Just Between Us (16 page)

I’m
not a romantic, I’m a realist, and it’s just my luck to be fucking in love with the only girl in the world that I can’t have.

I had work to do during the week that I couldn’t get out of, and so most days Sophie had to amuse herself.

             
“You want to come to work with me today?” I asked as she sat eating breakfast in her pyjamas. The thing about Sophie was that she managed to make everything look suggestive, or was that my perverted mind? Her hair was tied up on top of her head, and although her cotton pyjama bottoms didn’t show anything, I knew from experience that she never wore anything underneath them. It was all topped off with a tight, lace-edged white vest, and I could tell she was braless underneath. I had to suppress a groan.

             
“Really?” She scrunched her face up, and the freckles that had sprung up from the recent sun danced over her face. “Won’t I get in the way?”

             
“No.” I shook my head, “You must be sick of hanging around here. I’ve got a few meetings and you can chat with Geraldine, then I’m taking a client out for lunch. You can come and then tonight it’s that work thing that I told you about so you can go shopping in the city for a new dress … if you want?”

             
“Shopping?” She gave me a wry look. “When you include lunch and the prospect of a new dress how can I say no?”

             
“Great, go and get dressed, I need to leave in five.” I resisted the urge to slap her bum as she ran past me. I knew I could say five minutes to Sophie, as the things that other girls needed to look good, she just didn’t. She reappeared ten minutes later showered, wearing jeans, a shirt, and Converse. The woman rocked every outfit she wore, and I always wanted her next to me, wanted people to think she was mine, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.

             
“So what’s tonight again?” she asked as we made our way down to my car.

             
“Networking.” I smiled, “We’re going to a club opening and loads of my clients will be there as well as potential clients and industry bods, so just schmoozing really. No biggy.”

             
“No biggy.” She raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Sounds pretty fancy to me.”

             
“Nah, fancy isn’t trendy anymore.” I grinned to her. I loved teasing this girl. “So better get something that makes you look like a bag lady.”

             
“I’ll bear that in mind,” she said, buckling up.

Thirty minutes later we slid into my parking space. I had bought this space in Hackney five years ago; it was a lofty old building, and I’d turned it into my studio. It used to be some sort of printing space for an old publishing house that had closed down and so was spacious but not overly modernised, leaving room for me to mould the place. I always rented before that, working with and for other people and so this had been my big break. When I decided on university at eighteen, it was physiotherapy. It was assumed I would go to university, and I was good at science, and so I thought at least it would give me a job at the end. Not that I really wanted to work because I was too used to my Dad’s money. However, I had always been interested in music and quickly got into DJ-ing when I hit Exeter University. It was a pretty small campus, and I got a name for myself, got some gigs and things went from there. In my second year I transferred to Music Production and continued DJ-ing and networking locally. Before I finished third year I had progressed to the big city, London town. I seemed to make friends pretty easily with the big hitters, and my face just fit. I got a studio job and worked my way up from there. I always had my eyes and ears open and took everything in. I learnt from the best and made sure I didn’t piss anyone off. Being everything to everyone seemed to be my forte, and suddenly I had found something to pay the bills and then some. I was pretty good at making people happy and had the ability to turn it off and on.

             
The only problem with this industry is it’s pretty false and can be lonely because you never know if people want you for you or what you can help them achieve. I’ve had plenty of girlfriends, plenty of one-night stands, and the odd stalker, but none of them ever seemed to stick. It’s hard to make relationships work when they’re based on a version of you that even you don’t recognise. I had to become a certain person, and I didn’t really have my past to keep me grounded, this summer is doing more for me in that department than it could ever do for Sophie. I look at her and see who I used to be, and I see how I used to be happy with her. I’m not the lost boy with absent parents who made it big, I’m the guy that I’m pretty sure Sophie King used to love.

              “This is your work?” she asked, stepping out of the car. “It looks like a factory.” She looked at the red brick building and scanned the bare black wooden door that led inside.

             
“Sure is, all the wizardry is hidden behind the boring facade.”

             
“Right.” She nodded. “I hope you’ve got a kettle at least.”

             
“We’ve got a coffee machine,” I said with mock hurt.

             
I led her inside, and Geraldine appeared immediately. She was a mid 40’s vegan with straggly black hair that she always wore in a ponytail. She was constantly on the move and had little time for polite conversation. Her wardrobe consisted of mostly black, I had seen her wear red once, but she must have thought better of it as I never saw it again.

             
“Kyle.” She sighed as I walked in, not acknowledging Sophie at all. “I have had Julia Jameson on the phone and also the manager of Club Loco about tonight; additionally, I have some paperwork for you to sign. Where have you been?”

             
“Whoa!” I held my hands up to her, “Firstly it’s not even ten and you know I like to ease myself into the working day.” I smirked; she didn’t smile. “Secondly I need a coffee before I do anything, and thirdly this …” I motioned to Sophie, “Is Sophie my … um … an old friend.”

             
Geraldine glanced at Sophie as if only just noticing her, “Ah,” she reached her hand out, balancing the paperwork in her hands. “Geraldine. Nice to meet you, I didn’t know Kyle had any friends old or new.” She laughed at her own joke; Sophie shook her hand.

             
“Pleased to meet you,” Sophie said.

             
Geraldine snapped her head back to me. “She better not distract you today, Kyle, you’ve got shit loads to do, and you’ve been slacking these last few weeks.” She eyed Sophie and gave me a knowing glare, as if she now saw why I had been slacking. Geraldine was a kick-ass assistant and made sure I met every deadline that ever reared its ugly head. She was also into women, which meant she could understand when I was “distracted.” “Sophie can sit with me; you need to concentrate. I’ll give her a tour.”             

             
“Fine.” I nodded, “That Okay, Soph? Just give me an hour and then after lunch Geraldine can take you to the shops.”

             
“Shops?” Geraldine scoffed, “I don’t do shops.”

             
“You want me to go to the shops?” I teased her.

             
“No,” she snapped, “you need to get some work done or else neither one of us gets paid. I can shop.” She smiled at Sophie who looked a little concerned.

             
“I am fine on my own,” Sophie said, “just drop me off.”

             
“I can shop,” Geraldine said, suddenly looking offended, pushing more papers my way. “Now come on, Kyle, I’ll get the coffee, go and sit your arse down in the office.”

             
“Yes boss,” I laughed.

Old Times – Kyle

I had pretty much fucked everything up. My life was like a bad joke where I was still searching for the punch line. I always managed to fuck up everything that gave me a hint of happiness; it was a curse. I started liking Sophie from afar mid way through third year seniors, we were thirteen and one day as we sat in Geography I saw her staring out of the window, looking like she wanted to escape. She was perfect looking with her blonde hair and smooth skin and answered every question any teacher asked without flinching. She was kinda quiet, and she filled out those school shirts enough for me to see she had a great body. She intrigued me, she held my attention, and yet she didn’t ever look at me like she wanted to be my friend or know me, she never even gave me the time of day.

             
After our parents started dating and married, I noticed that she actually hated me, and that made me want her that little bit more. I was sick. I dug that she thought I was a prick, and I dug that she didn’t want anything from me … nothing at all. I saw how all the other boys at school watched her, but she had no idea, she was different from the girls I was used to, and I found myself strangely watching her just like all the other guys, except I lived with her most weekends.

             
My mum buggered off and then we shared that bathroom permanently, and I found myself getting hard at the thought of her through that door. I thought it was because she was the only girl that I couldn’t have and that she was the only girl who actually hated my guts and who the award-winning smile didn’t work on. I hated my dad; let’s get that straight. I hated his answer to everything: money. I hated that I was an inconvenience to him, until Mags came along of course and he tried to prove otherwise. The family situation incensed me, and I refused to play the role of some pretty little son who smiled and nodded. I kicked against them all and that meant Sophie, no matter how hot she was. I told myself that I kissed her in Mexico to piss my dad off. I told myself that I was proving a point that I truly could have anyone. I wanted to be the spoilt, selfish prick that I always was, but with Sophie I couldn’t hide what I wanted, and that was her. I had for years and our parents getting married sort of ruined that … at first.

             
That first night we had sex was awesome. She didn’t once pull away, and I kept wondering when she would put a stop to my demands. She never did, she was as hot for me as much as I was for her, and she was never once ashamed of it. I went too far when I made her feel used, I went too fucking far at the ball when I saw how pissed she was and then I sent her packing. I was enraged, I hated seeing that prick Tim all over her, and I hated seeing someone touch her when I couldn’t. I had fucked everything up.

             
She woke up in my arms in the early hours of the morning. My head was pounding, and I bet hers was, too.

             
“You need to go to your own room,” she whispered, pulling herself up with her good arm.

             
“Soph?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

             
She turned back to look at me but didn’t speak, her hair fell against her back in a mass of tangles, and she had never looked more vulnerable than right now.

             
“Are we Okay?” I asked, sitting up.

             
She nodded. “We’re fine.”

             
“As in, we’re fine and nothing’s changed, we can …”

             
“As in, no hard feelings,” she whispered, “that’s it, no more.”

             
“I’m sorry.”

             
“Stop it.” She stood up and went to get her dressing gown from her wardrobe. “You don’t have to keep saying you’re sorry, it was fun, and we fought … it had to end some time.”

             
I stood and helped her into her dressing gown that she was struggling with. There was nothing more to say, I had been a dick, and I was paying for my actions. What more could I do or say? I couldn’t beg, it wasn’t me, and I just didn’t have the words.               Of course she was right, we couldn’t keep this up forever in case anyone found out, and where the fuck was it going? Girls always got attached and always wanted more, it was better this way.

             
“Let’s not talk about this again, Okay?” She sighed. “To anyone.”

             
I nodded.

             
I left her room and walked through my bathroom to my bed. I threw myself in there, cocooned myself in my sheets, and tried my best not to think about Sophie. Tried to forget the best sex I’d ever had, her smell, her laugh, her smile and every other thing that made me look forward to coming home. This was some fucking shitty life.

Thirteen
– Just friends

Sophie
– Old Times

The day after my drunken fall and ridiculous wrist breaking incident, Mum was making my breakfast whilst I sat at the breakfast bar.

             
“You need your strength,” she babbled, whilst frying me an egg. “We’ll have to set off in an hour to go back to the hospital for a permanent plaster cast.”

             
“I’ll take her,” Kyle said, sliding into the seat next to me and stealing some toast from my plate.

             
“No you won’t.” I shook my head and glared at him, Mum had her back to us still frying the egg.

             
“Do you want any breakfast, Kyle?” she asked, dismissing his comment.

             
“Okay, thanks,” he said, nudging me. I looked to him, and he grinned. I shook my head and pushed him away.

             
“So what did happen last night?” Mum said, turning to put a fried egg on my plate.

             
“What do you mean? I was drunk, and I fell.”

             
“Did you fall out with someone? I mean Kyle came running out and everyone seemed upset.”

             
“No, don’t be ridiculous, Kyle probably wanted a free ride home.”

             
“Hmmm,” Mum said, turning back to the hob. “I was young once, you know.” She laughed. “But you don’t have to tell me anything.”

             
“There’s nothing to tell.” I sighed. We were all silent for a little while before she finished Kyle’s egg and placed it on a plate for him.

             
“Okay then, I’ll go and get showered and dressed. I’ll be ready by half past,” she said

             
“Okay, Mum.”

             
We sat in silence and ate our eggs with toast. I watched Mum walk out of the kitchen and then turned to him.

             
“What are you trying to do?” I hissed through narrowed eyes.

             
“What?”

             
“She is already suspicious about last night with the way you acted, and now you offer to take me to the hospital?”

             
“She didn’t hear.” He took a bite of his egg on toast.

             
“She heard,” I said quietly. “She hears everything.”

             
He blew out a breath and turned to me. “Soph, I just want things to be like they were.”

             
“Well by acting like my friend and sitting with me through breakfast, you’re not doing such a good job.”

             
“What? We’ve sat together before.”

             
“No,” I said firmly. “No we haven’t. Nor have we ever been friends, nor have you ever been interested in my well-being.”

             
“I have.” He frowned.

             
“Kyle, we’re not friends, Okay? What we were …” I emphasised the last word, “is indescribable, and now it’s over, so let’s not try and pretend it was something it wasn’t.”

             
I stood to leave, and he grabbed my arm. “Soph.” He looked directly into my eyes, but the words just didn’t come, and for a fleeting second I felt sorry for him. He had fucked it up, whatever we had. It was exciting and crazy, and mind blowing, and now it was over. He was a nasty piece of work who could break my heart in an instant, and so I had to stay far, far away from him. Last night I saw the depths of his dark heart, and today he was trying to make that right.

             
“Kyle, maybe one day we can be friends.” I smiled casually. “But right now you have to let me go.” I wasn’t just referring to my arm, but he dropped it immediately, my words hanging in the air. He wasn’t attached to me emotionally, but I certainly had been beginning to get attached to him. It was definitely time to stop. He could handle this sort of thing, but I really couldn’t, and if harsh words in my bedroom brought tears to my eyes after a few weeks, imagine how it could feel months down the line.

             
“I can do that.” He grinned his kilowatt smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

After I had my permanent cast put on I couldn’t work at my café job and with Kathryn and Ashley working that left me alone a lot during that first week. Mum and Mick were out at work, and so I just roamed around the house, unable to drive anywhere, sunbathing when it was warm enough and reading any books that I could find, including Mum’s faded Jackie Collins collection. I sat in the back garden on Thursday afternoon reading
Lady Boss
which was much better than I could have imagined, struggling to hold it up for long with my good hand.

             
“Hi!” I heard Kyle shout from the back double French doors that led out from the conservatory. I snapped my head up. I was wearing a yellow bikini that he had seen before in Mexico, but I still felt a little exposed. My body reacted to the mere sight of him. It was a traitor; my stomach was in knots, and my heart racing.

             
“Oh hi,” I said, shifting uncomfortably and grabbing for my vest top and putting it on. He started to walk towards my sun lounger.

             
“So.” He nodded to the book. “Reading up on future careers.”

             
“Ha ha,” I said sarcastically. “It’s actually really good.”

             
“I bet.” He raised an eyebrow, sitting on the edge of the lounger. “Isn’t it like porn for mums or something?”

             
I coughed, a little embarrassed. “Not quite.” I smiled.

             
“Where’s your little gaggle of friends?” he asked casually.

             
“Oh, they’ve got jobs, I had a job, but they don’t want a disabled waitress.” I held up my arm, and he laughed.

             
“Suppose you’d be a bit rubbish carrying one plate at a time. Thought Mick said no jobs this summer, anyway, enjoy our freedom and all that.”

             
“My dad,” I sighed, “he wants me to understand the value of money.”

             
He nodded, “It’s nice that he cares.”

             
“I suppose.” The direct sunlight meant I couldn’t see his face very well, but he seemed thoughtful.

             
He broke the silence. “You bored?”

             
“Well I’ve got my book but …”

             
“So, yes?”

             
“Yes,” I laughed, shaking my head, “but…”

             
“How about we go to the cinema and stuff our faces with pizza afterwards?”

             
“The cinema? But it’s so hot out, why would we want to go inside?” Then I realised his intention, get me in the cinema and all alone and try something on. He must have seen the cogs turning in my head.

             
“Whoa.” He held his hands up, “Seriously no funny business, I won’t touch you, I promise. Just cinema and pizza, and I don’t care how hot it is, I’m bored.”

             
“Oh.” I looked down feeling foolish, he’d obviously got over whatever attraction he had to me, and now I was seriously embarrassed, but it didn’t explain why he suddenly wanted to spend time together. “All your friends busy?” I asked, glancing up to look at him again.

             
“No.” He blew out a breath in frustration. “Look forget it, Okay? I was just offering ‘cause I know you’re housebound. Forget it.” He jumped up off the lounger.

             
“Wait,” I yelped in an unnatural voice that I was instantly ashamed of. He stopped and turned to me. “You’re right, I’m bored, and if the offer still stands I do really want to go.” He grinned.

             
“Great.” He scanned my body as I stood up. “Are you going in those little knickers?” He raised an eyebrow to me.

             
I smirked and shook my head, “No I better get changed, and they aren’t knickers, it’s a bikini.”

             
He nodded and laughed. “Same thing. Come on.” He pulled me to him, his arm around my shoulders. It was such an innocent gesture, one that any boy, or even girl for that matter, might do to a friend after they had shared a joke. The problem was that when Kyle did this to me it made every nerve-ending in my body pay attention, especially those that weren’t covered very well at this precise moment.

             
I ran upstairs and struggled getting changed with my one arm. Getting the bikini off was hard enough, let alone getting knickers on, and jeans were practically impossible unless I wanted to be there all night. So I decided on an easy sundress, but I wouldn’t be able to fasten it. I brushed my hair, added some make up, and then swallowed my pride and called Kyle.

             
“Kyle, um, please can you help me?” I heard him bound up the stairs.

             
“What is it?” he said, taking the steps two at a time and reaching my door.

             
“I … um, I can’t fasten my dress, with this cast on, it’s just …”

             
“No probs, turn around.” I turned, knowing exactly what he was faced with, heart shaped buttons that would fasten over the pale pink bra I wore. He brushed my hair out of the way over my shoulder, and as he did, his fingertips grazed my shoulder, my breath caught, and I hoped he didn’t notice. He started slowly at the bottom, perhaps struggling a little with the tiny buttons in his big hands. Eventually they were all done up, and my pulse was racing, feeling his breath on the back of my head, and smelling him so close. He placed his hands on my shoulders and patted.

             
“All done,” he said, I spun around to face him and almost toppled over as I came face to face with him. He put his hands out to steady me and grabbed both my arms.

             
“Careful,” he said, his eyes blazing into mine. “You are so clumsy, you’ll break that other arm if you’re not careful.” I laughed lightly, and we stood looking at each other in silence. “Come on.” He broke the spell. “Let’s go, I want to be early and get popcorn.”

             
“Okay.” I nodded, following him down the stairs. I texted my mum and told her that I was going out but didn’t mention Kyle, as I didn’t want to make her suspicious, and she noticed everything. Of course she would know when we got home, but I could deal with it then.

             
We drove to the cinema in Blackpool and had decided on a comedy that wasn’t too girly or full of boyish gore, a happy medium. It was definitely a very different situation. Kyle was talking to me about David and some stupid thing he had done recently, driving after a few drinks and being pulled over by the police. He also mentioned Vinnie and some party they were going to. I mostly looked out of the window and laughed in the right places. This Kyle was quite different to the boy who had me begging for more from just one touch, or the surly teenager that I had lived with these past few years. I accepted it gladly, but wondered exactly what it meant. I was getting the Kyle Hanson experience usually reserved for his elite group of school friends, and I wasn’t sure what I had done to deserve it.

             
When we arrived Kyle tried to help me out of the car like I was an invalid.

             
“I can do doors.” I laughed as he slammed it after me.

             
“Okay, I’ll remember that.”

             
Kyle bought the tickets and then I got the popcorn and drinks. It didn’t matter who bought … either way it was Mick’s money.

             
We were the only two in the small cinema, and Kyle burst out laughing when we entered. “Wow, private show.” He grinned.

             
I nodded, sitting warily. “Not many people come to the cinema mid-afternoon in the summer,” I said.

             
“You’re telling me.” We sat for a while waiting for the film to come on, and I checked my phone for messages.

             
“So do you think we can be friends?” Kyle asked, looking to me.

             
I smiled at him. “Is that what this is all about?”

             
“What?” he said.

             
“Bringing me out? Being nice and normal, you want to be friends?”

             
He shook his head. “No, I mean, I just wanted us to do something together, something normal, and you were at home, and so was I so …”

             
“Well it’s nice.” I took a sip of my drink. “Thanks.”

             
“I am normal you know, not just a sex pest.”