Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages (Silence #3)(33)

I felt like crap. She’d been through the ultimate betrayal. My wife had cheated; her husband was a paedophile that allowed another man to abuse her daughter. My issues paled in comparison.

“God I’m sorry, Mum.”

“Don’t you do that either. You’ve been hurt, and you’re allowed to feel hurt. I just want my happy-go-lucky son back. I’ve missed him this last six months.”

“Six months?” It had just been over a month since Abby and I broke up.

“You’ve not been yourself for a while.”

Right. I had hoped they didn’t notice how unhappy I was getting being stuck. I wanted to move forward with my life and with Abby, but for a while we’d been floating, watching our lives pass us by. Or rather I had. She was sailing off without me.

“You’re right, Mum.” I wanted to be the old Jasper again.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to spend the day sanding down the wall in the hallway ready to paint, then I’m going out.”

“Okay,” she said, and I knew she didn’t understand how that was going to help, besides the decorating part – that was instead of paying rent. The old Jasper would go out whenever possible. I had no kids and no responsibilities so I should be out there living it up.

“I’ll speak to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she replied and hung up.



“Fancy seeing you here,” I said, leaning next to Holly at the bar. “You’re drinking. You don’t really drink.”

“Harry,” she said.

“Oh. What’s the dick done?”

“He keeps blowing hot and cold, and when I confronted him about it he broke up with me. Now he wants to get back together.”

Blind idiot.

“And what do you want?”

“I don’t like people playing games in relationships. I like to know where I am and where I stand. When I’m with him, I never know if she’s going to go off on one about me liking my ex’s status on Facebook. I’m friends with my ex, nothing more.”

I shrugged. “Told you he was a dick.”

“Thank you for that.”

“So you’re drowning your sorrows, huh?”

“Thought I’d give it a go. Works for Brad. And you.”

“Yeah but me and Brad are…”

Her eyes widened, the blue brighter with the spotlights above the bar glaring down on them. “If you say guys I’m going to smash this glass over your head.”

I laughed, sitting down on a stool. “Not where I was going. We’re… I don’t know how to put it without offending you.”

“Just say it,” she said, frowning.

“You’re good.” That probably wasn’t the best word to use. “Me and Brad do the getting smashed and sleeping around thing, but that’s not you, Holly. You don’t seem like the type that can do casual. And I don’t mean because you’re female because I know women that can have no strings sex just as well as I can.”

She stared at me for a long minute, and I paid extra attention to her hand wrapped around her glass.

Finally, she sighed. “You’re right. I’ve always been Good Girl Holly, getting high grades and coming home on time. I’ve never done anything impulsive. I’ve slept with two people, both of which I was in a relationship with, albeit a short one with Harry, but I thought we were going somewhere. I’m boring, aren’t I?”

Oh dear God what have I done?

“You’re not boring, Holly. There’s nothing wrong with not sleeping around!”

She waved her hand at me. “You think there is.”

“When did I say that? Why do women make something else out of what you say?”

“What do you think when you look at me?”

Now that was a dangerous question.

“I see a woman that has no idea how sexy she really is. You hide behind dark clothes and long jumpers. You put on a lot of that eyeliner stuff to distract people from who you are.”

She gulped. “And what if I don’t know who I am?”

“I think you do, but you don’t have the confidence to be it.”

I’d had enough alcohol to tell me that hitting on a mate’s sister was a good idea. “You’re beautiful and smart and funny and there’s a handful of guys in here that would love to chat you up right now. You know if you didn’t look a bit scary drinking alone like you’re plotting ex revenge.”

“Huh?”

“Trust me, when you down shots like that and scowl at nothing you look like a woman scorned.”

She pushed an empty shot glass away and blushed. “Oh.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I happen to think the scorned look is hot.”

“Of course you do,” she muttered dryly. “But thank you for what you said. It was sweet. Sort of.”

I meant it. There was something about Holly that drew you in. Her adult innocence was refreshing and a big turn on.

She hopped down off her stool and stood between my legs. “What are you doing?” I asked, stunned.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Nothing. I need the toilet.” Ducking around me, she hightailed it to the bathroom.