Trust (London Love #5)

After we’d eaten, I cleaned up, and Dad threw himself on the sofa and fell asleep watching TV. Just a normal evening. It was funny how half of the time I felt normal, while the other half I felt like I was someone else. Like when Gray quietly let himself in, with his key as if he lived here. Which he did. For now. Until he swanned off to live in that nice big house. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me from behind, dug his chin firmly on my shoulder.

“Sorry I’m late. I dropped in on Musa. We had a few things to go over. His lawyer has dug up some interesting stuff, and Josh has a plan.”

“Okay?” Like I had any understanding of what that meant.

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah. Dad made you a bacon sandwich. It’s on the table under the tea towel.”

“Sweet,” he said, letting go of me and plonking himself down at the table. “My mum used to do that. Make me tea and leave it on the table under a tea towel. Dad used to get all narky about all the food stains on our lovely tea towels, kept shoving them back in the wash all the time. Used to drive Mum mad.”

“Normal family life, eh?”

“Yep. Simple times.”

“Simple,” I huffed out and sat opposite him, staring at him as he pretty much inhaled the bacon sandwich.

A simple bacon sandwich. Life really didn’t have to be that complicated, did it?

I picked up my phone. Sent him a text.

Can we do more sex? It’s embarrassing enough that I have to ask.

I put my phone back down and watched him pick his up and read my text. Not a twitch as he replied, put his phone back down.

We need your dad to go to bed. Then how about I suck your dick until I have to shove something in your mouth to stop you screaming?

Okay. Newsflash. He could actually text me and I would sprout a semi. I was not gay. But okay. Interesting.

Normal people sat down and had simple conversations with their boyfriends.

Boyfriend. I cackled internally.

Normal people asked about their day, thoughtful questions about whatever they’d been up to.

“How did your meeting with Michelle go?” My voice sounded strained, and my hand was not holding onto my junk under the table. Nope. Not me.

“Strange. They’ve held the first test viewing in front of a select audience. The critics said my performance was raw, nuanced and refreshing.”

“Is that good?”

“Well, better than pathetic and weird. That’s how I felt filming it. But the whole reason for that meeting was that they’ve pitched a second film, and the streaming service will only commission it if they can get the three main cast members to sign on. So she wanted my signature on some documents. And to schedule my arse on set in four months. Give or take.”

“Problem?” I tried to sound cool, nonchalant, as he leaned forward, grabbed my arm and yanked my hand from my crotch. Let it drop on the table so he could tangle his fingers with mine.

“No problem. Apart from that I hated it the last time and will probably hate it again. And after a second film, they will one hundred per cent know I can’t act. And the small fact that I will be away from you for weeks on end. Home at the weekends, if I’m lucky. But we can manage that, can’t we? Do you have a problem?”

“No.” I laughed, and he just smiled at me. Reached for my other hand.

“You hard?” he whispered.

Honestly, this man.

“I’m going for a shower,” I blurted out, almost taking the table with me in my haste to get out of his sight.

Bloody hell.

He only had to talk to me, apparently. Talk about film sets and shit and I lost all sense.