I Hate Summer (28 page)

“Well yeah, but seriously, I’m not used t’ guys not just throwing themselves at me. It’s probably because I’m a bit, ah,
promiscuous
, so people just figure they’ll play along.”

“
Promiscuous
?” Trystan laughed. “You’re completely lacking in morals and pretty much a dirty little man-slut….” He squared himself in front of me, and he met my arched look with a smirk. It wasn’t like I could—or would—get offended by what he said; it was true and had never really bothered me.

“Yeah,
and
? I know what I am. I like sex and guys take advantage of that and just throw themselves at me.”

Trystan gave a small sigh as the playful sparkle to his eyes turned serious. “Yeah. Look, Ide, I’m not an idiot; I know people don’t just change because some guy starts sleeping in their bed. It’s not like I don’t realize that some of why you haven’t been sleeping around is down to that shit with James. But… I guess what I’m trying to say is: when you get your head sorted, can you just warn me or give me a chance before you just start throwing yourself at other guys again?”

Shit.
Less than twelve hours, that was all he’d managed before my past had snuck into the conversation.

“Look, Trys.” He looked surprisingly despondent, which was odd on him. But I was struggling to find the right words to say what I wanted. I wasn’t used to this. I slept with people and then I left them and slept with someone else. I didn’t make promises to be exclusive, and I didn’t care when people got upset with what I did. Or at least I hadn’t.

“I get what yer saying, but—” I tried to start again, but yet again Trystan cut me off.

“I know, shit, sorry, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He turned away from me to finally scoop his phone up off the bed.

“Ye going to emote like a girl or listen to what I’m going t’ say?” I asked archly.

That pulled a look of irritation onto his face that was much more like the Trystan I was used to dealing with. He turned back to me and crossed his arms, looking peeved but still concerned.

“Look, ye said ye like me, right? Is it just that ye like how I look? Because if it is, I really think ye should try experimenting wi’ some other tall blond,” I said as I backed away to lean against the edge of my desk.

“It’s not like I haven’t considered that,” Trystan grumbled, looking and sounding annoyed. “After Scotland, I messed around with a couple of guys, and it was okay, but nothing special. I find guys attractive, but I haven’t put up with this past month of shit because of how you look, Ide. Like I said last night: I’m probably an idiot for it, but I like you. Being with you is fun, the craziness and the teasing—and the sex was fucking incredible. But I’m a possessive guy and I just… Ah shit.” He drifted his gaze up to linger on the damp-marbled ceiling as his explanation faded to a muttered curse.

Well I definitely couldn’t deny the sex part. As for the rest of it…. I considered him as he stood cross-armed and defensive in the middle of my room. I let my gaze slip down the sculpted lines of his torso, and just watching him made my blood simmer. The sight of him always had, from when we’d been kids and he’d been a bastard, to now when he was standing there asking me for something he didn’t really believe I could do.

He didn’t even know the half of it.

Still leaning back against my desk, I pressed my palm against my forehead. This was ridiculous. Even if I changed, everyone around me would still be the same. This thing with Trystan was going to end exactly how every other relationship I’d been in had ended—the whole two of them.

I cracked an eye open; Trystan was watching me, a mixture of resignation and annoyance contorting his features.

“I’ll go.” He reached for the T-shirt he had discarded last night, a long breath escaping through his nose as he snagged it from the floor.

I knew exactly what I should do. I should tell him he was right and let him go, and then I should go to the bar and fuck this stupid fixation out of me with someone whose name I didn’t know.

But I didn’t want some random with no name, and I didn’t want Trystan to go find some other tall blond to experiment on.

With a click of my tongue I reached out and snatched his top from his hand.

“I didn’t say that shit last night just so I could blow ye again.” I gave him a pointed look and irritation joined the other emotions playing across his features.

My laugh was slightly bitter and I tried to get control of the frustration that was making it hard not to scowl at him. I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and leveled my gaze on him.

“Look, Trys, I didn’t say I’ll go exclusive t’ soothe yer fricking pride, and I didn’t let ye fuck me on some kind of whim.” I held his gaze, making sure he believed what I was saying because there was no way I wanted to do this twice. “Ye were right, if I wanted Dan I could’ve had Dan or Echo or yer brother or anyone I fricking wanted. Anyone who wasn’t some irritatingly possessive, bi-curious straight guy who’s bullied me for half o’ ma life.”

I cocked an eyebrow as I watched him bite back some comment. But he kept his thoughts to himself and his arms crossed against his chest as he waited for me to continue. I shifted slightly against the desk, feeling the familiar warmth in my hips and lower back that came after good sex, slightly more of a sting this morning because it had been such a bloody long time since I’d last been with someone and Trystan had really gone to town.

He took the number of guys I’d been topped by to four, and that was a number that I really didn’t want to think about.

“I like sex—love it in fact—but I don’t
do
being fucked, Trys. I don’t know what Jorja has told ye and what ye’ve worked out for yerself, but I wasn’t being stubborn in Scotland: I just don’t bottom. Yer the third person I’ve let anywhere near my ass, and frankly, the idea that I let someone fuck me who has never given or received anal before is fricking laughable.”

Trystan had dropped his arms from across his chest and was looking at me with his head cocked to one side. A range of emotions played across his face that I would rather not decipher, but I kept going because I needed to get this over and done with.

“So I’m not likely t’ go out and pull some random to fuck me anytime soon. Plus, I think we’ve already established that if I was in the mood for fucking around yer brother’s chastity might be another degree less intact.”

He scowled at me in silence. I gave a hitch of my shoulders and carried on even though I really needed to shut the hell up.

“Whatever, Trys. At the end o’ the day, it’s yer fricking choice whether ye trust me or not, just like it was last night when ye decided t’ fuck me even though ye knew what I was like. I’m not saying it’s going t’ be easy; in fact yer probably going t’ hate it and dump my ass like every fucker else. Just don’t dance around it like a twat. I let ye top me because I’m a fricking idiot, it’s like ye said: yer fun to be around, I enjoy messing wi’ ye and waking up with yer ugly mug pressed into my neck and yer fat sweaty legs tangled in mine. And possibly just a little bit because ye have a fucking great body.”

I finished with an exaggerated leer as I realized I had said far more than I had intended to. But I must have said something right, because despite everything I could see him trying not to grin. He took a half step forward and fixed me in those satin eyes of his; there was a mixture of smirk and curiosity in them that was hot and kind of disturbing.

“What?” I snapped to stop myself from spouting more nonsense.

“I’m just trying to work out if you just said you liked me.”

“Pfft,” I squawked as I pushed myself forward off the desk so that I was square in front of him, meeting him eye to eye as I pressed my tongue against my teeth and his shirt against his chest. Then I leaned forward and ghosted a kiss against the corner of his lips, feeling soft mouth and the faint rasp of his stubble before I lifted off and met his smirk with my own. “Don’t get carried away. I don’t ‘like ye;’ yer a convenience.”

Trystan wrapped his hand round the back of my head, tugging my lips down on top of his. He started it rough, bruising his lips against mine, forcing his tongue straight into the cavern of my mouth. I melted against him, humming slightly against the pleasant wash of warmth inside of me. Then he got softer and softer, his tongue gently pressing against mine, his lips teasing and caressing and his other hand slipped around my waist, pulling me gently and possessively against him. I followed his kiss as he broke it off, and I realized I was staring up at him with rather too much affection mixed in with my annoyance.

“Well I’ll just have to try harder, then, won’t I?” he said with a soft smile.

W
ELL
,
GETTING
some work done before I met Patrick had gone down the drain. Quite literally, because I’d ended up having to take yet
another
shower. That made three in a single twelve-hour period. Even by the standards of my worst pre-Dan days that was impressive. So I’d been rushing and Trystan had taken me up on the offer to come climbing that I’d given before I’d really thought about it. Which is how I found myself staring up at exactly what I hadn’t wanted to: Trystan’s Greek-god-back stretching and contorting as he made his way up one of the more challenging courses at the local climbing center.

I grimaced and turned away just as Patrick finished and dropped down from his run. Because there were three of us, we were using the automated belay equipment, and it was probably a good thing as my concentration was all over the place.

“You want to come out for some bluffs this weekend?” Patrick asked, talking to me and watching Trystan. “The weather is supposed to be pretty nice.”

“Sorry, Patrick, I told my sister I’d go home for a visit. I’ve not seen her in a few months, so I can’t really cancel.”

“Fair enough. So—?” Patrick glanced round at me with a curious look on his face. “He’s pretty good?” he pressed when I didn’t volunteer anything further.

“Yeah,” I added rather unhelpfully and resisted the temptation to turn back and stare at Trystan as he made the course he was on look completely effortless. We hadn’t climbed this summer because the end of the holiday had been too wet, but I’d climbed with him back in the day, and I knew he still did it because he’d mentioned it a couple of times. I just hadn’t gotten round to inviting him out because either one or both of us had been busy or we’d not been talking to each other.

Patrick got to the point. “Any reason this is the first time you’ve brought him out? You could’ve invited him the other weekend.”

“We weren’t really getting on then,” I answered honestly.

“Why does that not surprise me?” said Patrick with a roll of his eyes. His gaze drifted over my shoulder and looked appreciative. I kind of wanted to see what Trystan was doing that was good enough to impress Patrick. But I kept my gaze fixed on the guy on the floor.

“What
is
going on, Ide?” Patrick asked as he finally looked back down at me. “You turn up with him like you’re best buddies, when the last time you mentioned him you were bad-mouthing him. Of course the time before that you seemed to be getting on okay, and then there’s your reaction on the phone when he called you that time.”

Well hell, didn’t that just sum up mine and Trystan’s relationship?

“Poor Ide is just emotionally retarded, can’t accept that he finds me irresistible, eh, Ide?” Trystan’s amused tone sounded behind me.

I twisted to find he’d already managed to finish one of the hardest courses in the complex. Which was fine, but it was only his third run of the day, he’d never done this particular ascent before, and it wasn’t like anyone had been pointing him. I glanced at the course behind him and sighed; what had I really expected? Of course Trystan wasn’t going to be merely good.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Trys.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Were we not paying ye enough attention? Do it again and we’ll clap this time, promise.”

Patrick just sniggered.

“What?”

That only made Patrick laugh some more. “I get it now.”

“Get what?” I replied, probably not just a little bitter.

“The love-hate thing,” Patrick elaborated, and I raised a single eyebrow at that. He glanced at Trystan and shot him a proper grin for the first time since I’d introduced them. “Because apart from Dan, he’s the only guy I’ve met who’s into you and doesn’t just roll over and fawn at your feet.”

I blanched a little at that. “Trys isn’t—”

But I was interrupted by a hand landing on my head, scratching gently at my crown, and pulling wayward strands of my hair loose to fall over my eyes. Trystan twisted me round by the top of my head and he fixed me with a mocking grin.

“Told you. It’s only you that’s oblivious to the feelings of everyone around you. Your friend here worked it out in forty minutes, and we haven’t even been speaking.” He turned that mocking smile on Patrick. “And if that doesn’t prove my point that he is emotionally retarded, I don’t know what will.”

“Never said otherwise.” Patrick didn’t lose his smile, but concern tugged at his temples. “Good luck with him, mate.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him covered; he’ll be a model member of society in a matter of weeks.”

“Pfft.” I wasn’t alone in my dismissive laugh, and I tugged Trystan’s hand from my head so I could retie my hair. “If I don’t get bored o’ ye in a couple of weeks,” I said archly. “Ye’ll need to learn some new tricks if ye expect t’ keep me entertained for more than a couple o’ days.”

“Challenge accepted. Care to take a bet? Or do you only bet when there are Yorkshire puddings involved?”

Bloody Jorja.

“I’ll take that bet,” Patrick chortled. “Twenty quid says you don’t last past next Wednesday. And that’s
only
because Ide is going home at the weekend so he can’t go out.”

“Yer supposed t’ be my friend,” I muttered. Although, I imagine there weren’t many of my friends who wouldn’t take that bet.

“Aye, which means I know what you’re like.” Patrick was still looking thoroughly amused.