” I continue assessing her, rolling my eyes over her curves and her face numerous times when I think she isn’t looking, though she probably is. She’s attractive. I can’t deny it. She’s just not… “Speaking of which, I forgot to ask…”
“How did I get your number?” And she’s psychic. “Eloise.”
That catches me off guard. “Eloise gave you my number?”
“She gave Hayley your number to give to me. I knew you wouldn’t call.”
“I might’ve.”
“I know men… you were never going to call. I took the initiative. It’s fine; it suits me. I like control.” She sips more of her drink and I glug a huge mouthful of my beer.
“I’ve been single for a while. I don’t know how to not be single anymore.”
“She has you that hung up, huh?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Whatever… I’m not really interested in that anyway.” I should be annoyed at how indifferent she is and how forward, but I oddly find it quite alluring. She’s fiery, feisty. A wild card. Definitely not what I’d call wife material but I don’t think that’s her aim anyway. Maybe this is why I find her so attractive. “I won’t know many people at Hayley’s wedding. I need a wingman. You’re my wing man.”
“Your wingman?”
“My date. You’ll be there looking all awkward like the jealous ex. I’ll be there looking all awkward because I can’t be bothered to try and loosen up a bunch of stiffs.” She grins, no doubt inwardly finding her plan genius. “Besides, I think we match well.”
“I…” I genuinely don’t know what to say. “Fine. I’ll be your date.”
“Good.” A flicker of anxiousness takes over her features before relief abolishes it. Was she nervous I’d say no? She’s not as tough as she seems. Suddenly I find her even more attractive. “Let’s drink and get to know each other better before our date.”
I click my glass against hers. “Hear hear.”
“Now…” She begins to grin again, this time mischievously. “I have to know…”
“Go on.” I take another mouthful of my beer.
“What’s it like fucking in a classroom?”
I almost spray my beer across the table but manage to choke it back in time.
“Actually don’t tell me! If our date goes well at the wedding… I want you show me.”
I’ve forgotten how to think about anything.
“That’s if you even want to.”
I open my mouth, close it, open it, close it and open it one last time, but nothing comes out.
“We’ll see how we feel.” She waves me off before tapping her empty glass. “We should eat. Are you hungry?”
“Definitely,” I respond, unable to speak about anything that she just said. What the hell is wrong with me? Did Elle take my cock with her when she left me?
Fuck.
I need to get a grip.
“You seem very confident.” I point out.
“I just like things to go my way. I expect little but what I do expect, I’m not afraid to ask for.” She grins wickedly.
“I love that. More people should be like that.” Resting back, I stretch my arm across the back of the booth.
“Men usually find it sexy.”
“It is.”
“For real?” She raises a sceptical brow. “I feel like I’m clutching at straws to keep you interested.”
“I am interested.”
Her sceptical brow vanishes as a smile appears on her face. “Good. So am I. But not… I’m not trying to marry you or anything.”
“I’m not a total idiot.”
Her laughter draws the eyes of those close by. Men are as mesmerised by her heavy cleavage as I should be. “I don’t think you are; don’t worry. I like fun but I travel too much for anything serious. I like flavour.”
“I used to be the same way.”
“And then you fell in love?”
I blow out a long breath and recall the memories that led me to where I am now. “And then I fell in love.”
“Here’s to fucking, not loving.” She clinks the glass against mine as I take my turn to laugh so loudly I draw the eyes of others onto us.
“Hear hear.” I down the last dregs of beer and pick up the menu. When our next round comes after we place our order at the bar, I raise my glass to myself. “Here’s to moving on.”
And that’s when lips meet mine and a finger hooks around the belt loop of my trousers, pulling me closer.
Eloise
“She didn’t come back to mine, so I can only guess…” Hayley’s voice fades only to be replaced by a high pitched ringing noise in my ears.
“I’m losing you,” I lie and then hang up the phone so I c
an gather myself.
I basically handed my husband over to somebody else.
My ex-husband. I meant ex.
She doesn’t call back. I don’t call her back. This is the conversation I’ve been avoiding for a while. When Hayley called me to get Isaac’s number for Jocelyn, I couldn’t say no. She wasn’t being malicious, she just wanted to know whether she should run interference or hand it over.
I wanted to tell her to run interference. I wanted to tell her to punch Jocelyn in the nose. How could I though?
He clearly liked her. Even I could see they had chemistry. It’s none of my business.
So I gave Hayley his number to give to Jocelyn and now I fucking hate myself for it.
Even as I sit across from Silas, watching him type away on his laptop, knowing that last night he made love to me from behind so sweetly, his chest against my back, his lips against my ear, I can’t help myself but feel jealous, angry, pissed off, upset… all of the fucking above.
I need to get a grip.
“You’ve been staring at me for almost five minutes.” Silas says, not looking up from his laptop. “I’m not that pretty.”
“We’ve never had rough sex.” I blurt and his eyes, now wide with surprise, come to me.
“Sorry?”
“You should be,” I state and stand. “We always take out time and do it slowly.”
“You don’t enjoy it?”
“You know I do…” Sometimes. I won’t lie that there are times I’ve faked it, but I guess that’s normal in any relationship. “But variety is the spice of life, or so they say.”
His hands close the laptop and move it to the side. “You want me to be rough with you?”
Do I? Is that my point? “Yes.”
“That’s not really my thing.” He stands and pads over to me. His bare feet sink into the thick, soft rug that covers the floor between the two couches. “But I’ll try it…”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. No time like the present.” His grin is infectious as he comes to a stop before me and places his hands on my hips. “So… where do I throw you?”
A laugh escapes me. “I can’t direct you. Just feel it and do it.”
“Should I rip your top or something?”
“No! I like this top. I’ve had it for years.” It’s one of my favourites; the deep green really brings out the red in my hair and the green in my eyes.
“Well… I don’t know what to do. I feel a bit silly.”
“Fine.” I begin pushing him backwards until he falls back onto the couch he just vacated. His breath leaves him with a whoosh but he doesn’t protest. In fact his eyes darken when I climb onto him, effectively straddling him. My skirt is now up around my hips. I grip the collar of his shirt in a tight fist and slam my lips onto his.
His excitement presses against my sex and a moan leaves me.
This reminds me of the time I straddled Isaac on his couch… my hand instantly seeks out the longer hair I once grabbed but I find nothing but stubble on scalp and quickly remember where I am and who I’m with.
As if somebody threw me in a cold shower, my mood for this has gone and I’m climbing off him.
“Where are you going?” He asks, grabbing my naked thigh before I can stand. “I was enjoying myself. You’ve never been like that with me before.”
“I’m not in the mood and I have that paper to write.” I lie. I finished it an hour ago. “Besides… that kind of sex is supposed to be spontaneous and passionate.”
“That was spontaneous. One minute I was sat reassessing an entire paragraph in my dissertation and the next my gorgeous girlfriend is asking me to violate her body in the most delicious way.” He rolls me onto my back on the couch and hikes my leg over his hip. Fingers bite into my thigh but it does nothing to stimulate me.
I feel terrible for it, too. The reason I’m in such a shit mood is because my ex-husband is fucking a goddess.
I just need a few moments alone. I thought Silas could cure my mind of this poisonous thought, but instead it only fuelled it and now the only hands I want on me at this point belong to somebody else.
I can’t cope.
“Come on, Elle, I’m all worked up,” he whispers and his teeth nip my ear as his heated groin pushes against me.
“Not now.”
His teeth move from my ear, down my jaw and to my neck as my hands push between us, attempting to get the space I need. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
I feel my wrists come together above my head in a swift movement from him. He has them pinned so tightly my arms stretch and ache. I feel like one wrong move could dislocate my shoulders.
He brings my other thigh up before I can close my legs and suddenly my body locks instinctively as it senses danger.
“Sil…” I’m smothered with lips on mine. They pinch and hurt as I thrash my head from side to side to shake him off. I can’t breathe. His lips bruise my mouth so tightly my nose is crushed between our faces. Anguished screams leave my throat. I try to throw him off. I push at his chest with mine and attempt to roll sideways but the way my hands are pinned above me is too painful.
“Fucking beautiful,” he says.
“Stop!” I yell. “You’re hurting me!”
His weight is gone in a second and I’m being lifted. “Elle… are you okay?”
I flex my shoulders after wobbling on my feet for a moment.
“Answer me,” he demands, his eyes furious. “You said rough!”
“That’s not what I meant!” I shout back, taking a step away from him.
“How the hell was I supposed to know? You asked me to do something out of my comfort zone.”
“You’re supposed to read my body and know when to keep going and when to pull back. You don’t just go psycho!”
Throwing his arms in the air, he drops them back to his sides before running them over his head and pacing the area in front of me. “You wanted rough, you got rough. And now you’re mad?”
“You scared me,” I admit while my hands tug my clothing back into place.
Finally stopping his pacing and tense movements, he stares at me for a long pause. His voice is a low whisper when he finally speaks. “I’m just going to go.”
“That’s probably best,” I agree, holding my arms over my chest.
He doesn’t speak as he gathers up his things and brushes past me. I feel him hesitate when he opens the door to leave but he doesn’t turn back.
Part of me is sad he’s gone but the bigger part of me just wants to be alone anyway.
I shouldn’t have played him like that… I turned him on and then put on the brakes. That was unfair of me, though how was I supposed to know that I’d suddenly no longer want to do it? That doesn’t give him the right to treat me that way.
But he was giving me what I asked for. He probably thought I was just putting on an act so he’d get rough. He did stop as soon as I said for him to stop.
This isn’t his fault. He’s right. I asked him for something he doesn’t know how to give. He tried.
Now I feel bad, but I don’t send him an apology. I don’t call. I don’t even acknowledge him at all.
I call Damon instead and we curl up on the couch with ice cream, bad foreign films and a large bag of spicy tortilla chips.
Then we study for a while before driving to his parents’ house where I help his mum make dinner while his dad plies us all with alcohol.
Isaac
The shower runs hot over my skin as I wash away the vomit that my own mother unleashed upon me only minutes ago. Thankfully the nursing home in which she resides was kind enough to let me wash up in their staff shower. My dad has gone to the car to fetch my gym bag. I have spare clothing in there.
He enters the shower room and places the bag somewhere beyond the curtain which I hide behind, not that it matters. We’re both past the age of caring about nudity.
“I’ll wait for you in her room.”
Normally we aren’t allowed in the patien
ts’ rooms, purely because the nurses can’t watch us all at once, which is fine with us. Today is different though. My poor mother is under quarantine whilst they figure out what’s making her projectile vomit everything she consumes amongst other bodily fluids. They don’t want her passing it on to the other patients.
“Okay,” I call back and quickly finish in the shower.
The nurse guides me to my mum’s room and I step inside. The doctor is with her, shining a light in her eyes and checking her pulse. Another nurse waits off to the side with a bucket of warm, soapy water.
“She has a fever,” the doctor states, frowning. “I’m going to give her another course of antibiotics. There’s little else we can do at this point.”
“What do you mean there’s little else you can do?” My dad asks angrily. I place my hand on his shoulder.
“Her tests are clear. There are no abnormalities in her blood.” The doctor explains, moving out the way so the nurse can clean up my mother. He rips off his gloves and disposes them in the waste bag on the trolley. “I’m sorry. I’m hoping it’s just a bug and it will pass but…”
“But?”
His eyes come to mine and then to my dad’s. “You have no idea how many people just drop off their relatives and leave, like this is some kind of animal sanctuary. They don’t look back and they sure as hell don’t visit. Who can blame them?” I say nothing and neither does my dad. “But at the same time, you wonder how they can just leave them here like that. It breaks your heart. It breaks my heart. It breaks the hearts of all of the people in this building.”
He’s not wrong. It’s rare that we see anyone visiting the other patients.
“But this is worse. I haven’t been put in this situation often, seeing the look in your eyes as I fail to do what I became a doctor to do.”
My dad’s hand goes to his chest as my fingers bite into his shoulder.
“I’m going to be honest with you both, because you deserve it. If she stays ill, she’s not going to last much longer.”
We both nod. We both knew it was coming but it still doesn’t hurt any less.
“You’re amazing men. Amazing people. I’m so sorry that I can’t do more. At the moment I’m just guessing by the visible symptoms.”
Distinction: The Distraction Trilogy #3 Page 12