Page 39 of Thick as Thieves
I don’t say a word.
“They didn’t,” he breathes out, aghast.
“Jonno, are you kidding me? You know?” I screech down the phone at him. For God's sake. He knew?
“Well, I didn’t know if Xander had the bottle. I suspected. But it seems he does keep surprising me. I’m assuming it was Xander?” He sounds so matter of fact.
“Yep. But, how did you know?” I can hardly get my words out. He knew and never said.
“James overheard them talking in Chile—bits and bobs—but it’s so obvious if you know them. I wondered if they’d ask. I know it’s something Xan has wanted for a long time, but I didn't think he’d go for it though. Kellen’s too worried you’d leave after what you did about France. Xander thinks more, and is, well, just more everything.” He laughs. “You worried?” He sounds so nonchalant.
“Yes. I have kids.”
My brain is trying to process the fact that he suspected this. And James? Really?
“James knows? Really? What did he say about it?” My heart is going at a rate of knots wondering what my son thinks of this. Us. What the hell has been going on? Right under my nose? I must be as blind as a bat.
“Seems ok with it. Said Xander was all over him right from the off, as much as Kell so—” He pauses and then says, “Did you not notice he was calling Xan Papa?”
Oh God. The signs have been there. I’ve obviously been breezing past them. Or, more likely, too scared to actually look.
“I did. I just thought he’d thought of another way to bug them.” I’m amazed. My brain is zinging all over the place to different times and situations now. Things said, sometimes in jest, sometimes not.
“Maybe ring James if you can, but he’s fine. He’s James, happy if you are.”
We sit in silence for a few minutes before he says, “Evie, they’re a lot. Do you think you can handle them both?”
I don’t answer for a minute, my mind conjuring up images of them. Beautiful, beautiful men. The pair of them. What the hell am I thinking? I must be deranged to be actually contemplating this.
“Don’t know, maybe, I’m not sure…”
My stomach feels like the bees have set off into a swarm, partying really hard in there. I feel a bit light headed. The stress is at crazy levels, my adrenaline must be through the roof.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you can.” He breaks my bee party up. “You have been for this last year, and you did before.” He’s so calming, I think he must be channelling Marshall.
Oh God, Marshall. What will he say? My nausea ramps back up.
“But we were never all together. It was only ever Kell. And we were eighteen-year-old kids, not adults with responsibilities.” I rationalise, my desperation evident in my voice. “We’ve other people to consider now. And you know how it’ll play out. I’m some sort of hussy. Two men tut, tut, tut. They’ll have their backs slapped, rock stars go, go, go.” I’m pumping my fist in the air. Imagining the two of them walking down an avenue of supporters, as if they’re at a football match and have secured the points with a winning goal. Slaps on the back, calls of support and adulation. I’m at the back, being jeered and catcalled.
Jonno drags me out of my own head. “So fucking what? You’re not the first down this road and you won’t be the last. Maybe the most well-known, though.” I feel him grin down the phone. He’s in the Kell and Xan camp of who gives a shit.
“Jonno, not helping,” I squeeze out.
“Do you want to know what I think you should do?” He’s assertive. I can almost feel him straightening up to tell me.
“Yes.” I’m begging for someone else to make this decision. Take all the responsibility away from me. Please do it, Jonno. Tell me what I should do.
“Right then. I would do it. Why the fuck not. If it all goes tits up, at least you can sell your story and make a fortune.” He’s laughing at that. But then his voice turns serious. “It’s really just an extension of how you all live anyway. Minus the sex of course. You haven’t had sex with Xan, have you?”
“No Jonno. I haven’t. But clearly I’ll have to if I say yes.” My voice is reaching fever pitch as I contemplate that one. “And as you well know, brother, I don’t need cash. Besides, if I divorced the bastards, you could steal all their money from their banks, so again, no need to sell a story.”
“Now you’re thinking like a Greystone. I love it, but still, I would do it.” He’s deadly serious now.
“You haven’t asked me if I love them, him, Xander.”
“No need to on that one, Kitten. You do. You snogged the face off Xander when you were fourteen. Blew his mind. Fucked Kell’s brains out of his head at sixteen, and again at thirty six. Not that he had much to start with.”
I puff out a sigh at his random cataloguing of my relationship thus far.
