Commitment Issues by Ali Ryecart

Chapter Twenty-Four

Elliot

I stick my head into the bedroom, through the open verandah doors, but the room’s empty. My gaze falls to the bed, and I swallow hard.

It’s dishevelled. No, it’s more than that, it’s wrecked. My skin heats with the memory.

Freddie had been wild, beautiful as he’d come undone, every groan and gasp and moan making me feel more alive, more wanted, than I’ve felt in so, so long.

We’ve crossed a line. Sex had never been part of the deal. From the start, I’ve been at pains to make it clear it never was, that there was no expectation. Yet, wasn’t what happened been exactly what I’d wanted? What had he said, last night? That it’d been agony knowing I was on the other side of the door. Had he sought the comfort of his hand, the way I had?

We’re adults. Two consenting adults, we took what we wanted and needed, when we wanted, when we needed. But, somehow, the argument doesn’t wash. I feel like I’ve taken advantage, somehow, that despite what we agreed, the power to throw aside the unwritten contract always lay with me. Yet, Freddie’s no pushover. If he hadn’t wanted last night to happen, he’d have said no and meant it.

It all goes around and around in my head, getting me nowhere.

Everything’s so quiet, and I guess my fellow guests are all sleeping in late. The door to the en-suite’s closed, and that’s when I notice the soft thrum of the shower. He’ll be out soon, and then we need to talk. I turn to go, to wait for him in the lounge, when I spot something on the floor and cringe.

The condom, lying flat and wrinkled like a discarded sausage skin, by the side of the bed. How the hell hadn’t I seen it when I’d crept, before the sun had barely risen, to shower quickly, before camping out on the sofa, not brave enough to slip back in bed with Freddie and pull him in close? I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to stem the nascent headache. Christ, I can’t let him find it when he comes back into the bedroom. I dart in and grab it up, wrinkling my nose. It’s cold and slippery between my thumb and forefinger, heavy and dangling like some kind of obscene pendulum.

I need to get rid of it, but I don’t want to risk opening the bedroom door, because it squeaks, so I head out the way I’ve come in, stepping into the bright glare of another hot day, ready to re-enter the cottage through the lounge. I don’t get more than a couple of steps when my name’s called out.

“Elliot?”

Gavin, on the footpath leading up from the beach. His hair’s wet and sticking to his head, droplets of sea water cling to his skin. There’s no way I want him to see what’s in my hand, and I try to flick it into a terracotta pot filled with bright flowers, just for now, before I can get rid of it properly, but it sticks to my fingers like a giant gob of chewing gum.

Gavin stares at the condom, his lips pursed in distaste.

“I assume you’re going to dispose of that in an environmentally friendly manner?”

“I was just about to take it down to the beach and chuck it out to sea.”

“Very droll. Well, I’m happy to see you’re taking precautions, because you never can tell, can you?”

I suck in a deep breath, counting the numbers in my head the way I’ve done so many times with Gavin, levelling my anger, frustration, and sometimes tears.

“I don’t like your insinuation, but you’re right about precautions. Protecting one’s partner and showing them respect is an important part of any relationship. It’s just a shame you never did that.”

Colour, high and blotchy, rises up in his cheeks.

“I made mistakes. I realise that, but I’ve learnt from them. The hard way.” He casts a quick glance at the cottage, then back at me, and takes a couple of steps as he lowers his voice. “I understand you want to get back at me. To teach me a lesson. To show me that another man—”

“You think this is about getting back at you? I—”

“Ells, there you are. Whoops.”

Freddie, clad in nothing more than a towel hanging low on his hips, flings the flimsy curtain open and steps out onto the verandah, swiping the condom from my fingers. He smiles at me, all coy, from beneath his lashes, before he slides his gaze over to Gavin.

“Sorry about that, Gav. Should’ve disposed of the evidence last night, but we were so tired. Exhausted, in fact.” He smirks, as he holds the condom in one hand, sweeping the fingers of the other through his wet hair, the movement causing the towel draped around his waist to shift, revealing a glimpse of golden fuzz. My throat thickens, along with my dick.

Christ, but he’s gorgeous. Young and full of vitality, the sun shining on his lightly tanned skin and cloaking him in a golden glow. I cast a glance at Gavin. The tick in his jaw’s working overtime, the only indication of what he’s feeling beneath his bland expression.

“Come on, babe, I’ve got something hot and steamy for you. A nice cup of tea,” Freddie says, laughing, as he takes my hand and leads me inside, swinging around and dismissing Gavin as though he’s not worth the effort of a goodbye.

And he’s not.

* * *

“Tea?” I ask, when Freddie appears in the kitchen area, dressed in loose shorts and an old T-shirt with the faded name of a band I’ve never heard of emblazoned across the front.

“Please,” he mumbles, thrusting his hands into his pockets, shifting from foot to foot. “When I saw you out there, with—with that thing—”

“The condom, or Gavin?” I say, filling the mugs with boiling water.

“Well, erm, both I guess.”

I pour milk into the drinks and hand one across. His face is bright red, he’s doing everything he can not to meet my eye, and he’s a world away from the wild, unrestrained man he was last night.

We say nothing as we sip our tea, when so much needs to be said.

“Freddie—”

“Elliot—”

We speak at once, both of us falling silent at once, as we stare at each other over our mugs of tea that we hold up like shields.

This is ridiculous, we’re both grown men, consenting adults… Then why do I feel like a gangly, awkward teenager?

I put my tea down.

“What happened last night, it…” Was everything, more than everything…

But I can’t say the words, because as he gazes at me, his golden hair curling up at the ends where it’s drying, he looks so damn young, barely more than a teenager. And maybe I should be rejoicing in that, smug that I fucked my brains out with a man who’s half my age. But I don’t, because no matter how bright and sharp he is, no matter how the years between us melt away when we talk, and how they melted away last night, he’s young enough to be my son.

“It shouldn’t have happened, because it wasn’t what you were paid for.”

“What?” Freddie’s face drains of colour.

Oh Christ, does he think I’m accusing him of…?

“What I’ve been paid for? You think I had sex with you because I felt obliged? Because it was part of the pre-paid package?”

“Freddie, no. I don’t mean that. I’m sorry. All I meant, before I waded in with my size tens, was that events overtook us. We’d agreed to not get involved.”

“We’re not involved,” he murmurs, his words hitting me hard in the chest. “I’m not used to champagne, so it’s an age-old story, I suppose. Too much drink leading to, well, things they shouldn’t have led to. Put it down to the occasion, because that’s what I’m doing. It was only sex, just a bit of mindless fun, and no big deal. You’ve no need to feel guilty, Elliot.”

Just a bit of mindless fun. Only sex. No big deal. No need for guilt. The tea gurgles in my stomach, acidic and bitter.

I smile so hard, I fear my face will crack and break.

“Good. I’m glad we’ve sorted it out. We’re adults, and like you say, no big deal. I’m going to head up to the villa and then I’ve got some work to do, something that can’t wait. But we’ve got a few hours before we set off for the airport. You could go down to the beach, or use the pool — without me splashing around in a panic.” I hope he says something, anything, about our time in the warm sea, when we placed all our trust in one another. But he doesn’t, he just shakes his head, his face serious and unreadable.

“I’ll probably find a shady spot and read. I’m going to skip breakfast, if you don’t mind, as I want to get packed and sorted out before I head off. I’ll see you later.”

“Sure, whatever you want. Fine.”

Fine? Nothing’s fine, as he disappears into the bedroom and closes the door, leaving me staring after him, stranded, unable to move, too cowardly to go after him.