Skin of the Night: Book One of The Night series

by Claire D. Bennett

  But I’d made her a promise, and I intended to keep it. Besides, I could only befriend the enemy if she remained unaware of my antagonism. I couldn’t imagine she’d want anything to do with me if I told Jason prematurely.

  I frowned to myself when I realised I ought to be questioning Jason about why it should matter whether I was flirting with her or not. “Why?” I asked, and his potential answer filled me with dread. Had we, unwittingly, shared a woman? “Is there something I should know?”

  It bothered me that he decided to pull on his T-shirt at that precise moment because it made me wonder whether he’d done it deliberately to veil his reaction, or whether it was merely because he didn’t care all that much for the subject. Was it genuine or feigned nonchalance?

  “What do you mean ‘why’?” he asked, but his voice was muffled. “Are you asking whether I fancy her?” he continued as soon as his head popped out.

  “Do you?”

  Something strange happened inside my chest as I considered the idea. There was a contraction, and for a moment, I stopped drawing breath.

  “Not really. She’s hot, though – really hot. Or perhaps beautiful is a better word to describe her. I’ve never been able to decide – she’s a good blend.”

  “Have you shagged?”

  Jason laughed. “No, we’re not like that. I’m only saying she’s fit. Hardly think that’s worth fucking up our friendship for. Pun intended.”

  I faced my locker again, and it demanded some effort to remain composed. He hadn’t really denied anything – not as clearly as I would have preferred, anyway – and I couldn’t keep probing him about this without raising suspicion.

  Would he have slept with her if offered the chance?

  “You don’t agree?” he asked.

  “On what?”

  “That she’s fit?”

  I hadn’t the faintest idea why, but the question pissed me off. “Jason, she’s your best friend. Quit sexualising her.”

  What I’d said gave the illusion that I had refused to speak further on the matter for moral reasons, but the reality was that I wasn’t sure exactly why I wanted him to shut up. Perhaps it was because I felt nauseous at the thought of his potential sexual interest in her. The disgusting images were already feasting on my mind. Or perhaps it was because I wanted her for myself but didn’t want to take her from him. He was my brother, after all – the person I cherished the most. If he wanted her, too, would I be able to let her go for his sake? Would he even desire her if he learnt the truth about our past?

  Now more than ever, I felt the strain of keeping the truth from him. I wished she hadn’t begged me not to tell. I wished she would have understood that while Jason might have disliked the news at first, he’d have come to terms with it within the span of a mere day – I was certain. Unlike me, he simply wasn’t capable of holding grudges. But now that she had demanded my silence, I couldn’t break it without shooting myself in the foot.

  So, I supposed I’d said what I had as a last resort to inspire him to steer clear of her. If I reminded him of the platonic nature of their relationship, perhaps he’d reconsider his view on her.

  His eyebrows jumped up his forehead. “Damn, someone’s triggered. I wasn’t sexualising her; I was admiring her. There’s a difference. Christ.”

  “She’s well fit,” a random bloke commented behind us then. “The bird with the black jumper covering her arse, right? I’d do her in a heartbeat.”

  That sort of macho behaviour was exactly the reason why women frequently felt hostile towards our gender. Like them, I had no patience with it. However, that was only one among several reasons why his statement roused great ire in me.

  I refused to acknowledge him. If I did, I worried I’d inadvertently get myself into a brawl due to the many insults my sharp tongue would launch at him. If there was one thing I’d learnt over the years, it was that my mouth was quite adept at getting me into serious trouble. It had earned me a black eye on more occasions than I cared to count, especially on the football field during my teenage years. So, with difficulty, I bit my unruly tongue and faced away.

  Jason appeared to notice my riled state, so he merely gave the bloke a nod before he turned his back to him as well.

  “What’s got you into such a foul mood?” he mumbled very quietly after some time.

  I lost it. “Men who constantly sexualise women, as if their primary purpose is to please us – as if their personality and intellect are of secondary importance. I wish they’d understand that – by behaving that way – they’re doing us all a great disservice.”

  “Are you talking to me, mate?” the bloke questioned behind me, menacingly.

  I turned towards him, my muscles tensing as my stance grew hostile. I hated violence of any sort, but if he attacked, I was prepared to defend myself. “Well, since you ask, you must have identified with the men I’m referring to.”

  His brown eyes lit with anger, and I could tell he was considering whether to strike me. Judging by the width of him, I was confident he had steroids to thank for the size of his muscles. I was still stronger than him, however, and much taller. He’d be no match for me. Studying me from head to toe, he seemed to realise the same, so he took a step back and clenched his narrow jaw.

  I growled, “Why do you think she was wearing a jumper to cover her arse?”

  He pressed his lips together but said nothing.

  “And yet you sexualise her anyway,” I spat.

  “Will,” Jason intervened, grabbing my shoulder. “Calm down.”

  “Sorry,” the lad murmured. “I meant no disrespect.”

  “Try thinking next time, yeah? With something other than your cock.” I turned away from him and grabbed my bag. “I’m finished,” I said to Jason. “I’ll wait outside.” Giving the lad a final glare, I headed out.

  Prejudice led me to surprise when I discovered Cara there, leaning against the wall with her phone in her hand. In my experience, women tended to be slower than us when it came to changing and getting ready, but I supposed this was just yet another rule she was an exception to.

  I knew I owed her an apology, so I drew in a steadying breath before I approached. I’d hardly managed three steps by the time she noticed me, and the look she gave me told me I wasn’t forgiven yet.

  The instant I reached her, I said, “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “You’re honestly such a knob, Will.” She shoved her phone into the front pocket of her jumper. “I’m trying to put it behind me.”

  “Pun intended?” I joked, hoping to lighten her mood.

  She gaped, and soon enough, an incredulous titter poured out. “Okay, that was funny, but I’m being serious. You’ve got to let me move on.”

  I knew she hadn’t meant to injure my feelings by saying that, but she did, nevertheless. “I’m having a hard time doing it myself. Perhaps that’s why I keep bringing it up,” I explained sincerely.

  Sympathy I hadn’t foreseen emerged from her features, and she looked about to say something, but right before she could, Jason interrupted.

  “Fucking hell, Cara,” he said upon reaching us. “I was just telling Will I find you hot, and he went and accused me of sexualising you. Do you feel sexualised? Because my conscience is seriously suffering right now, so I’d—”

  “Jason – what?” She frowned, and I had averted my eyes by the time she searched for them. “You call me beautiful every day,” she eventually continued, and I considered that to be valuable information. “Of course I don’t think that.”

  “Right, good.” He let out a breath of relief. “Will got me thinking, you see. Actually, he nearly got into a scuffle with another lad just now, defending you.”

  Though my intention hadn’t been to defend solely Cara, but rather women overall, I was grateful he told her that. Perhaps hearing this would make her consider me in a favourable
light.

  “He did what?” Cara asked, astounded. Sensing her eyes on my profile, I looked over to meet them.

  “Yeah.” Jason nodded. “This random guy declared – unsolicited – that he found you hot, and Will lost it. I’m honestly quite proud.”

  I knitted my brows. Important details had been left out. I didn’t want Cara to get the impression I was prone to violence either, because I wasn’t. “It was the way he said it,” I defended myself. “He sounded primitive. It pissed me off, especially when you—” I motioned towards her—“were wearing a jumper to hide your bum. It might as well have been a bloody placard, and he ignored it. I wasn’t looking for a fight – I despise violence. I’d never hit someone first. I merely meant to rebuke him.”

  Cara’s deep blue eyes grew warmer, almost inviting. Seeing it, I forgot everything else. The effect it had on me was far more severe than I’d been prepared for. This wasn’t normal, I thought, perplexed.

  “Thanks, Will,” she said, and I hated the smile she wore. She was supposed to grow weak for me, not the other way around – and yet, when I looked at her, I could sense that my strength was waning.

  I gave her a faint nod. Looking between her and Jason, I found my situation quite intolerable. With too many thoughts to sort through all at once, I started towards the exit. “I’m heading off. I’ll see you for dinner.”

  § § §

  There was quite the deluge outside, but I’d decided to walk home in spite of it, hoping to clear my mind. After fifteen minutes, I had got no further with sorting out my thoughts, so – eager for a distraction – I fished my phone out of my bag to check my messages. There was one from Andy and one from my good friend Alexander Winton. The three of us had been a trio ever since primary school, although I supposed Jason was an uncounted member of it as well.

  I opened Andy’s first.

  ‘I’m heading to Alex. Care to join?’

  Instead of replying, I opened Alexander’s message.

  ‘Andy’s coming over. I’d appreciate your moral support. I’ve no doubt he means to complain about Chloe, and you’re much better than I am at putting him in his place’

  With a groan, I halted to reply to Alex.

  ‘You’ll have to manage on your own. I’ve got dinner plans with the fam. Just tell him he’s being an idiot. He knows it’s true, deep down’

  Poor Chloe. I truly pitied her. Over the years, both Alexander and I had grown to regard her as a sister. She wasn’t just Andy’s girlfriend to us. Because of that, we had taken her side in the aftermath of their paused relationship. Besides, we both knew it was only a matter of time before Andy would come padding back to her, because his love for her was undying. Their issues weren’t based on a lack of love, but rather on a difference of opinion on how to proceed in the future.

  Chloe desperately wanted to conceive, and she was growing short on time. Four years ago, she’d been diagnosed with endometriosis, which was a condition that could affect her fertility. The older she got, the slimmer her chances of conceiving would become. Like Andy and Alex, she was twenty-nine now, and she had waited a whole decade for Andy to become mature enough to father a child. The trouble was that Andy didn’t feel ready. The idea of children frightened him. He’d voiced concerns about whether he was fit for the role at all and frequently hid behind the excuse that he wanted to focus on his career for a while longer, which – understandably – Chloe had grown impatient with.

  All she demanded was a clear answer: did he want children, or not? If he didn’t, he had to let her go. But Andy did want children. He’d told me several times. However, he wasn’t sure he was fit for fatherhood at this point in his life.

  It was quite the dilemma, but I was convinced Andy was overthinking it. As soon as he held his baby in his arms, he’d settle into being a father without trouble.

  A message came in from Francesca then, and I was immediately reminded that I still hadn’t replied to her last text.

  ‘Sorry if this seems clingy, but are we meeting tomorrow or not? I’d like to know so that I can make other plans if you’ve changed your mind x’

  “Fuck,” I muttered to myself and resumed walking. I’d marked her text as read, something I always did because I favoured transparency, but now it had cost me the time I otherwise could have spent contemplating her offer. I’d have to respond soon.

  I wondered if Kate knew about us. We hadn’t spoken all that much since the end of our relationship five years ago. As I thought about it, I couldn’t remember having spoken to her at all during the past year. She lived in Lancaster now with her new boyfriend, whose name was Matthew – an engineer like her.

  Kate and I had met during my final year at Cambridge. We were only bed partners when I’d met Francesca for the first time. It wasn’t until I was about to move back to London to complete the LPC LLM at the University of Law that we had agreed to try a relationship. At first, things had been stable, and I had often gone back to Cambridge to visit her. But, as time went on, my career had demanded more and more of my time and attention. In the end, our relationship had fallen apart, but I hadn’t tried to save it either.

  Following our split, I hadn’t thought I would meet Francesca again, and I certainly hadn’t thought that I would ever end up in bed with her. When we’d first met, there had been no spark between us whatsoever – at least not from my perspective. Since she was Kate’s childhood friend, I’d been polite, but I remembered I had questioned how a bright mind like Kate’s could endure the dullness of Francesca’s.

  Then, by some coincidence, I’d encountered her a few weeks before I’d first met Cara. She’d visited Disrepute with a few fellow models while I was having a drink with my colleagues. Violet had been there as well, but she’d left early to meet Clive – a man she was currently seeing unofficially and had yet to make up her mind about.

  Nevertheless, her departure that night had made way for Francesca and me to rekindle our past friendship. She’d told me she had split from the boyfriend she’d had when we first met – Oliver, whom I had also met a few times – and that she had plans to move from Southampton to London in the near future.

  As a precaution, I’d asked whether she still kept in touch with Kate, but she’d explained they’d drifted apart over the last couple of years, and that was the only reason I’d agreed to meet her for a date the following week. While I had never loved Kate romantically, I still had tremendous respect for her. For that reason, I would never think of courting one of her closest friends, and I especially wouldn’t while knowing I had completely broken her heart. It would only have rubbed salt into the wound, and I wanted to avoid that.

  However, since they were no longer close, I’d agreed to go on a date. I hadn’t expected much from it, but the endeavour had turned out to be endurable, and I’d even gone so far as to end it with her in my bed. While she’d been recovering beside me, her naked body damp with sweat, she had confessed to lusting after me even while I was with Kate and she with Oliver, and that she’d been infatuated with me back then.

  The news had upset me at first because I did not appreciate the disloyalty it implied towards Kate, but upon remembering that she was no longer part of our lives, I had put it out of my mind. Besides, she’d never acted on it, and I could hardly hold her human errors against her. We were all guilty of having thoughts and feelings that would be considered immoral if acted upon, but that was the critical distinction – they required the act in order to be punished as immoral.

  We’d met six more times since then because – and it was an awful thing to admit – her presence in my life had become a matter of convenience for sexual purposes. Though she wasn’t the brightest, she was a pleasant person – she could even be funny sometimes – and she was capable of arousing me, so I’d seen no reason to end it. Recently, however, I had sensed that her attachment was becoming stronger than I was comfortable with. While she was perfectly cha
rming, I remained uncertain about whether to pursue things further, because our chemistry had never been effortless. Unlike Cara, she didn’t fascinate me in the slightest, and I considered initial fascination a necessary requirement when it came to my romantic endeavours.

  There I went again. Cara, Cara, Cara – as if I hadn’t a life of my own, as if she were the only person worth my attention in the entire world.

  I now compared every potential candidate to her. Ever since we’d met, she had become the standard I sought, and nothing else would suffice. I no longer enjoyed Violet’s moans of pleasure because they weren’t Cara’s, and I seemed unable to admire Francesca’s beauty because it wasn’t Cara’s.

  The reality angered me to the extent that I acted on emotion and replied to Francesca that I’d be delighted to see her tomorrow. Foolish in my misery, I hoped I could fill the void that Cara had left behind with the attention of other women.

  I was desperate to regain control because Cara’s presence in my life made me feel powerless. In her audience, it was like I no longer reigned over my own mind, much less my body, and if there was one thing that frightened me above all, it was to be rendered powerless.

  And yet, despite that, I experienced an incessant need to see her again. It was entirely compulsive, and I couldn’t seem to resist it no matter how hard I tried.

  Dinner couldn’t commence soon enough.

  § § §

  “I’m very sorry to hear about Chloe and Andy,” Mum said after a sip of her favourite red wine. “Surely they’ll get back together soon enough. This isn’t the first time they’ve hit a bump in the road.”

  I said, “I agree. I’m convinced it’s only temporary. Andy will see sense soon enough.”

  “I trust you and Alex will make sure of that,” Dad commented, and as I looked at him across the table, I discovered a smirk on his mouth.