Broken (13 page)

“I’ve had a really great day,” he says, cupping my cheek in his palm. I nestle into his gentle touch and my insides feel like they’re melting. “Thank you, Theodore.”

The use of my full name makes me smile. He’s the only person who’s ever called me that. I’ve been Theo, or T, to everyone since the day I was born. “You know, I think you’ve earned the right to call me Theo.”

His brilliant smile lightens his whole face. “I’m good with Theodore. I like the way it feels on my lips.”

Oh dear God
. He really isn’t helping my struggle with the sex ban.

“Will I ever understand you, James?”
Shit! Where the hell did that come from? What a nobhead.

His eyebrows pull together and his hand slowly slips from my face. “Probably not.”

Ouch
. His answer stings all the way to my core.

“I’m a very complicated man, Theodore.”

I’ve known this since the first time we met but hearing it aloud almost destroys me. That alone baffles me. How has this happened? This connection. This pull. This
need
I feel for him. It’s more than attraction. It’s a craving. An addiction. I feel like he could be the best thing that ever happened to me, or the most damaging. No in between.

“But I want to,” I say, the words cracking on my lips. “I want to understand you.
Know
you.”

“You don’t,” he replies without hesitation, without emotion or expression.

“You said you’d try.”

“And I will. I
am
. That doesn’t mean I think I
should
.”

Just when I think I’m breaking through he unravels it all with just one sentence.

“You don’t trust me.” It’s an accusation as opposed to a question.

“It’s not about trust,” he counters, squeezing his eyes closed. I can’t tell if he’s frustrated or in some kind of emotional pain. “Dammit, Theodore!”

Whoa.
He’s angry. My neck jerks back in response. “I’m sorry,” I say, but I don’t know if I mean it. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him, but maybe he shouldn’t have reacted like a dick.

“No.” James shakes his head, his annoyance dissolving into a sigh. “Don’t apologise. Not to me. I shouldn’t have snapped, and now I’ve ruined what’s been a perfect day with you.”

Taking his face in my hands, I kiss him. I kiss him because he needs it. I kiss him because
I
need it. I kiss him because it feels right.

“The day isn’t over yet,” I whisper against his lips.

He presses his cheek to mine and smiles, his trendy stubble scratching my skin, and once again everything is right with the world.

For now.

“Take me to your place.”

I don’t know why but his suggestion fills me with nerves. “Um…”

“I want to see where you live. Who you are. It’s only fair. You’ve been to
my
apartment,
and
stained my couch.”

Holy freaking shit. If my cheeks burn any hotter they will surely explode. “My flat isn’t…well, I doubt it’s up to your standard.”

“I’m not a snob, Theodore.” He sounds a little offended.

“And Tess is probably there, too.”

James raises an eyebrow. “I know how to converse.”

I feel oddly comforted by his sarcasm. It’s easier to understand than when he’s being cryptic.

“I’d like to meet your friend.”

He would?
James has never struck me as a people person.

“You look surprised.”

“No. It’s just, you’re not the most sociable person I’ve ever met.”

“She’s important to you, and you’re important to me. I want to meet her.”

I swear James Holden is the only person I know who can flip between being a conceited prick to perfectly charming, several times, during a single conversation.

“Okay then,” I agree, unsure of my decision.

“Your car or mine?”

“Yours.” Not only is my car a rust bucket on wheels, the passenger footwell is currently filled with McDonald’s wrappers and rubbish. “I’ll pick mine up tomorrow.”

Knowing they lock the park gates at night, James waits for me in his car while I move mine to the roadside of a neighbouring street. I make my way back to him, feeling inexplicably nauseous, and pray the whole way that Tess doesn’t humiliate me.

I don’t speak while we take the stairs up to my floor. James is what can only be described as fucking loaded and I can’t help feeling embarrassed, not good enough. Twisting my key in the lock, I half-hope Tess isn’t here, but I know she will be, and I’m right.

“I bought mince so you could-” She cuts herself off when she turns around and sees me,
us
. “Well fuck a duck.”

I roll my eyes before shooting her a death glare. “This is Tess,” I say to James.

Stepping forward, he offers a hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Tess.”

Please play nice.

“And you, David.”

Bitch!

“Um, my name is James,” he corrects, pursing his eyebrows in confusion.

Tess shrugs. “You’ll always be David to me.”

James looks to me for clarification but I ignore him. I’ll tell him later. Maybe. Unless Tess gets there first. Right now, she’s too busy ramming her nose into his neck.

“What are you doing?” James asks. He must regret coming here already. I sure as hell do.

“She’s sniffing you. For a lesbian, she sure has a fascination with how men smell.” My explanation sounds ridiculous, and that’s because it is.

“A man’s aftershave says a lot about them,” she says, as if her weird behaviour makes complete sense. “Armani,” she decides.

I’ve never tried to guess. I just know he smells delicious.

“You have a good nose,” James says. “And what does that say about me?”

“That you’re not cheap. You’re driven, controlling, intelligent and cocky.”

James smiles, shaking his head a little. “And you got all that from my aftershave?”

No. She got all that from
me
.
I’m planning her murder as we speak.

“What were you saying about mince?” I ask Tess, diverting her attention away from James. He doesn’t seem bothered, but
I
am.

“I fancied shepherd’s pie, so I bought the ingredients for you.”

Tess is more than capable of cooking, she just chooses not to.

“Do you like shepherd’s pie?” I ask James. Crap I’m nervous. I haven’t even got a sofa for him to sit on while he eats. He must think I’m a tramp.

“I do. I had it last night in fact.”

Damn
.

“Well you haven’t had Theo’s,” Tess interrupts. “It’s amazing.”

I smile awkwardly while Tess plonks herself down on the living room floor in front of the forty-two inch smart TV. It’s probably the most expensive thing in the whole flat and I only have it because my brother upgraded and usually gives me first refusal on his cast offs.

“You’re not helping?”

She doesn’t look back as she starts flicking through the channels. “David can help you.”

I want to kill her
.

Much to my surprise, James pushes his sleeves up to his elbows. “What can I do?”

I’ve never imagined him cooking, which on reflection seems stupid. He lives alone and, given the fact he’s alive, clearly eats. But still, I feel like I can check off another box on the Getting to Know James Holden list.

“You could chop up and fry some onions while I peel the potatoes?” It comes out like a question.

Stepping up to the sink, James washes his hands. Such a simple, routine task and yet I can’t stop staring as he lathers the soap between his fingers. I think I’m being inconspicuous with my ogling until, suddenly, his wet hands dart to my face.

They’re freezing as he runs his palms down my cheeks, making me gasp. “You
arsehole!
” I yell in shock, my laughter betraying the annoyance I want to feel.

“It’s water, not acid. Stop overreacting.”

I adore his playful side and it always seems to appear when I least expect it. My nerves slip away with every word we exchange and by the time dinner is almost ready, I’m completely at ease with him being here.

“Wait, what are you…” James watches with a curious eye as I start opening a tin of baked beans. “You’re putting
beans
in it?”

Grinning, I tip the contents of the tin into the mince. “Just trust me.”

He looks unsure but doesn’t argue. “So why did Tess call me David? Do you bring a lot of men up here?”

The smile I’m wearing evaporates immediately. “What? No!” Silently, I curse myself for being unable to prevent the blush invading my cheeks. “Obviously when we first, um,
met
, I didn’t know your name. I described you as a younger looking David Gandy, and it kind of stuck. With Tess anyway.”

I’m too embarrassed to look at him but I imagine he’s smirking. “David Gandy, eh? I’m flattered.”

“I don’t see it so much anymore. Now, you just look like James. But because Tess is an arsehole intent on humiliating me, I doubt she’ll ever use your real name again.”

“Well, it
is
my middle name so she won’t be entirely incorrect.”

“You’re kidding? Your name is James David Holden?”

“According to my bank statements.”

Another box checked. “It’s ready.” I’m relieved to be able to utter those words and deflect from the whole David Gandy scenario.

“You’re not grilling it?”

My nose scrunches. “I don’t like crusty mash. I will if you prefer, though.”

James raises his hands. “Nope. Fluffy mash sounds good to me.”

I’ve made shepherd’s pie a thousand times, but as I plate up I can’t stop hoping it tastes okay. The kitchen is tiny and I can reach the counter holding our plates and the fridge behind me without taking a step. Pulling out the grated cheese, I sprinkle some on Tess’ mash before asking James if he wants some too.

“Please,” he says, nodding. He watches me scatter some onto his food and then raises an eyebrow when I return the pack to the fridge. “You don’t like cheese?”

“Can’t stand it, unless it’s on pizza. I like pizza.”

“And cheese and onion pie,” Tess cuts in, joining us in the kitchen.

“That’s not proper cheese,” I argue.

“Well it’s not fucking plastic.”

Tutting, I grab her plate, shoving it into her chest. “Eat,” I say. If her mouth is full, she can’t bloody talk.

She struts away, laughing, and I realise I don’t have anywhere for James to sit. He must’ve noticed my lack of sofa when he arrived but, still, it leaves me feeling awkward. “I, um, I don’t have much furniture yet,” I all but whisper.

Shrugging, James takes his plate, walks the few steps over to where Tess is sitting and joins her on the floor. The sight of them together makes me smile. Despite my embarrassment about living in an unfurnished box, I like him being here.

“You gonna treat us to cutlery or what, T?”

If she didn’t have her back to me I’d flip her the middle finger.
Lazy bitch
.

Plucking three forks from the drawer, I make my way over to them, then pause and turn back to fetch some knives. James is a formal kind of man. I imagine he uses knives.

Sitting down, I pass out the cutlery and, true to form, Tess makes a snarky remark. “Knives too, eh? I didn’t realise you were royalty, David.”

Laughing, James starts tucking in using only his fork. I don’t know if that’s how he’d normally eat, or if it’s a result of Tess’ comment. More to the point, I don’t know why I’m obsessing over fucking cutlery.

“I’m sure Theodore thinks I’m posher than I actually am,” James teases, offering me a sideward glance.

Tess snorts, presumably at the use of my full name.

“But I grew up in a terraced house in Wythenshawe. My father’s company didn’t hit the big leagues until I was in college.”

I can’t take my eyes off his face, enthralled by everything he has to say, every layer he peels away from his guarded heart. He fascinates me.

“I went to a regular school, ate fish finger butties for tea, worked in a transport office when I dropped out of college after a couple of months…”

Wow
. And here’s me thinking he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. I feel like a bit of a judgemental dick now.

“I’m just a regular guy,” he tacks on, shrugging. “And on another note, this tastes amazing.”

My lips twist into a proud smile. “It’s the baked beans.”

“I’ll be sure to try it out. Where did you learn to cook?”

“My grandma. I used to stay with her a lot during the school holidays when I was little. She made everything from scratch. Meals, bread, cakes…I used to love watching her.”