Page 84 of Commitment Issues
Chapter Thirty-Four
Freddie
“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying.”
I look up from my phone, which I’m hiding under the table, and find Cosmo’s accusing stare boring into me.
“Of course I’m listening to you.” Which is only half true because I’ve been engaged in a text ping-pong with Elliot.
“If you’d rather spend the evening with Elliot, don’t let me stop you.” Cosmo might sound flippant but his downturned lips tell another story. I thumb a quick message over to Elliot and close down my phone.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and I mean it. I’m so caught up with Elliot, even when I’m not physically with him, that I have to be reminded that I have other people in my life. Like my best friend. “I really am sorry, but I’m all yours now.” Cosmo doesn’t look convinced and so I flutter my eyelashes at him which makes him smile.
I’ve spent a day in the university library and arranged to meet Cosmo after work. I haven’t really seen him very much lately.
His recent promotion’s keeping him busy, and he can be away for days on end. He’s been home for a couple of days, but I haven’t, because the truth is I’ve spent much of the time he’s been away at Elliot’s.
I’d got Cosmo’s text last night, asking me to meet him after work to go out for a few drinks before heading home, when I’d been entwined with Elliot on the sofa, with Jasper doing his best to join in. And I’d hesitated, which made me feel bad because what I really wanted was to race over to Elliot’s. So I’d hesitated, one half of me wanting to say yes, the other half trying to come up with an excuse which didn’t sound too lame, but the decision was made for me when Elliot said he was going to be working late tonight — and that I should never, ever, ignore my best friend.
“I’ll get us both another drink.” Before Cosmo can protest and say he’ll get them, I’m already up and heading to the bar. His unthinking generosity, when it comes to me, is another thing that sends a twinge of guilt to my stomach. There’s a lot of people and stuff in my life that I don’t really care about but Cosmo’s definitely, absolutely, not one of them.
The pub, tucked away in the heart of Soho, is busy. The small garden’s decked out with mirrors and fairy lights, and as I edge my way through the crush to get to the bar, I see somebody I recognise but I can’t think from where… and then it comes to me.
The café, Barista Boys, where I first met Elliot. It’s the big guy, Bernie. He’s at the bar with a group of friends, his arm slung around the shoulders of a smaller guy, who’s looking up at him as though he’s found the greatest gift in the world. The muscles in my chest tighten as I watch them, but I’ve no time to analyse what I’m thinking, or why, when the harassed barman asks me what I want.
“It’s good to see you know how to treat a boy,” Cosmo says, grabbing the crisps I’ve brought back along with our beers. “Drinks and dinner. Anybody would think you’re trying to get me to put out.”
I throw back my head and laugh. “You should be so lucky, you’re far too short for my tastes.”
“Hmm.” One brow arches up. It’s impressive, and I wish I could do it, but when I’ve tried Cosmo tells me it looks like I’m constipated. “It’s because you have a taste for men of your own height. Like Elliot. He’s tall.”
“Yeah,” I say, concentrating on the crisps in front of me, deliberately not meeting his eye.
“Are you blushing?”
“No, why would I be blushing?” Although I am. I can feel the heat throbbing in my cheeks.
“Yes, you are. I mention his name, and you go all red. Aww, cute,” he says, with a snigger.
I take a swig from my bottled beer to wet my suddenly parched mouth.
“Anyway, how is your boyfriend?”
The evil little short-arse grins at me over the rim of his bottle.
“We’re not boyfriends.” I do my best to stare him out, but I can’t help but be the one who blinks first. “Neither of us is looking for that. I told you we got together at the party—”
“I heard you. You know how fucking loud you are? It was pretty hot, all your moaning and groaning.”
“You were listening?”Oh, God, no…
Cosmo smirks. “Yeah, of course I was. If I didn’t know you were such a prude, I’d have come in and offered to join you.”
“No, I don’t believe you…”
“So, let me get this right,” he says, ignoring me. “After saying you weren’t going to get involved, when you got back from France, you then fuck his brains out — or he fucks yours, but whatever — at the party, andthenyou start seeing each other on a regular basis. That kind of sounds like what boyfriends do.” He sits back in his seat, a smug grin spread across his face.
“It’s not like that. I like his company and he likes mine. It’s a casual thing, neither of us are interested in getting involved.” The words crawl down my spine.
