Page 18 of Spiral
I nodded, unsure of how to go about opening up a conversation with the man after my bratty display. I picked up my steak knife and began cutting the charbroiled meat into small cubes. A few moments of quietude fell over our table while we dove into our food. The meat was tender and juicy, the potatoes coated with a garlic sauce that paired perfectly with the beef, and the broccoli was steamed to perfection.
I took a break to wipe my chin with a blue fabric napkin. Oli was chewing away merrily, his gaze meeting mine over the salt and pepper shakers in the center of our square table.
“If I were to try to apologize, what would be the best way?” I dared to ask and got a confused look. “Does he like flowers? Candy?”
“Oh.” He placed his fork on the edge of his plate as he swallowed then took a drink of ice water. “Well, honestly, I don’t think you need to buy him anything. And I don’t think either of you owe each other an apology. Misunderstandings happen. Maybe you could call him and say you’d like to start over? That is if you’re still interested in being in the study.”
“I feel I need to give it another go. I ran out on it, and that’s not me. I don’t just bolt when something unpleasant happens. I fight harder.”
“I know; I’ve seen that in you every time you’re on the ice.”
“Thanks.” I’d not said that for praise, although his words made me feel good. “It’s just odd,” I confessed, using my fork to move a fatty chunk of steak through the garlic sauce that had run off the potatoes. I peeked at Oli. His gaze met mine. I saw nothing judgmental or accusatory in his eyes. He could have been really pissy about me and his best friend. I’d ghosted Jamie after sleeping with him and then I had bolted on an important research study that his bestie was running. Not exactly batting a thousand with either man, to be honest.
“Why odd?” He pushed another half a buttered bun through the juices on his plate. A woman’s laugh carried over to us.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I think maybe we shouldn’t have had drunken sex that night.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No, no, not at all! It was the best sex…” He cocked an eyebrow. “Well, you don’t need to hear the graphic details. It was great, and I really wanted to be with him. I’ve been attracted to him for a while. But I have this past, and it’s all tangled up with Jamie and his brain and Leon and his brain and me and my brain.”
“That’s a lot of brains,” he commented dryly.
I snorted in amusement. “Yeah, a lot of brains. And mine is… mine is trying to sort itself.”
“If I can ask, this Leon, is that the man you were seeing a few years ago? Big, strapping German fellow?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He’s incredibly smart and incredibly controlling. I’m not sure why he keeps trying to win me back because when he had me all he did was tell me how useless and stupid I was. Shit, okay, that wasn’t supposed to come out over lunch. I’m sorry.”
“Nope, don’t be sorry.” He placed a hand on my arm and gave it a fatherly squeeze. “It explains a lot. I’m so sorry that man was so cruel to you. He sounds as though he needs a good shoulder check into the boards. Several times. With intent to injure.” That made me chuckle. “I don’t want to push too far into your friendship with Jamie. What I will do is say this. Jamie would never knowingly berate you or strive to make himself feel like the bigger man just to feed a massive ego. He’s far too kind.”
“I know, I do, I just…” I blew out a breath that billowed my cheeks. “It’s hard to trust again, you know? Every put-down Leon hurled at me is carved into my flesh, into my soul, and I’m trying to heal the wounds, but the scars are still tender.”
“Sounds like you and Jamie both have some rotten exes. That’s at least one thing you have in common. I wager if you two sat down and could keep your hands to yourselves for ten minutes, you’d discover you have more in common than you think. My friend may be incredibly smart but he’s also incredibly loving. Not many people would uproot their lives to come live with a buddy and his two kids. He’s just that special of a man.” He shook his head. “I’m also incredibly biased, so move at your own speed. Just know that Jamie would do anything to clear up this misunderstanding.”
I gave him a nod. We left that topic to wither for now, talking instead about hockey, and his kids. Nothing heavy. We’d already done the dense talk, and it had left me feeling lighter, and with some clarity of action.
It took me a few hours to work up the nerve to send out a simple text. With the memory of Jamie’s hot skin next to mine in a rumpled bed, I dictated a message, had the phone read it over for mistakes, found five—OMG, focus Craig—fixed it, and then sent it out into the world. Right to Jamie’s phone.
Hey, sorry about the study incident. Totes on me. If you’d like to have me back, I’d like to try again. ~ Craig
Chapter Nine
Jamie
The scentof stew from the slow cooker filled the kitchen, and at the kitchen table, the atmosphere bustled with the paper-and-pen-scratching, ultra concentration of homework time. Scarlett was showing off a colorful poster she’d crafted for a litter-picking event, vibrant and meticulously detailed, catching Oli’s attention the moment he walked past with a mug of coffee for him and an extra one for me. He hadn’t been home long but showered and dressed in his usual Storm T-shirt and shorts, he would always come and sit for homework time if he could.
“We all have homework!” Scarlett declared proudly, waving her poster at her dad.
Oli made all the right noises of approval. “Looks fantastic, Scarlett!” he praised, then leaned over to inspect Daisy’s spelling homework, his expression switching seamlessly to encouragement. “Can you spell that?” he asked her, as Daisy glanced up at him and wrinkled her nose.
“Because. B-E-C-A-U-S-E. Because.”
“That’s amazing; I can barely spell that,” Oli said and ruffled her hair.
While the girls were absorbed with their tasks, I spent any moment I wasn’t needed shuffling papers and peering atan iPad, scribbling notes intermittently, deeply engrossed in a different kind of study.
“What homework do you have? Doesn’t look like math,” Oli asked, glancing over my shoulder with a curious frown.
