A Brit on the Side (Castle Calder Book 1) (18 page)

K
nowing
I have to tell Scarlett about Jasper and me doesn’t actually make it any easier for me to tell her. Especially when I continue to meet him in the attic every night and it becomes clear this thing between us is capital B Big.

The night before Scarlett, Claire, and I leave for London, my bare legs are tangled with Jasper’s and he’s drawing letters on my back as I guess the words. It’s a game we’ve started playing the past few nights, and it runs the gamut from X-rated to innocent and everything in between. Tonight’s version is veering straight into sappy. So far, Jasper’s words have spelled “miss you already” and, this last one, “hurry home.”

“It’s only two nights.” I lean over to graze my teeth on his shoulder.

“Only?” Jasper kisses me softly. “You underestimate how long two nights can be.”

“Think how much more you’ll appreciate me when I come back. Don’t they say absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

“You’re obviously unaware of how fond of you I am already.” Jasper raises an eyebrow behind his glasses, sitting crookedly on his face. “It’s reaching rather dangerous levels.”

I laugh. “You make it sound like lead poisoning.”

“Symptoms of lead poisoning include sleep problems, memory loss and numbness or tingling in extremities. Sounds strangely similar to Bea poisoning.” Jasper smiles.

“I’m not sure that’s flattering, actually.” I punch him lightly in the arm. “The poison part. I’m totally on board with tingling in your extremities.”

“Obviously.” Jasper kisses me again, harder this time. We haven’t fooled around tonight because of the appearance of Aunt Flow, but that hasn’t stopped us from losing most of our clothes anyway. Nor has it stopped either one of us from getting turned on. Probably not the best combination.

I break away when his hand wanders to my breast. “Speaking of tingling extremities, I’m leaving for two nights.”

Before he can speak, I put two fingers over his mouth and untangle my legs from his. My mouth works its way down his chest and I drag my breasts across his abdomen before flicking my tongue over the tip of Jasper’s very erect penis. I haven’t given him a blow job yet, a fact of which I am ultra-aware because, well, reciprocity. To say Jasper’s been generous in that regard is an understatement in the extreme. And my reluctance isn’t for lack of wanting to reciprocate. It’s more the mechanics of it getting in my way.

Specifically, the fact when I’m kneeling in front of him, there’s no hiding the way my flabby stomach hangs down. It’s a ridiculous thing to think about, especially in the moment, but I’ve spent too much of my life being self-conscious about my body to suddenly forget it. Moment or no moment.

“Turn off the lights,” I whisper. My hand cups his balls.

Jasper props himself up on his elbows so he can see me better and shakes his head. “I can’t.”

I keep my stomach on the mattress and put my mouth where my hands were, sucking gently. “I think you can.”

“Maybe.” Jasper’s breath hitches and I think he’s going to reach over, but instead he reaches for me, his hand cupping the back of my neck. “But why would I want to?”

“Because you want me to take you in my mouth.” I put the tip of his penis in my mouth, then take it back out again.

“God, yes, I do. But I need to watch you do it.” Jasper’s fingers dig into my skin. “I need to see my cock going in and out of your gorgeous mouth.”

Okay. Not helping with how turned on I am already.

I graze my teeth along his shaft. “Well, because you asked so nicely.”

I scoot my knees up and kneel in front of Jasper. The light is low, but it’s still right next to the bed. It takes most of my willpower not to reach over to flick it off, even as I chastise myself. Jasper’s not critiquing my body and it’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked. Most of the time I’ve been too caught up to worry about whatever unflattering position he might see me in. Now, though, it’s all me, my body on full display. I try not to look up at him, until at the last minute I let my eyes wander up his chest and they find his. Which are locked on me and full of what can only be called adoration.

I bite my bottom lip and in the next instant he sits up, pulling me against him, crushing my mouth against his. His hands palm my ass and I writhe against him. The thin fabric of my panties between us creates a delicious friction, which Jasper intensifies by thrusting against me. His mouth moves to my neck and in between kissing me he says, “You are so bloody gorgeous.”

“I’m not.” The words come out softly, but they come out.

Jasper stops. Everything. His hips stop moving, his mouth leaves my neck, and his hands move from my ass to my waist. He pushes his glasses back up his nose, leaning against the headboard. His voice is gravelly when he says, “Whoever’s made you believe you’re anything less than beautiful deserves to be shot.”

My face flames. Hell, it feels like my whole body is on fire from a combination of embarrassment and desire. “Jasper, I --”

His hands move from my waist to my shoulders. “I don’t know how it’s possible no one has ever worshipped you, but let me assure you, those days are behind you.”

I manage a tiny smile. “Worship is a strong word.”

“Not if you’re a goddess. Did you know Aphrodite is often portrayed with black hair?” Jasper twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. “Coincidence? I think not.”

My smile grows by a degree. “Most Greek goddesses probably had black hair. You know, because they’re Greek.”

“Surprisingly untrue. I went through a Greeks and Romans phase back when I was about thirteen. Trust me on this.” Jasper smiles, but it’s fleeting. “Also, not the point. You’re beautiful and I hate you don’t know that.”

Beautiful? No. My mother would say it’s what’s on the inside that counts. Theo would say I’m attractive, but more running/walking/stretching could only help. I’ve been degrees of pretty – with caveats – but never beautiful, and Jasper saying it doesn’t make it true.

Except a small voice in my head says,
But you’re beautiful to him.
And I think here in this tiny attic room, maybe that’s the truth that matters, at least right now. Because as I’m sitting on his legs, my breasts heavy, stomach soft, thighs splayed, Jasper’s not critiquing my body. He’s basking in it. He has since the first night way back in Atlanta.

The realization makes me brave. Well, braver. I smile and say, “You know what I do know? I know you’re distracting me.”

I lean in for another kiss, breaking off before it gets too intense. Then I lick my way down his chest until I get back to where I was before, kneeling between his legs, my hand on his shaft. This time, when I glimpse my stomach, I close my eyes and let desire take over.

When I take Jasper in my mouth he moans, and when I do open my eyes again, his are half closed, but still on me. I take my mouth away and substitute my hand. As it slides up and down his slick shaft, his breath catches. “Bloody hell, Bea.”

“Do you like that?” I don’t wait for him to answer before taking him in my mouth again, working my mouth and hand in sync.

Jasper’s breathing changes and his abs tense. “I’m going to come in a minute.”

I move faster and when he comes in my mouth, it’s with a strangled cry. He’s barely finished before he leans down and yanks me up his chest, kissing me so hard my mouth feels bruised. It’s a kiss I could drown in, except in the next minute, his hand is between my legs and I make myself struggle to the surface.

“Jasper, I can’t --”

I don’t get out any more than that because his fingers play over my clit and, my God, it feels amazing. He knows exactly how to touch me and my back arches in a silent request for more, even as the self-conscious part of me whispers I should stop. I have my period, for God’s sake, and even though I’m a firm believer in tampons and being as discreet as possible, Theo never touched me then. We never said much about it, but it was an unspoken rule. I’d thought it was my rule as much as Theo’s, but now I’m not so sure. Especially as I feel the first threads of an orgasm begin to build.

Jasper kisses me again. This time long and slow and deep. His hand between my legs is hard and fast. The kiss combined with the pressure of his fingers is my undoing. My breathing becomes uneven and the crescendo builds until I’m gasping. When Jasper’s fingers push me over the edge, it’s all consuming. I actually feel it in my toes.

When I finally stop shaking, I’m clinging to him, my fingernails digging into his shoulder. “My God. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Jasper kisses my forehead. “Well, I couldn’t let you go off to London sexually frustrated, could I?”

I lean back, furrowing my brow. “Um, what?”

“When you’re aroused it’s nearly impossible not to respond to you.” Jasper’s finger traces my clavicle. “Besides, what kind of man would I be to leave you frustrated because of a minor inconvenience?”

“Obviously you are not that kind of man at all.” I let the thought floating in the back of my mind find its way to my tongue. “Were you worried if you didn’t put out my fire, so to speak, someone else would?”

Jasper’s eyes flicker down. Only for a moment, but it’s enough. “Maybe.”

“And how would you feel about that?” The question is out before I can bite it back.

This time Jasper meets my gaze full on. “Like shit. How would you feel about it?”

“Like shit.” I bite my lip because we’ve started this conversation now. We may as well finish it. “Are you talking about leaving me high and dry or about hooking up with someone else?”

“Both. But mostly the latter.” Jasper smiles a little, then it fades. “The thought of you with someone else is…”

“Devastating.” I say it before he can downplay it.

“I was going to say soul destroying, but devastating works.” Jasper pauses. “I keep thinking it’s too soon. I have no right to impose my feelings on you. Especially on the eve of your trip to London, where Scarlett and Claire intend to pull as much as possible.”

“What if it’s not an imposition?” My heart starts a slow gallop in my chest. This is a cliff edge and I’m about to dive off. Three. Two. “What if I don’t want anyone but you?”

“I’d think myself the luckiest man on earth.” Jasper’s voice is soft.

“Well. I guess it’s your lucky day then.” I smile and it grows with Jasper’s until we’re lying there grinning at each other like idiots. I feel sated and light and happy. Like I just won the lottery. But richer.

M
y euphoria lasts exactly
eleven hours and twenty-three minutes. Until I sneak down the back stairs with Jasper and he kisses me, pulling me against him as he twists the handle on the door.

Which opens and causes us to stumble out onto the gravel drive.

Right into Scarlett. And Hannah.

Jasper’s arm is around my waist. Mine circles his shoulders. This is almost more incriminating than the fact I’m wearing the same clothes I had on yesterday. But nothing is as bad as the fact Jasper and I are laughing and lip locked long enough for both of them to be standing there, arms crossed, by the time we realize they’re there at all.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Scarlett’s scarf floating on the breeze and I freeze. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. But then Jasper steps away from me like I’m on fire and when I glance at him, it’s obvious. This is so happening.

“Mum. Sorry about that,” Jasper says. To Scarlett he says, “Please. Before you blow a gasket, listen.”

Scarlett doesn’t say anything until I look at her. Her skin is pale and the wind blows her hair into unruly waves. But it’s her eyes that have all of my attention. They’re as hard and cold as her voice when she speaks. “You and Jaz. Of all people.”

“Scarlett, I didn’t mean…” I start

Hannah talks over me. “Scarlett, darling, I think…”

And Jasper. “I know what you’re thinking.”

This is what gets Scarlett’s attention. She whirls around towards Jasper so fast I think for a minute she might hit him. “Do you? You know what I’m thinking?”

“I know you’re thinking of Sam, but this isn’t the same,” Jasper says.

He opens his mouth to continue, but Scarlett beats him to it. “Fuck Sam. This is about you, Jaz. You.” She spits out the word. “Taking advantage. Taking vulnerabilities as invitations. Taking uncertainties as opportunities. If there was ever anyone ripe for the picking, it’s Bea, for fuck’s sake and, oh, look, here you’ve gone and plucked her right up. She’s not a challenge or a project or an experiment. She’s my best friend – who probably fancies herself in love with you, whether she’s said it or not. How do you take that? In your usual bait-and-switch fashion? Telling her she’s gorgeous one minute and not your type the next? Or wait, let me guess. You make her feel special and then when she falls for you, you remind her you’re a serious scientist and a relationship isn’t in this year’s plan, sorry, not sorry?”

What?

Scarlett turns on her heel and stomps off around towards the front of the castle. I let her because I’m not sure what to respond to first. The fact she accused Jasper of taking advantage of me? Or that she accused me of being in love with him – in front of him? Or that last thing.

That last thing takes every one of my insecurities and dumps them like a bucket of ice water over my head, slowly freezing my heart.

I turn to Jasper and say, “Is that what this is? Some kind of challenge? See how far you can get before you say, ‘Oops, sorry. Kidding.’”

“No. Jesus, Bea. What do you take me for?” Jasper’s hurt expression is real.

“Bea, Scarlett’s angry and lashing out,” Hannah says. “Her finding out this way isn’t ideal.”

The way Hannah says this makes me feel pretty certain she knew about Jasper and me well before now. My tone is careful as I say, “And how did you find out?”

“I didn’t find out, per se. But I know my son.” Hannah’s eyes are soft, even if her tone isn’t.

“I guess that makes one of us.” I keep my eyes trained on Jasper as I speak, willing him to say something to contradict Scarlett’s words ringing in my head. When he doesn’t, I force myself to ask, “That’s what happened with Sam, isn’t it? Why Scarlett’s so dead set against you and me? You wanted Sam until you had her, but once you had her, she was a lot less than you’d imagined. You started fighting and one thing led to another.”

“I was eighteen, Bea.” Jasper’s voice is low and weary. “I understand Scarlett’s inability to forgive me, even though I resent that she defines me by a relationship I had when I barely knew myself. But I won’t let you judge me by my sister’s words. I thought I’d proven myself, if not to her then at least to you.”

Jasper doesn’t wait for me to respond. He turns and goes back in through the door we tumbled out of without a backwards glance. I stare after him for a second before turning back to Hannah. Who’s got a look on her face like someone killed her favorite pet. Or hurt her only son.

“I --” I start, but Hannah holds up her palm to stop me.

“They don’t mean to put you in the middle, but it doesn’t mean they won’t,” Hannah says.

“Scarlett’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” My voice is soft when I speak, almost like I’m talking to myself.

And Jasper?

Hannah doesn’t ask, but the words hang between us like she shouted them. All the same, I’m glad they’re silent. And gladder still when she turns and starts walking towards the tennis courts.

For my part, I don’t know what to do. Scarlett’s probably in her room, but for all I know Jasper went to the family apartment too, and I’m not ready to respond to his comment. Nor am I ready to acknowledge the tension between them and what it has to do with me. Or not.

I decide on the cabin. In theory, we’re leaving for London in an hour and I’ve got to pack. Fuck. London. What sounded so amazing yesterday as Scarlett, Claire, and I pored over the
TimeOut London
app now sounds awful. Sharing a meal, never mind a hotel room…

But I’ve only got two weeks left. If I miss this trip, I’ll miss my chance. And what will I do if I stay? Hide in the kitchen and try to avoid Jasper until things cool off? Or worse, hide in the kitchen and fail to avoid Jasper until things cool off? I’m not convinced Scarlett’s right about him, but what if she’s not one hundred percent wrong either? If I stay, he’s either going to try too hard or not try at all. Either way makes my stomach churn like I’ve eaten too many jalapenos.

I burst through the cabin door ready to tell Claire everything, but when I step inside, Scarlett leans against the kitchen counter, sipping a cup of tea, and I stop dead in my tracks, letting the door bang shut behind me.

Scarlett looks up. Her eyes are still cool, but not as icy as they were before. “Bea. We were just talking about you.”

“I thought about it on the way over here. If you don’t want me to room with you, it’s fine. I’ll find somewhere else to stay. I mean, London’s a huge city, right? There’s got to be tons of hotels.” I hear myself babbling, but I can’t stop. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about --”

“Don’t.” Scarlett’s voice is sharp. “Everything can go ahead as planned on one condition. I don’t want to discuss my brother, or you and my brother, at all.”

My eyes dart to Claire, whose face is impassive, although her eyes volley from me and Scarlett and back again. “Um, I’m not sure that’s going to work.”

“I’m not sure there’s a hotel room big enough to fit the three of us and that elephant if you two don’t talk about it,” Claire says.

“Wait.” Scarlett narrows her eyes at Claire. “You knew?”

Claire half nods, half shrugs. “Sort of. I mean, it didn’t take a rocket scientist.”

“Nice.” Scarlett’s tone is icy as she crosses her arms over her chest and turns her attention back to me. “What’s your plan for London?”

“Why can’t we talk about this?” I furrow my brow. “I mean, it’s not like you and Jasper are archenemies. I know hooking up with him wasn’t part of the deal, but Claire’s right. Not talking about it makes it the elephant in the room.”

Scarlett’s mouth twists and I know before she speaks she’s going to be mean. “Well, look at you wanting to handle this like an adult. Funny how the time for that would have been before you fucked my brother. Not that you need my permission. Obviously, you can fuck whom you’d like. And, bloody hell, look. You have.”

Claire steps up and puts her hand on Scarlett’s arm. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s not.” Scarlett’s face drops for a minute, but I blink and her mask is back. “But there’s a lot of things that strike me as unfair right now. Like the fact my so-called best friend confided in someone else rather than tell me the truth. And the fact it’s not just Bea, but both of you keeping secrets. It pisses me off, quite frankly.”

“I’m sorry…” Claire and I start at the same time.

Scarlett holds her hand up. “Don’t. I don’t want talk about it and I sure as hell don’t want to think about it right now. I’m going to London for this interview. The end. We can all go and have a great time, but I won’t hash this out before or during our trip.”

“After?” I ask.

“If you insist.” Scarlett rolls her eyes, then plasters on a smile. “Speaking of, we need to leave for the train. If you’re coming, you should pack.”

It’s not an invitation, exactly, but I’m pretty sure it’s the best I’m going to get. I swore to myself ten minutes ago I was better off going to London than not, so I head to my bedroom to throw clothes in a bag.

I have no idea what I pack, since my time isn’t spent actually looking at the clothes I pulled from my drawers, but eavesdropping on Scarlett going over travel arrangements with Claire. True to her word, she doesn’t say another thing about Jasper and me or about Claire knowing the truth, and the first opportunity I have to talk to Claire alone is somewhere in the middle of England as the train barrels through field after field of sheep.

We’ve all been sitting on tenterhooks- Scarlett staring out the window with headphones in, Claire pretending to read, and me flipping through a magazine. Occasionally one of us says something innocuous, but it’s a long way from conversation. Scarlett finally gets up to go to the bathroom and I wait until the sliding door closes behind her before leaning over to Claire and saying, “What the hell? This is a nightmare.”

She lets out a long breath. “Give me your ten second version of what happened with you, her, and Jaz.”

Ten seconds? I can do it in three. “Jasper and I hooked up. Scarlett found out. She’s pissed.”

“And she’s pissed because it’s not just a hook up?” Claire asks.

For the first time since Jasper and I tumbled out that door, I let myself think about last night. I stayed all night because I couldn’t stand to leave and the extra hours were worth the risk of sneaking back to the cabin in full daylight. I wonder if I’d still think that if it weren’t for the accusations Scarlett hurled at Jasper ringing in my head.

“She’s pissed because it’s her best friend and her brother. Again.” My voice is flat. “And she’s doubly pissed because I told you, not her.”

“I don’t think she’s pissed at you. At me, maybe, because she feels like I’m taking her friend away, even though we both know I most definitely am not. I think maybe she’s scared?” Claire asks this like a question, but her whole body says it’s not.

“Of what? She told me about Sam and --” I start.

“Sam and Jasper were a bright flare that sparked and fizzled pretty quickly. Yes, it had tragic consequences, but it was never going to last.” Claire flicks her hand like she’s brushing off a fly. “You and Jaz are a slow burn. What if you ignite? Where does Scarlett fit in that bonfire? Answer? She doesn’t.”

“Of course she does. I refuse to believe she’s acting this way because she’s jealous. I think she genuinely believes she’s protecting me.”

“And that’s why she’s so pissed at me? Because I don’t have your best interests at heart?” Claire’s eyebrows go up.

My mouth forms an O, but I don’t get to respond because Scarlett walks down the swaying train car and lurches back into her seat. She completely ignores our earlier tension, even though now I’ve got Claire’s words echoing through my head loud enough to give me one hell of a headache. “Okay, girlies. What’s our plan? I’m meeting with Mr. Waring-Smith tomorrow at ten, but we have this afternoon and, more importantly, tonight.”

Scarlett wriggles her eyebrows and Claire laughs as she says, “We have to show Bea some touristy things. The Tower of London and a cheesy photo in front of Buckingham Palace are mandatory, I think.”

I gape at Claire, who’s so clearly going along with Scarlett’s moratorium on discussing anything of substance. Why is she doing this?

“Agreed. Also, Harrods so she can say she’s been,” Scarlett says. She turns to me. “We’re staying pretty close to the National Portrait Gallery and the Tate Modern if you want to get your culture fix, too.”

I nod. It’s pretty much the first thing Scarlett’s said to me directly since we left Castle Calder, so I reply. “That sounds good. If you want to go too we can go this afternoon?”

“I think I’m probably more in a Tower of London type of mood myself. A little head chopping, even vicariously, sounds right up my street.” Scarlett’s expression hardens, even though her tone remains light.

“Henry VIII, I am, I am. Henry VIII, I am,” Claire sing-songs, then rolls her eyes at her off-key tune. “The fake crown jewels are there, too, don’t forget.”

“Are they really fake?” I ask. “I thought the jewels in the tower were still used for state functions? That’s what the website said.”

“Who’d want to visit a fake?” Scarlett says. Then her mouth turns into a slight sneer. “However false advertising has its merits. Obviously.”

Scarlett’s being a complete bitch, Claire’s letting her, and I’m not sure what I’m doing. What I am sure of is that I don’t have to put up with it. I clench my jaw and stand up. “I’m going to go find the café car and get a coffee. Does anyone want anything?”

Claire asks for tea, Scarlett for a white coffee, and I set off through the aisle, trying not to fall. The café car is two carriages down, and by the time I get there, I’m queasy from the swaying of the train. Thankfully there are stools near the window and I fall onto one, closing my eyes. I’m in no hurry to get back to Scarlett and her snark anyway, but I’m pretty sure if I ventured back now, I’d end up vomiting on someone’s head.

It takes a good three minutes before I feel well enough to open my eyes and another two before I’m ready to look around. The café car is tidy, except for a countertop littered with empty sugar packets and wooden stirrer sticks for hot drinks. The girl behind the counter leans against the wall, immersed in her phone. She has a faint smile on her face and I wonder what she’s looking at. Her smile grows and I decide not to interrupt her yet, digging my own phone out of my bag.