Hedging His Bets

by Laura Carter

  My clothes slowly began to sell in the two stores, until I had four stores and I needed to look for a studio space. I was also conscious that I needed to leave Mrs. Ashely’s home, having probably overstayed my welcome.

  The lady who owned the Camden Market boutique put me in touch with Jenni, who owned a studio in Camden. It was the third floor of a building, above one of Camden’s many sex shops. As you can imagine, I wasn’t feeling it initially, but I climbed the rickety staircase anyway and knocked on the white door of the studio.

  “Come in! Come in!” I couldn’t place the source of the voice but figured the call was to me, so I pushed inside, surprised to find a huge white, open space, filled with canvasses on easels, paints, materials. A radio was playing Sheryl Crow’s “All I Wanna Do.”

  I took in the artsy space, thinking I could definitely work there. Then I was practically knocked off my feet by a girl with pixie hair wearing jean shorts and a polka-dot T-shirt. She bumped her hip into mine with such force I rocked to the side and reached out to the wall to support myself. “You must be Jess.”

  I confirmed I was as I took in all her ear piercings, her nose ring and lip piercing, and the tattoo sleeve inked on her left arm.

  “Well, take a look around. I lost the guy I shared with last week—he moved to a bigger space—and I could use someone coming straight in to split the cost.” She moved around the space quickly as she spoke, disorienting me. She disappeared behind a door into another room, which I assumed was a toilet until she left the door open and kept talking; then I figured it couldn’t be. Once I started working there, I realized Jenni had actually been talking to me from the toilet. She was quite a free spirit like that.

  “Have you eaten lunch?” she asked.

  I moved to a modern painting of a woman’s face on the wall, taking in the bright colors. “Erm, no, actually.”

  Jenni reappeared. “Great. Let’s go to the market.”

  It was a sunny day in Camden. We ate chick pea curry outside, sat on old whisky barrels as we shared one, then two, bottles of wine, the alcohol cementing our friendship.

  “So, you’ll take the space?” Jenni asked, once the wine fog had already taken hold.

  “What would the arrangement be?”

  “Six months. Pay me two weekly. We’ll split the room down the middle. Simple.”

  I took a gulp of wine, then set my glass down on the barrel. “Six months?”

  “O-Oh, I’ve got you sussed. You’re one of those, aren’t you?”

  “One of those what?” I asked.

  She shrugged as she drained the last of the wine directly from the bottle. “A commitment phobe.”

  “I am not a commitment phobe.” I pondered that. “I’ve just never had to commit to anything.”

  “Mmm hmm. Gotcha. Well, think it over. I have someone else looking at the place tomorrow and I can’t afford to pass up any offers, but I’d like you to take it. I can already tell we’re going to be good friends.”

  She said it so seriously, as if it genuinely didn’t matter whether I chose to be her friend or not. I started to laugh and something took hold of me—wine, fear, the oddness of having been in the UK for the last few weeks. It kept my laughter coming until my sides hurt. It felt too good to stop.

  I stayed with Jenni that night, taking her sofa. I was going to leave in the morning without waking her. If her head felt as groggy as mine was, I figured she’d be thankful. But she caught me as I was folding up the duvet she’d loaned me and stacking it with her pillows on the sofa.

  “When you accept my offer, I’m thinking you’ll need a place to live?”

  She padded through the lounge and into the kitchen to boil the kettle.

  “I told you, Jenni, I need to think about it.”

  “Okay. But, when you do accept, I know a couple of guys who are looking for someone to take their third room. It’s a small room but a good price. Do you want a bagel?”

  I was going to say no but my stomach growled at me, and I thought maybe it would alleviate some of the sick feeling I had inside, so I said yes.

  I still wasn’t sure I could commit to being in London for six months. In fact, my gut was telling me to turn the place down, but I took the number of the apartment Jenni gave me and I texted some guy called Jake to see if I could view the spare room.

  * * * *

  I followed the instructions Jake texted to me and, after getting it wrong twice, I finally arrived at the door of the apartment, the top floor of a split house in west London. I double checked the number on the door and knocked. Seconds later the door was flung open and a man, naked but for his boxers, was standing in front of me.

  “Jesus,” I said, recoiling.

  “All right?” The naked man winked at me, then his hand went to his boxers as he shuffled his piece. I almost ran right then. No way in hell was I staying in this place with this pervert. “I’m Alex,” he said, holding out a hand.

  I considered his hand, then his tall, slim, pale body. “You just touched your dick and now you’re asking me to shake your hand?”

  He laughed and scrutinized me, head to toe, from my heeled boots and skinny jeans, to my leather jacket and my hair pulled across my shoulder.

  “She’s got my vote, Jake,” he said, leaving me in the doorway.

  I stepped inside for some unknown reason.

  “It’s been fun, kids, but I’ve got to go. Someone is here to view the spare room and Alex is naked.”

  “Alex is always naked,” someone said. “Okay, son, be safe. We love you.”

  “Love you too, Mom.” I leaned farther into the lounge and saw the source of the voice, standing in the kitchen, talking into a laptop that was on the kitchen counter. The first thing that struck me was that his voice was deep and smooth. The second thing was his American accent.

  “See you, baby brother,” a new female voice said.

  “Bye, Mill. Take care of my niece and nephew.”

  “Catch you later, jackass.” Those words came from a man and made Jake smile. His smile pulled on only half of his mouth and caused a dimple in his cheek.

  “Fuck off, dickhead.” He closed the lid of the laptop, then lifted his head so I finally saw his full face under the peak of his black cap. And, damn, did it hit me full force. That smile wasn’t all he had going for him. Dark stubble lined a sharp jaw—not too sharp, just perfectly sharp.

  His dark eyes narrowed on me as he stared without moving. Something leaped inside me. It jumped from my stomach to under my breastbone and made me close my eyes for a moment.

  “Hi, I’m Jake.”

  I swallowed to wet my dry throat as he stepped from behind the counter, giving me the full view of his broad, muscular body under his fitted white T-shirt and dark jeans. “Jess.”

  He lifted his cap and scratched his head of thick brown hair. “Sorry about my roommate. He has like a birth defect or something.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, I figured there was something going on there.”

  He replaced his cap and leaned his head to one side. “That’s an English accent with a difference.”

  “Mmm, yeah, well, I’ve lived a lot of places.” And nowhere.

  His eyes never left mine, as if he was waiting for more information, but I didn’t give it. This wasn’t going to be a long-term arrangement, even if I did decide to stay. I didn’t need to share things with him.

  He let out a short pfft of laughter. “All right then, Jess from Nowhere and Everywhere, let me show you around.”

  I watched his back muscles move beneath his T-shirt as I followed him through the lounge-kitchen-diner area, along a corridor and to my potential bedroom. It wasn’t much, completely empty but for a wardrobe and a mattress-less double bed. But it was better than most places I’d stayed in the last fifteen years. Plus, it had an en suite. I could be alone here as much as I wan
ted.

  As we stepped back into the hallway, Alex came out of his bedroom, still almost naked, but now smelling of aftershave.

  “Christ, man, put some clothes on,” Jake said, the break in his voice betraying his amusement.

  Alex shrugged. “She needs to know what she’s getting herself into if she lives here. Jess, my love, I don’t do clothes in the house. I do women. Lots of women. If you want…” He winked at me again.

  “While that’s a delightful offer, and, might I add, very politely put, it’s Sunday, day of rest and all,” I said.

  Jake laughed hard, with his head thrown back and the skin of his neck pulled taut across his Adam’s Apple. Damn, the man was sexy as hell.

  “I like her,” Alex said. “Let’s keep her.” Then he was gone from the corridor.

  Jake led me to the kitchen and pulled out a stool for me. “Grab a seat. Beer?”

  I was about to object but he was already taking two bottles from the fridge. “Looks like I don’t have much choice.”

  “Things you need to know,” he said, unhooking the lids from the bottles. “Alex doesn’t wear enough clothes, and he really is frisky but harmless. For my part, you should never refuse beer, wings or burgers and we’ll get along just fine.”

  He handed a bottle of beer to me and I watched him swig from his own. My lips curled up and I still have no idea why. I just…liked him. When I realized I was staring at him, I dragged my eyes away, looking for anything to distract me. My focus landed on his laptop.

  “Were you on a video call before?” I asked, stating the obvious.

  “Yeah, it’s a family thing. Probably something else you should know about me. I Skype my family a lot. I’m a big family guy and my closest friends are my family.”

  I took a gulp of beer and played with the label on the bottle as a wave of unexplainable emotion floated over me.

  “Sorry, does that make you think I’m weird or something?” he asked.

  “Weird? God, no.” Then I don’t know what came over me, but I told this hot stranger, “I guess, if anything, it makes me feel envious.”

  I didn’t know why I’d said it and I didn’t want him to push it. My chest fluttered with panic as he questioned me with a look. Don’t ask about me.

  He stepped back against the kitchen counter and folded his bulging biceps across his toned pecs. I remember thinking, Hell, I do have a libido.

  “So, Mysterious Jess, do you want the place?”

  I took a deep breath and sat up straighter on my stool. “The lease is six months?”

  He nodded. “Unless you want to sign up for longer. I’m sure the landlord—”

  “Oh, God, longer would definitely not be necessary. I don’t really hang around. Six months would be the longest I’ve stayed anywhere since… For a long time.”

  “Well, what do you say to six months?”

  I wanted to say no. Something about this man set my alarm bells ringing. A sexy as sin man who valued family and friends, who wasn’t ready to flee to some remote part of the world next week. I wanted to run. Yet, the word that left my mouth was, “Okay.”

  That damn smiled curved on one side of his lips again. “I’ll have a word with Alex about wearing more clothes.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  The next day, I signed a lease and Jake took me shopping for furniture. We spent night after night building flat pack things for my room. When I made my own soft furnishings, I made him some too. I had a home. I had a friend. I had things to call my own. For the first time since my mum died, I had a bed that I actually owned.

  When my six months were up, I signed for another six, and another six, and another. My small roots grew deep into London, deep into Jake, deep into a version of me I had wanted since I was an orphaned girl. Jake became my roots and he became my best friend. I told him about my life and he told me everything about his. We picked each other up when we were down. We cared for each other when we were sick. And he became the wind that blew just enough between my branches to keep life interesting. I had roots and leaves. I was a complete tree. And I started to feel again. I let myself feel just enough to remind myself I was human.

  Jake became the most precious thing in the world to me and I would never, will never, risk losing him.

  Chapter 16

  Jake

  The alarm on my cell phone vibrates but I catch it quickly, since I’ve hardly slept. Jess is tucked under my arm, her head resting on my chest, where she’s been since the third time we made love last night. She looks so peaceful I don’t want to wake her. I take her in for a few more minutes, listening to the song of the waves through the open bedroom window. The black of the night is beginning to turn to a dark shade of blue as the moon begins to make way for the sun.

  I lay still for hours, trying not to wake Jess, as my mind exploded with too many thoughts to get a handle on any. I said we made love. We did. There’s no question. The way she looked into my soul as she climaxed, the way the universe seemed to shrink until it was only us, in our moment together. Or, perhaps our moment felt as large as the universe.

  The thing is, if I felt it, she must have felt it too. Maybe not as hard and powerful. Maybe it didn’t consume her completely. But she must have felt the shift between us. We weren’t two friends treating each other to the best time any person could give another. We were more than that, so much more. The playfulness that is usually between us, the frantic heat, they were replaced with what felt like lightning bolts coming from my heart to hers. She was part of me. I was part of her. We were two halves of a whole.

  And if she felt it, her instinct will tell her to run. That’s who Jess is. She’s a runner. Living with me in London is the longest she’s stayed in one place in her entire adult life. As I lay in bed, I wondered why. Why had she chosen to stay in London? Chosen to stay anywhere, finally? I questioned why we ever started sleeping together. And I wondered how much champagne she had yesterday, whether, when she woke in a panic, she would use it as an excuse.

  So, when I heard the others come back from the pub around one in the morning, I slipped out of Jess’s hold and I went to Brooks’s room to put a plan in motion.

  The plan is simply this: distract her long enough to get her over the initial panic. Then, I’ve no damn clue. But I know, if she wakes and starts thinking about whether she could have stronger feelings for me than friendship, she’ll think about her parents. She’ll think about her fear of falling in love. Of loving someone so much it can bring an end to everything.

  “Jess. Babe, wake up.” I stroke her cheek and press my lips to her hair.

  My heart bursts when she rubs a knuckle into her eye and lifts her head, completely disoriented. “What’s wrong? What time is it?”

  She glances down at my chest and I see a subtle shift in her eyes, as if the realization that she slept with me in every sense of the word and she wasn’t wasted dawns on her. It’s the confirmation I needed. I’m making the right decision, forcing her to rise at four in the morning.

  Before she thinks or has a chance to say another word, I lift her to sit and talk-whisper instructions, trying not to wake anyone else in the house. “You need to get up—I’m taking you somewhere.”

  “But. What?”

  I can’t resist. I lean on the bed and steal a kiss. “You are fucking adorable when you’re sleepy.” I take her hand and tug her from the bed. “Up. Now. Put swimwear under your clothes.”

  She stands on the spot, staring at me. I clap my hands. “Babe, let’s go, let’s go. Chop-chop.”

  “What the…?” She drops her hands to her hips. “I know you did not clap your hands at me.”

  “Finally, she’s awake. Get to it.” I leave her tutting as I make quick work of cleaning my teeth. She comes into the bathroom, wearing only a bikini, and I greedily take her in. How in God’s name did I resist her for so damn long?<
br />
  She puts paste on her brush and scowls at me as she cleans her teeth next to me. I spit. She spits. Then she slips her feet into sandals as I pull on sneakers.

  I grab the keys to Brooks’s truck from the drawer where I left them after talking with him a few hours ago, and I lead Jess outside.

  “What are we doing?” she asks again as she climbs into the truck.

  I turn the keys in the ignition but before I pull out of the driveway, I turn to her. “I want to start the day with you. I want to spend every second of today with you. Just us. From beginning to end. Is that all right?”

  She doesn’t say anything as she looks deep into my eyes. That panic is there, lingering beneath the surface. I know her. I know every subtle expression she makes. I know that her mind is screaming at her to run. I try to tell her in a look that she’s going to have me to contend with before she can even make a move.

  I sit, not speaking, until there’s the slightest incline of her head and she croaks, “Okay.”

  I lower the windows and head out to the beach. The sky lightens as we drive. Jess slips off her sandals and pulls her bare legs up to the seat, her denim shorts not covering much of those fine legs at all. As we drive, the only car on the road, the wind blows her hair back and she rests her chin on her hand, her elbow on the window ledge, staring out to sea. If someone asked me to take a picture of perfection, I would take her in this moment. And I would call it The Weight of the World.

  I understand her confusion. Hell, I feel it too. And I know her fears. Right now, they’re becoming mine, because if she runs, I think she’ll take a part of me with her. I can’t risk that. I have to take it easy. Even if she won’t accept my love, I have to keep her in my life, however she’ll have me.