I Hate Summer (16 page)

“You’re such a fucking whore, Ide.”

I laughed brightly and pushed myself up so I was kneeling.

“Hey, it’s not my fault everyone finds me irresistible.” I trailed a hand along his sleeping bag where I knew his chest was; then with a last smirk, I got to my feet and clambered into my bed.

“Sweet dreams, Trys.” I kept my voice low and suggestive, holding his gaze with mine until I flicked the lights off. I turned over and was glad the dark would hide my own irritation as I was left to stew in sexual frustration of my own making.

I could only hope he found somewhere else to live quickly.

T
HERE
WAS
something to be said about the fact that it was the middle of the afternoon when Theo rang me next. It was Friday, I was done with uni for the week, and I was on my way home from the gym, so I relaxed my stride into an easy stroll as I answered the call.

“Ye moved to a new time zone and not told me?” I answered cheerily, even though I knew that there was only going to be one thing this was about.

“
What the hell are ye doing, Idrys?
”

I rolled my eyes at him for good measure and feigned ignorance. “Nice to hear from ye too, Theo. I’m currently on my way back from the gym, why what’re ye up t’?”

“
Not funny.
” He was right, but I chuckled anyway. “
Why the hell is that dickhead in yer house, and why is Jorja ringing me, asking me t’ get ye t’ answer her calls when just last week we had a conversation exactly the other way around.
”

I shrugged even though he wouldn’t see and sighed even though he
would
hear.

“Trystan’s staying wi’ me while he finds somewhere t’ stay.”

“
Aye, I know
why
. I want t’ know why the hell ye said yes.
”

Wasn’t that just the million dollar question? Trystan Jackson had been living in my house—more specifically my room, for a week now. After an awkward Saturday and Sunday I’d hardly seen him. He left at six every morning and he didn’t get back before seven every evening, and after stuffing his face with food he’d crash on the roll mat to search for houses. I’d been out the door at nine most evenings and he’d been asleep by the time I got in, but the little conversation I’d had with him I’d found out he’d seen a couple of places in his lunch hour and that none had been any good.

But I let out another sigh, because right then it wasn’t even Trystan that I was pissed off with.

“Ye know she tried t’ call me last week, the day I talked wi’ ye.” It was Theo’s turn to sigh, which told me that if Jorja hadn’t told him straight up, then he’d worked it out himself. I carried on regardless. “After two fricking months o’ ignoring me because o’ that self-centered asshole, she wants t’ get in touch t’ ask me t’ do him a
favor
. She can go t’ hell, fer all I care.” I’d trailed off to a hissed whisper because thinking about it was making me lose my temper all over again.

“
Then why not just say no. He’s a bullying asshole an’ I think it’s a bloody ridiculous idea having him around. Especially with that douchebag James still on the scene.
”

Theo’s anger stilled some of my own, leaving me feeling a strange mixture of agreement and a need to defend my guest. All week Trystan had been more than fine. I mean, sure, I hardly saw the guy for more than two hours a day, and he was still kind of acerbic, but he hadn’t called me a fag, he hadn’t belittled my sexuality, or my late nights. If I was honest it was kind of disconcerting.

I found myself entertaining the notion that he might have actually listened to what I’d said last week. As I walked I stared at the gray-coated sky and wondered when I was going to see my first flying pig.

“The guy just needs somewhere t’ stay. I know the only reason Jorja called was ’cause she thought I’d leave him hanging wi’out her t’ talk me int’ giving him a hand. Well ye can tell her that I’m not a complete twat.”

“
Yeah? Well I think yer an idiot.
”

“I’ve known the guy fer most o’ my life, he needs a favor, it’s not like I can’t cope wi’ him fer a week. An’ if he pulls anything, I’ll kick his ass on the street. I’m a big guy, Theo. I can look after myself.”

“
We all know how well
that
turns out.
”

“That was uncalled for,” I deadpanned back and Theo sighed a quick apology.

“
Sorry, sorry. I’ve had yer sister on the phone t’ me for like an hour already, an’ the hunt have been on my ass because the grouse are apparently—
” He stopped with a weary chuckle. “
Which ye really dun need t’ know about right now.
” He was quiet for a moment and I listened to the sound of Theo clicking his tongue and the silence of him sorting out his head. The guy really needed to spend less time worrying about me, but it was nice to have someone to talk to who wasn’t instantly enamored by Trystan and his infuriating charm. “
What ye up t’ this evening?
”

“I’m going out wi’ Ashlie.” I couldn’t keep the smile from returning to my face, especially when Theo responded with predictable distaste. His reluctant truce with Dan did not extend to the other members of my bizarre relationship.

“
Urgh, I should know better than t’ ask. I dun know what that boy must do in bed, I wouldn’t put up wi’ Scarlett Johansson if she was as irritating as he is.
”

“I’ll tell ye next time we have a chance for a few beers, eh?”

Theo did a very unattractive snort down the phone and barked something at Tess in the background. “
I think it’ll need t’ be more than drunk. I take it this shit wi’ Jorja means ye still have no plan t’ come back?
”

“Ask me again in a couple o’ days.”

“
I feel like an abandoned wife
,” he mocked in a disturbingly accurate gay lisp.

“I’ll bring ye flowers t’ cheer ye up?”

He laughed and switched back to his regular gruff tones. “
Beer works better, dickhead. Look after yerself, and try not t’ do anything more stupid than usual, eh?
”

“Love ye too, Theo.”

“
G’bye Idrys….
” Theo hung up and I was chuckling to myself for most of the way home.

A
T
ONE
in the morning I paused in the doorway to my bedroom and gave a weary shake of my head. Since the first night Trystan hadn’t woken up when I’d come in late, not for Dan again last Sunday or Echo last Wednesday or that random whose name I’d already forgotten. Tonight was no different, and I surveyed him for a moment with reluctant appreciation as he lay there, irritatingly good-looking and oblivious, with one leg cocked out of the duvet and his neck arched like it was inviting a kiss. No different from every other night this week, except for the duvet.

My
duvet.

I pressed the door shut behind me as I weighed up my options. I’d spent the evening with Ashlie and all I really wanted to do was get into bed and go to sleep, but I stood in the middle of my bedroom for a moment and studied the dark-haired sleeping form. He hadn’t been a pain, and he hadn’t made any comments—snide or otherwise—about my frequent late nights. In fact all week, he’d been unnervingly
nice
, and now he lay there dead to the world. In my bed. Looking exasperatingly molestable.

But I kind of wanted to laugh, because, in what I could only assume was some kind of attempt to keep himself from straying, he was lying like a bloody sarcophagus along one side of the bed.

I couldn’t really blame the guy for getting up there. I mean, it was fine sleeping on a floor when there was no other option, and probably when the bed was full, but I know I would have been tempted by a bed I knew was going to be empty for most of the night. Still, it was funny that after everything, he was trying so hard to obey my rules and stop himself from straying.

I was torn, because I was tired and I just wanted to get into my bed. I glanced at the roll mat and seriously considered sleeping on the floor. But it was my damn bed, and I’d just had quite the workout with Ashlie, and my hips really didn’t like the idea of sleeping on the floor. I couldn’t quite believe what I was doing as I pulled my shirt and jeans off and tugged on a pair of pajama bottoms.

He’d gone next to the wall, so at least I didn’t have to climb over him. I lay there next to him in a similar pencil-like position and couldn’t help but think about the last time we’d slept next to each other. The last night in Scotland the rain had beat down on the tent, but it had still been so hot and muggy. I’d slept badly for four nights, jerking awake at every small movement because the one time Trystan had woken up near me, he’d punched me and it had hurt.

I sighed because Ashlie had asked me to stay at his, and right now I was kind of wishing that I had.

“Urgh, sorry, Ide, my back,” Trystan’s voice was muffled as he shuffled a little closer to the wall. At least his arms and legs were pointed away from me.

“Whatever,” I muttered and flicked onto my front. Thankfully it didn’t take long for me to slip into oblivion.

I woke up feeling odd, and I wasn’t sure why. It took me a moment to realize it was because I’d fully expected to wake up with a six foot two guy pawing at me in his sleep. I flicked my head to where Trystan was obediently curled up on one side of the bed. Well, that made life just a little simpler at least. I rolled out of bed to head down for a shower. I had a job to get to.

“Mmm, morning, Ide,” Trystan greeted me as I got back from the shower. He was perched on the edge of the bed looking sleep-tousled and gorgeous with his pleasant six-pack sticking out of the top of his pajama bottoms—I’ll admit there are worse things to come back to.

“Yeah, morning,” I replied as I kept my back to him and tugged boxers and jeans on under my towel and a shirt on over my chest.

“Look, about the bed, I’m sorry, but my back was killing me and I knew you’d be late, so I figured you’d just kick me out when you got in.”

“It’s fine, Trys. I told ye: ye can sleep on the bed as long as ye don’t touch me, which ye didn’t, so?”

“Oh, I guess you did. Hmm, good night?”

“Yeah, ye after details? First of all we—”

“No,” he cut in, and I sniggered because I’d had no intention of actually telling him what I’d done to Ashlie. Mmm, that boy was delicious; his slightly irritating personality was more than made up for by his sweet, sweet ass.

“So, what ye up to today? I’ve got to work,” I asked quickly to distract myself from memories I did not need to be recalling right now.

“You still modeling? I wondered why you’d kept your hair long.” I nodded as I tied it back off my face. Other than washing there was no point in me doing anything to myself as I’d be polished, primped, and generally made up once I got to work.

“Yeah, well, the money is good and the work is easy: go to the gym, then stand and have my photo taken.”

“Fair enough; I’ve got a couple of house viewings this afternoon, what time do you finish? Fancy coming with?”

“Oh,” I bumbled because I hadn’t expected the question. “Sure, I should be done by three; that work?” Trystan nodded absently, he was palming his phone.

“Yeah, first one is at half past.”

“Okay, well, I’ve got to dash, but I’ll text ye the address, come meet me. Ye know where everything is; help yerself.” I grabbed my bag and headed out. There was a taxi waiting for me at the front of the house, and I slipped into the backseat and got the address from the driver so I could text it to Trystan. I couldn’t help but feel slightly like I was organizing a date or something.

The job was a pain in the arse. There were supposed to be three models, but one of them turned up late and the other one was a no-show. Then halfway through the shoot, Meredith decided that if there were only two of us, our outfits and makeup weren’t quite right so we had to go and change completely.

“Guys, I need a break,” I announced as the latest
discussion
between the photographer and designer dissolved into yet another bickering session. I didn’t wait for an answer. The clock on the far wall said it was five to three, and with a rumble of annoyance I went through to the reception. Trystan was sitting on the far side; one of his ankles was slung over his knee, there was a portfolio on his lap, and the receptionist was sitting next to him fawning and batting her eyelashes. I rolled my eyes.

“Trys,” I grumbled because I was in a bad mood anyway and I was going to be in a worse one now because I was dressed in a fucking ridiculous suit and I had more makeup on than my sister wore on a night out. But at least I looked like a guy this week.

He looked up and laughed. “Ide?”

“Who the hell d’ye think it is?”

“Well, I don’t know.” He stood and looked me up and down and his eyes were filled with mirth. “You look like one of those puffy magazine boys.”

“Yeah, and I’m getting paid three-fifty a day. How much do ye get paid, Trys?”

“You got a pay rise?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I threatened to cut my hair. They almost started crying.”

“You coming to look at houses dressed like that?” His eyes drifted down to my chest that was bare beneath the satin suit jacket I was wearing.

“Yeah, ’bout that. We’re running late, so I’ll have t’ stand ye up. Sorry.”

“Eeee-drys,” the whiney voice of the design artist came through from the studio, and I ground my teeth as the small woman came into reception.

“Have ye finished arguing yet?”

“I pay you to look pretty, not give me lip, now….” Meredith trailed off as she saw Trystan and I literally saw her eyes light up. “You called someone else from your agency?”

“No, Trystan is a friend.” I could almost see exactly what was coming and it pissed me off. She came over and Trystan watched wide-eyed as she pulled his T-shirt up and revealed the pleasantly tanned and toned muscle of his chest and abs.

“So when I asked if anyone knew a nice torso model this morning and you stayed quiet, you were just lying?” she asked me.