by H L Day
The question died on my lips as I got close enough to him to see the bright red mark on his cheek. “Shit! What happened to your face?”
Dominic brought his hand up to cover the mark. “It’s nothing. And there is no relationship for the whole building to know about. Not anymore.”
I gawped at him as he picked up a cardboard box from the desk and headed for the door.
"Dominic, please." Tristan looked stricken as he called the other man's name, but Dom didn't even pause, the door clicking shut behind him as he exited, leaving me alone with a man who looked as if he was about to cry.
"What happened?"
Tristan turned to me; his expression dazed. He dragged a hand through his usually immaculate hair. "I'm not entirely sure. Maria was here. Dominic dumped me. I don't know why, really. I need to talk to him."
I found myself wanting to make him feel better. "I'm sure he didn't mean it. Just give him a bit of time to calm down."
"Do you think?" The naked hope in his eyes was a revelation. It seemed crazy to think that I'd ever expressed an opinion about Dom just being an experiment.
I shrugged. I didn't want to go as far as giving him false hope. "I mean, it's Dom. He can be pretty volatile at times."
Tristan nodded before disappearing into his own office, coming out holding his jacket. "I have to..."
"Sure." I didn't have any idea what I was agreeing to, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I watched him leave the office. I assumed he was going after Dom.
I SHOOK MY HEAD AS Gabrielle offered me a glass of wine. Staying sober seemed like a good idea for a change. I'd done my best to avoid both her and Russell for the rest of the working day, but I should have known that they'd turn up on my doorstep. I'd only delayed the cross-examination, not stopped it altogether.
Gabrielle sighed for about the fifteenth time in the space of an hour. "I just can't believe it. Right under our noses as well." She waved a drunken finger in Russell's direction. "And you! How could you not know?"
I interjected. "Nobody knew, okay. It's nobody's business. And it's only been going on for a few weeks."
Russell clapped a hand to his forehead. "Since the office Christmas party. Of course. I should have known."
I gave a distracted nod while I typed a message out on my phone.
Paul: Dominic, what the hell is going on? You said yesterday that you and Tristan were doing great. What happened? I heard Maria was in the building. Did she hit you? It wasn’t Tristan, was it?
I knew full well it wasn't Tristan. There was no way, given how upset he'd been, that he'd ever lay a finger on Dom in that way, but maybe I hoped the accusation would force Dominic into replying in an effort to defend the other man. Gabrielle and Russell were still chattering about the supposedly illicit affair that they'd been oblivious to and the clues they should have been able to spot. When there was no response, I typed out another message.
Paul: I asked Tristan. But he didn’t seem to know why you’d dumped him. He wouldn’t tell me much. Said he needed to talk to you first.
Over the next hour, I tried calling him several times, but they all went to voicemail. I sent another message offering my support if he needed to talk. There wasn't a lot else I could do. I excused myself to go to the bathroom, leaving Gabrielle in the middle of a sickeningly sweet phone conversation with her boyfriend and Russell staring into space as if his batteries had run down and he needed winding up.
I found myself still mulling over the Dom-and-Tristan thing as I washed my hands. I mean it was crazy. It was so damn obvious that Dom was into Tristan. He was only hurting himself by being stubborn enough to deny that they'd be great together. Why make yourself miserable when you didn't need to be? Someone needed to give him a good shake, tell him to get his head out of his ass, and forget about how he'd felt in the past. It was stupid to let it color the future.
I froze, breathing hard as I stared at my own reflection in the mirror, the parallels of my own situation to Dom's suddenly hitting me. Oh my God! I was just as bad. I'd had a good thing going with Indy. He'd even told me that several times. And what had I done? Held on to the past like it was some sort of damn security blanket, refusing to see the truth. Indy was gorgeous. He was funny. He was smart. He was fantastic in bed. He even understood the complexity of my family background like no one else could. We were perfectly matched in every single way that mattered. If I wrote down a list of pros and cons, the cons side would only contain one item: that first damn meeting.
I walked back to the living room in a daze, Gabrielle pausing mid-sentence as she took in my expression. "What's wrong with you?"
I collapsed onto the sofa. "I'm such a fucking idiot!"
She raised an eyebrow. "Well, duh! But humor me, what in particular has made you realize that?"
My head was still spinning. I reached for the pink elephant on the floor, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him to my body. The pink elephant that Indy had gone to so much trouble to get just because I'd asked him to. I still didn't know how he'd managed it because I was a dick, who'd been determined to talk to him as little as possible in case some sort of emotional connection crept up on me. Except, of course, it had happened anyway. There was more to a connection than knowing things about people. It was in the shared laughter. It was in knowing what they were going to say before they said it just from the expression on their face. It was all of that and more. You didn't need to spend the night together to be in a relationship. I'd been in one with Indy from the first moment our lips met. Maybe even before then. "I think I fell in love."
Russell frowned. "With who? You only went to the bathroom. Is there someone in there?"
I stared at my sweet but ever so slightly dumb friend. Gabrielle reached out and smacked him hard on the back of his head, pulling a face when he tried to protest at the heavy-handed treatment. "Try and keep up, you doofus. With Indy of course. It's been obvious. We just needed to wait for Paul to come to that same realization." She leveled an accusatory glare my way. "It was meant to dawn on him when he saw his boyfriend on a date with another man, but oh no, Paul still couldn't see what was right in front of his face." She lifted her chin in a challenge. "Ready to admit you were jealous now?"
I thought about it. Of course I'd been jealous. The fact that I'd considered it and discounted it because I'd been that much in denial was nothing short of ridiculous. Thank God for Dominic's stupidity showing me the error of my ways. Without him, I might never have cottoned on.
I nodded and Gabrielle looked mightily pleased with herself. "So what are you going to do?"
I let go of the pink elephant and tried to think. That was a very good question. What was I going to do? "Talk to him I guess." I pulled my phone out, opening the messages and quickly typing one.
Paul: I really need to speak to you. It's urgent.
We all sat and stared at my phone for what felt like hours, the only sound Gabrielle continuing to sip her wine. My phone stayed resolutely silent with no second tick appearing to show he'd read it. "He might be busy. He's probably working." Except that I knew he wasn't because Thursday night was his night off.
Russell coughed. "Or ignoring you..." I couldn't even be mad at him when he was probably right. I could have done without him elaborating though. "...He did tell you that he was going to delete your number and that you should delete his. He sounded pretty certain about it."
I snatched my phone back up. "Not a problem. I'll call him instead." The phone rang and rang without being picked up. Trust Indy not to have voicemail. That meant the option of leaving a message was out. I pressed the button to end the call. "Like I said, he's probably busy."
Gabrielle grunted in a very unladylike fashion. "Or he's blocked you. That way he doesn't even get your messages, or your calls. You're literally pissing into the wind." She finished her little announcement with a bright smile.
I laid my head back against the sofa, contemplating her words. Would he have done that? I remembered how angry he'd
been when I'd turned up on his date, how I'd made things even worse by trying to kiss him, and I concluded that it was entirely possible, if not probable. That left only one way of contacting of him. "I'm going to go and see him. Tell him face to face how I feel about him."
Gabrielle nodded. "Good plan. Want us to come with you?"
I grabbed my jacket and keys and turned to give her a narrow-eyed stare. "Why would I want you to come with me? What use are you two going to be?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. But you're obviously really, really bad at this stuff. Maybe we could whisper what you need to say so that you don't fuck it up again. I've seen it in sitcoms. I mean, granted, it usually goes quite badly, but I'm sure we'd be the exception."
I counted to ten. "This is my life, not a sitcom. You do realize that?"
"Of course. You'll do great, sweetheart." She pulled a face. "Just try to be nice to him. You know, say nice things. Give him compliments. That sort of stuff. Because Ben seemed like a really nice guy, and obviously you need to try and compete with that. You can't compete with the big muscles"—she gave a little shiver—"not many people could, so you're going to have to have something else to offer in other departments."
Hearing all Ben's attributes really didn't help. "I have lots to offer."
Gabrielle sat up straighter. "Of course you do. I didn't say you didn't. I mean you've got..." She elbowed Russell in the ribs. "Tell him, Russ."
Russell blinked sleepily. "Huh! What?"
Gabrielle tutted. "Tell Paul all his good points. You've been friends with him a lot longer than I have."
Panic manifested itself on Russell's face. "Oh! Erm... you're... yeah."
I waited. Both of them continued to stare at me blankly. "Well, great. Thanks for the pep talk, guys. I appreciate you sending me around there brimming with confidence. I have no idea what I'd do without you. Either of you."
Gabrielle smiled, holding her glass up in a salute. "You're welcome. Go get him, tiger. Although, I'm not sure tiger's quite the right word." She turned to Russell. "What do you call those cats, the small ones that don't have a tail?"
Russell's brow creased as he contemplated the question before his face lit up. "Manx cats."
I left before they could assassinate my character any more. I'd already concluded that it was pointless trying to get them to leave. Besides, if this went badly and I ended up back there with my tail—that I apparently didn't have—between my legs, then even their uselessness would be better than my own company. I eschewed a cab and decided to walk. It would give me thirty minutes to formulate a plan of action. Whilst walking, I sent three more texts to Indy's phone and tried calling him twice more. Each time, I was met with the same wall of silence. Either he was doing an excellent job of ignoring me, or Gabrielle was right and he'd blocked my number. I wasn't sure which option was worse.
The first problem I needed to overcome after arriving at the The Silver Barrel was how I was going to gain access to where Indy lived. There were two options. I could go around the back and ring the intercom. But then if he was ignoring me, all he had to do was take a glance at the camera and he could leave me standing there. The second option was to go into the bar and convince one of his colleagues to give me access to the back stairway. That way I'd at least get as far as the door to his apartment.
The problem was, it would require telling a few white lies, which wouldn't exactly endear me to an Indy who was already pissed at me. I stood on the pavement outside for a few minutes, weighing the two options. Indy had lied to get my phone number, right? So he didn't really have a leg to stand on if he tried to take the moral high ground.
I shouldered my way into the busy building, waiting until I could catch the eye of one of the men serving behind the bar. He lifted his head in the universal symbol for "what'll it be?" I leaned forward over the bar, gesturing for him to come closer so that I could shout into this ear. "Hi. Indy said to get someone to let me in the back way so I can go straight upstairs."
The man pulled back to study me from head to toe while I did my best to appear as friendly and non-hostile as possible, pasting an expression on my face which I hoped exuded honesty. Finally, the man nodded, gesturing for me to come around the side of the bar. He pushed the side door open and ushered me through it. I said a prayer of thanks for the fact that they were busy. I had an inkling that he'd have asked a few more questions if he wasn't so keen on getting back to the bar and making a dent in the never-ending stream of thirsty customers.
I made my way up the stairs, still lacking a plan of action. I guessed I was going to be winging it. That was always assuming Indy was even there. What if he was out with Ben? I lifted my hand to knock and then hesitated. What if Ben was there? What if I was about to interrupt the two of them? My heart rate sped up and I felt slightly sick at the thought of the fireman putting his hands all over Indy. How could I have ever been stupid enough to think I wasn't jealous? I was insanely jealous.
I took a deep breath and then knocked. It swung open almost immediately, a shirtless Indy appearing in the gap. I did my best to ignore the fact that the expression on his face at seeing me didn't exactly express joy and pleasure. In fact, it said the total opposite. I gave him a huge smile. He remained unimpressed, his face hardening and his eyes narrowing. "I won't ask how you got up here. I can guess at that part. But what are you doing here?"
There was enough ice in his voice to coat the whole of the pavement outside. I made an attempt to peer over his shoulder, but he moved to block it so I had no choice but to ask. "Are you on your own?"
"Yes. Not that it's any of your business."
Well, that was a relief. "I need to talk to you."
Indy's face didn't soften even in the slightest. "We said everything we needed to say. Twice over."
"Can I come in?"
Indy didn't even take a second to think about it, shaking his head straight away and partly closing the door as if he thought I might try and sneak through the gap. "I know why you're here."
"Do you?" I studied him, but there were no clues to what he was thinking.
He nodded long and slow, his eyes never leaving my face. "For sex."
I let out a huff. I only had myself to blame for the assumption he'd jumped to, but it stung nonetheless. "I don't want to have sex with you." Realizing the words I'd said didn't sound quite right, I hastened to correct them. "I mean, I do. But that's not why I'm here." The end of the sentence was delivered to solid wood, Indy having closed the door in my face. I flattened myself against it. "Indy, open the door. Please! Indy?"
The door stayed firmly shut. Well, that could have gone better. I'd squandered my chance to talk to him properly. I pulled my phone out, dialing his number while I kept my ear pressed to the door to listen for the ringtone. There was nothing but silence so either his phone was switched off, on silent, or as Gabrielle had surmised, he'd blocked me. I slid down to the floor, my back pressed against the door. "I'm not going anywhere, so you might as well come out and talk to me. I know what you're thinking... that you tried to talk to me twice and I didn't want to hear it, but I was in the bathroom today and I had somewhat of an epiphany. Well, it wasn't really anything to do with the bathroom. It was more to do with Dom being a complete idiot over Tristan. How he's throwing away something good just because he's stubborn. And that describes me, too."
Despite my voice being raised, I had no idea whether Indy was listening to me. Given the dimensions and layout of his apartment, he'd only be able to hear if he'd stayed close to the door. I could just be talking to myself. But what other option did I have? I couldn't call him. I couldn't text him. It was this or give up. "Did you block my calls? Because I've been trying to ring you and message you and I got nothing. I'm figuring you probably did." I paused, giving an opportunity for Indy to answer the question if he was listening. He didn't. I leaned my head back against the wood. "Okay, I'm going to hope that you're listening and I'm going to say it anyway. I've been an idiot. Which you probably alread
y know. I just want a second chance. Okay... a third chance really. I don't know what stage you and Ben have gotten to... how many dates you've been on... but I want you to stop seeing him. I'm..." God, why was this so hard to say. "...jealous. You were right. And it's not just about the sex. I like you, Indy. I really like you. I tried hard not to... as you very well know, but somehow you managed to sneak under my defenses. I want to date you. Me and you. Not you and Ben. He might have big muscles, but I can..." I could do what? "...do weights or something. Drink protein shakes. I don't know. I don't really know what's involved. I could ask Tristan. He goes to the gym a lot. He's not Ben's size, but he's very fit. I've seen a picture of him wearing very little. He probably knows all this stuff." I frowned as I realized I'd ended up digressing. "Anyway, that's beside the point. And this stuff about us not really knowing each other isn't true. I know all the things that matter about you. I know you're funny, and smart. You made me laugh even when I was dead set on disliking you. I know other stuff as well. I know that you don't like ham on your pizza. I know you don't like going out in the rain because you're worried your hair will frizz and you'll look one percent less gorgeous."
I thought back over the list of questions he'd once asked in order to prove that I wasn't in danger of knowing too much about him. It was a gamble, but I really didn't have anything to lose at this point. "Your favorite food is lasagna. I know this because when we were at the party, I overheard your mum tell you that when you were next home, she'd make it for you. You relax by reading. There's several bookcases in your apartment, and you had a book on your nightstand. Your favorite color is..." I closed my eyes while I tried to piece together enough information to give me a chance at getting the right answer. "...purple. You've worn a purple T-shirt before. You have the purple shirt and the cushions on your sofa are purple. Your favorite place is..." I was drawing a complete blank on that one. It was hard to say, when the only three places we'd ever been together were the interior of a bar and our respective apartments. "...I don't know... somewhere quiet, and as for the scar..." I tried to picture it. It wasn't difficult. I'd explored his body enough times. It didn't look like an appendectomy scar though. "...something you did as a child. You probably fell off a climbing frame."
