Page 6 of No Kind Words

“There’s no way I’m ready for him to meet you.” I chuckle, but I want Jamie to meet my friends. I can’t remember ever feeling like this about another man I’ve been with.

I take Drew’s order and get busy making it, all the while thinking of Jamie and what we could do on Saturday. It’s too early to ask him to stay. Isn’t there a third-date rule? Does that mean it’s okay on the third date or after the fourth? Now I’m overthinking it.

“What time are you coming over?” I ask Jamie. We’ve been seeing each other for six months now, and I finally feel like we’re getting serious. We spend weekends together at either of our places. This weekend, it’s his turn to come to mine. We had trips away, spent time in London at the museums, stayed a weekend in the Peak District, where we both decided that having a dog would be a great idea. Thoughts of moving in and forever sort of feelings run through me. He’s everything I’ve been looking for. Or waiting for. I’m not sure which is more valid. We’ve even got to the L word. I couldn’t believe he said it before me, but it didn’t take me a heartbeat to say it back.

For tonight, I’ve finished clearing up the house and getting all his favourite food together, and a bottle of wine we both love is breathing on the countertop.

“I’ll be with you at about seven. I’ve got a couple of things to sort out at work. Please tell me we’re staying in tonight. I’m exhausted.” He works as a deputy headteacher at the main secondary school ten miles away. He’s only worked there for a year, moving down here with a promotion. His ex didn’t want to leave Bristol. They tried long distance, but it didn’t work, and they split up. It was messy and acrimonious, leaving him hurt and alone.

I understand how he feels, but it’s not as if Jethro and I had a meaningful adult relationship. That was stripped away from us before we had the chance. I do know how it feels to be the one left behind.

We’re not doom and gloom, though. In fact, I have had more fun and laughter with Jamie than anyone else in many years. I’m trying not to think too far ahead, but we could be good together in the long term. He wants the same things as I do—marriage and kids.

When the knock on the door comes, my heart beats faster.

“Hi.” I open the door and take in the sight of this gorgeous man. I lean in and press a kiss to his lips. He smiles against my mouth, then kisses me back. “Hi to you too.”

It’s an easy evening. We drink the delicious wine he brought with him and eat all the charcuterie board. It’s not until we’re going to bed that he drops a bombshell.

“Duncan called me last night.” He carries on unbuttoning his shirt, but I stop undressing with my fingers on the button of my jeans.

This isn’t going to be bad news for me, for us, is it? He wouldn’t have left it this late in the evening if he was planning to break up with me. “Really? What did he want?” I know they hadn’t been in contact for months. Jamie has, on more than one occasion, said he has no interest in him.

“I don’t know. It was all very strange. All he wanted to know was if I’m okay and if I’m in a new relationship. He didn’t say much at all.”

“Did you tell him about us?” His ex sounds like he’s fishing, but I’d put money on him already knowing. He’s spoken to someone still in contact with Jamie, most likely a family member. They’re all still living in Bristol, and he and Duncan had been together a long time. Duncan would know them well.

“Of course I did. I took great pleasure in it. How happy I am with you and that we’re getting serious. I want him to know I’ve moved on and not to call me again.” Jamie steps up to me, slides his hands around my neck and into my hair, and brushes his lips against the shell of my ear. “You’re the only man I want.”

My clothes are off in a matter of seconds, and before I know it, I’m on my back on the bed with my heart pounding. Jamie crawls up my body and straddles my chest, his eyes boring into mine. “Do you want to suck my dick?”

I don’t answer. Instead, I prop up on my elbows and open my mouth.

The next day, we’re happy to lounge around the house. I attempt to teach him how to make pasta and a fresh tomato sauce. We end up in a floury and sauce mess, but it tastes delicious. And on the plus side, we’re having fun.

Jamie has had a tough work week. We’ve hardly been able to talk, and when we have, it’s been rushed sentences before he had to go again. The Ofsted inspection has got everyone at the school stressed out, but I thought he would enjoy getting away from his place and meeting my friends. It’s crazy that after all this time, we still haven’t managed to get everyone together for a night out.

Parking is easy at his apartment block, and I slot into one of the visitor spaces. I grab the pizza box from the passenger seat and get out of the car. I have the entry code to the building and shoot him a text as I enter the lift. He’s only on the fourth floor, but I’m not in the mood for that sort of cardio on a Friday night.

The door is shut, which is strange as he usually opens it after getting my text so I can walk in. I knock once. “Hey, babe, it’s me.”

Footsteps walk down the hallway, and the latch clicks open. From the moment I see his face, I know something is wrong. He’s in his bathrobe, and his hair is wet. Guilt is written in large neon letters above his head, of what I’m not sure.

“Benny? This is unexpected. What are you doing here?”

Okay, what’s with the weird panic in his voice? Is work really stressing him out this much? “I know you’re having a nightmare week, but I thought it would be great for you to escape all your notes and reports, and unbelievably, all my friends are about tonight, so we could meet up with them.”

When Jamie doesn’t say anything or move to let me in, I look at him closer. “What’s up?”

He seems to be in complete shock. His hand is still on the door handle as if he’s going to shut it on me. What’s going on? I notice movement behind him, farther down the hall, and I glance past his shoulder and see the one person I never wanted to meet—Duncan. Not just standing there, but standing naked apart from a towel around his waist. His hair is wet too. I’ve interrupted them.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” It all clicks into place, the rushed conversations, the being too busy to talk. It’s because Jamie’s been lying to me. “How long has this been going on? Y’know what? Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

His cheeks are flushed, whether in embarrassment or guilt, I don’t know. “I’m sorry, Benny.” Is that all he has to say?

“No, you’re not. You wouldn’t be doing this again with him if you were sorry. You’d be telling him that you were with someone, and he’s wasting his time. That you weren’t going to put up with his gaslighting and have moved on. You’re supposed to tell him you love me.”

“It’s not like that. He’s changed. He’s asked me to marry him.”

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