An Open Lock, page 18
I shake my head and exchange a disbelieving look with Tamara. If I thought E and I had the weirdest relationship dynamic, I was wrong. Steph and Xander take that crown.
Despite the fact that Steph eventually comes out, she doesn’t show any signs of wanting to interact with us. She grabs her food, sticking her middle finger up at Xander before flouncing back to her room. He just seems more amused than ever and I'm left wondering what is going on between them. She would have kicked him out if she genuinely wanted rid of him.
Chapter 21
We have a surprisingly pleasant evening, I even find myself less inclined to cause E bodily harm. I figure he must be in a good mood and decide to take up Xander’s advice.
“E, do you have any brothers or sisters?” I ask, looking down at my food and feigning only a casual interest.
Despite the fact that I can’t see his face, I know he’s staring intently because my skin tingles with the intensity of his glare.
“Yes,” he answers eventually.
“Oh?” I prompt, waiting for more information.
“Pass the pepper, Xander,” E ignores me.
“Are they older or younger?” Tamara continues the interrogation for me so we maintain a united front against the impossibly stubborn and unwaveringly disobliging men.
Xander smirks and glances at Ian who decides to answer. “Younger.
“How many?” I chirp, intent on keeping the flood gates of communication firmly open.
“How many what?” He replies, being purposely obtuse.
I sigh heavily, rubbing my temple with my hands because everything is an uphill battle with this man. I wish he could just answer questions like a normal human being.
“I have seven,” he relents.
“Seven!?” Tamara blurts. “You don’t think that’s a little greedy?”
I can’t help but laugh. I genuinely wasn’t expecting such a large number. I sort of thought he’d be a spoilt only child.
“I collect them,” E answers with a grin. “You can have a few of my brothers if you like.”
“No thanks, one is enough,” I muse, wondering if I should pester Dino for a Skype chat. We haven't spoken in a while and I don't know if he even knows that Mum has not been feeling well. He's trekking around Europe and living like a student rather than accepting that he turns thirty next year.
“Speak of the devils,” E glances at his mobile. I swear it's a different phone to the one I've seen him with previously. The other one looked fairly new, how fast does he get through the things?
“Excuse me,” he apologises, answering the call and stepping away from the breakfast bar.
“Yeah?” He answers the phone curtly.
At least he speaks to me the same way he speaks to family. Maybe I should be honoured that he's rude and abrasive.
“America?” He scowls, lowering his voice, but I can still see his lips.
“What do you mean he's already left?” E demands, ranting at whichever family member is unlucky enough to have called.
It sounds like he's doing damage control so I stop listening because I feel like it might be too personal for me to eavesdrop. I watch Tamara and Xander interact with fascination instead.
I didn't expect Xander to be so playful, he seems so serious, but with Tamara I think he's actually enjoying irritating her and they both seem to bounce off one another. They could become friends. I wonder how much that would annoy Step; she and Tamara obviously don't get on all that well.
Since I'm unintentionally not involved in the conversation, I take the opportunity to text Dino, asking him if we can Skype next time he has Wi-Fi. The last time I spoke to him he was in Poland, but I think he might be in Italy at the moment.
“You okay?” E makes me jump by coming up behind me and kissing the nape of my neck.
I nod, caught slightly off guard by the change in his demeanour. He seemed riled up on the phone, but now he's gentle and relaxed.
“Who are you texting?” He asks casually, but he's not fooling me, I know he feels the need to know everything.
I'm not a particularly private person, but since I still don't know his surname or what he does for a living, it's hardly fair that he keeps asking questions.
“Why does it matter?” I turn around so I'm facing him.
He wraps one arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “Because I asked.”
“If I was texting a male friend, would you give me lecture?” I raise an eyebrow, bravely questioning him.
“No,” he shrugs, “I was just curious.”
I narrow my eyes as him suspiciously, but he gives nothing away. In the end I decide it's pointless to play this game with him and he does seem to appreciate it when I'm open and honest with him.
“I was texting my brother,” I relent. “I haven't spoken to him for a while and our Mum isn't feeling great. I wanted to keep him updated in case he wants to come home and see her.”
“Are you going to see her?” Ian asks, a flicker of concern in his eyes. I'm not sure if he's concerned about my Mum or me going away, but the latter seems more likely.
“Maybe next weekend,” I nod. “I'm not sure yet. Kev wants to come too so I need to talk to him.”
He nods in acknowledgment. “You seem less nervous today.”
“A bit,” I admit. He's making it hard for me to keep still because he's holding me against him with one hand with his other hand tangled in the hair at the nape of my neck, gently massaging, It's quite relaxing and I almost melt at his feet.
“Because you agreed to the rules?” He teases, or at least I hope he's teasing.
“Because you're being less domineering,” I admit. “I don't exactly like pain, Ian. I don't relish the idea of accidentally breaking a rule and ending up black and blue.”
“You talk like I'm going to beat the crap out of you,” he grits his teeth, tensing the muscles of his square jaw.
I shrug because, although I don't think he'd do that, the thought had crossed my mind.
“I'll never mark your skin, Olivia,” he tells me, gently pulling my pony tail so my eyes are forced up to his. “I'll never punish you for fun.”
“Okay,” I murmur, wondering if he has split personality disorder. It's impossible keeping track of his mood. “Can we talk whilst Tamara and Xander are off in their own little world?”
He glances across at his friend and grins, tugging me to the side so that he can lift me up onto the back of the sofa, far enough away from the breakfast bar that we are in relative privacy.
“Are you going to make me wish you were gagged?” His lips pull up to one side. I think he's teasing me, but I wouldn't put it past him.
“I just want to understand something,” I chew my lip nervously.
He reaches up and pulls my lip away from my teeth with the pad of his thumb. “Okay,” he encourages curiously.
“Why don't you ever let me sleep at yours? Or sleep in my bed?”
He looks shocked, I don't think that was the question he expected me to ask. “It bothers you?”
I nod. “I feel used up and thrown away.”
He furrows his brow in concentration. “This isn't a relationship,” he reminds me.
“I know,” I affirm. “It just bothers me.”
E sighs, his hands resting on my hips, applying a small amount of pressure to my waist to ensure I don't fall backwards over the edge of the sofa. “The only woman ever to sleep in my bed was my sister as a child. I don't share my bed, Olivia.”
I nod numbly. So, it's nothing personal; he treats all women like hookers. He's right, it's not a relationship, it's just sex, and so it shouldn't bother me. I let it slide for now because I don't have a good argument as to why we should sleep together.
“Next,” he prompts, manipulating my blouse from within my skirt so he can put his fingers on my skin.
I wish he wouldn't do that. His touch is distracting, and I need all blood cells directed to my brain rather than its southernly counterpart.
“How do you know there's more?” I prompt, steadying my hands on his shockingly firm stomach to make sure I don't fall from my perch on the back of the sofa.
“There's always more with you, Olivia,” he tells me, his lips against the sensitive skin of my neck.
I close my eyes and take a second to enjoy his touch, and the way my pulse flutters beneath his expert, butterfly kisses. It's so tender and gentle that I find it hard to merge this Ian with the man who likes to tie me up, gag me, and spank me.
“Why do I never get to see you naked?” I murmur and I feel him smile against my skin.
“You want to see me naked?” He answers my question with a question because he wouldn't be E if he wasn't a stubborn pain in the butt.
“Yes,” I answer far too quickly. He's gorgeous; why wouldn't I want to see him naked?
“I'll think about it,” he murmurs, returning to the, butterfly kisses. “You're vibrating.”
“What? Oh,” I grab the phone from my pocket to see a text from Dino.
On Skype now
come online.
x
I groan internally, knowing he doesn't get Wi-Fi often, but not too keen about chatting to Dino whilst Ian is there. At least we usually sign over Skype because it's easier for him to read signing if the video signal breaks than it is to read lips.
“I have to talk to Dino,” I inform Ian apologetically, moving away from him to fetch my handbag.
I load the app up on my tablet and Dino is already ringing me. I wait for the camera to load and wave wildly, sitting on the sofa so I can place him on the coffee table and have both my hands free.
His handsome face beams back at me, his skin a shade darker than normal which I'm guessing means he's in Southern Italy.
“Hi, sister,” he signs, his face alight with excitement.
“Hi, D,” I mirror his expression, signing just the first letter of his name.
“How are you?”
“I'm good, you? You look happy,” I beam at the screen. We may not always get on, but it is nice to see him.
“Great!” He flails his arms wildly. His gestures are so big that I almost miss some of the movements as he moves off screen. He starts telling me all about his European adventures which seem to consist of mostly sleeping late and talking to strange people in strange places.
“Have you talked to Mum and Dad?” I interrupt him when I realise he has no plans to stop signing any time soon.
He cocks his head at me and signs “no.”
“You should,” my hands reply insistently.
“Why?”
“Mum has been poorly. I'm going to go and see her soon, and make sure she goes to the doctors,” I tell him with a sombre expression.
“What's wrong with her?” His face grows concerned.
“She's not been very well,” I inform him, conscious of the way in which E is hovering behind me.
“Who's that?” Dino grows suddenly suspicious.
“Steph and I have friends over,” I tell him, learning from E and dodging the question.
“Yeah, but who is that?” He doesn't relent.
“His name is E,” I explain irritably.
“E what?” He expects more letters.
“Just E,” I shake my head.
Dino doesn't look too impressed.
“Better looking than Stanley, I guess,” he shrugs after a few seconds of stillness. He may be playing it off like he doesn't care, but I can tell by the sharp, ungiving form of his signing that he doesn't seem happy.
“I'm an adult, Dino,” I remind him.
“Barely,” he laughs. He's a full one year older than me, but a good six inches taller which he is very proud of. “He looking after you?”
“We're just friends!” I insist, rolling my eyes.
“Sure,” he answers sarcastically. “Is he looking after you?”
“It's not like that!” I stress, glancing at Ian, clearly pictured in my own camera image.
“Do you like him?” He goads.
“No!” I fume. “Stop changing the subject!”
“From what?” He signs before folding his arms over his chest.
“You need to talk to the parents. They miss you,” I insist gently. Dino has been independent since he took his first steps, but I think he forgets that we need him even if he doesn't need us.
“Fine. You're such a nag!” He winks. “I gotta go, sis,” he apologises. “I'll call them.”
“Bye, D,” I wave sadly. I'm glad he's enjoying himself, but I wish he'd come home every now and then. It's been almost a year.
“You can tell you two are related,” E turns the tablet off for me before guiding me back to the breakfast bar.
“Your brother was hot,” Tamara chimes in, clearly she'd seen Dino as well.
Xander glares at her, but I don't really see why. He's with Steph, sort of. Maybe he's annoyed that a man with far too much hair, brown eyes, and olive skin is attractive to Tamara because that's everything Xander isn't.
“Tell him that yourself,” I chuckle.
“No hablo sign language,” she pouts.
“He can read lips,” I laugh. “You just wouldn't understand him because he doesn't like speaking out loud.”
“My dream man,” she swoons. “Is he single?”
I laugh. “I have no idea. Probably. He's a bit of a hippy.”
“He doesn't like me very much,” E smirks, taking a sip of the glass of water he's helped himself to.
I narrow my eyes. “How do you know that?”
“British Sign Language,” he signs back to me.
I blanch and try mentally running back through the conversation to figure out if I said anything I didn't want him to know. Shit. How was I supposed to know he spoke sign language too?
“How come?” I stammer, still not entirely sure whether I may have offended him.
He smirks. “Relax, Olivia.” He reaches over and squeezes my behind, affirming my conclusion that he is indeed an ass man. “You're not in trouble.”
“How come?” I repeat, slightly less worried. I don’t think I said anything bad anyway.
“My sister has something similar to selective mutism,” he shrugs. “When she won’t talk, she signs.”
“Oh,” I absorb this knowledge with curiosity. “How did she learn?”
“I taught her,” E narrows his eyes at my probing, but I like learning things about him. It makes me feel better about letting him fuck me at his whim.
“So, where did you learn?” I dare to ask one last question.
“I took a course so I could teach her,” he sighs irritably. “Are you done now?
I nod dutifully, my brain slowly filing this new information away. I know he doesn’t like opening up to me, but all these little details make it easier for me to accept our agreement. A man who would learn a whole new language to ensure he could communicate with a loved one is not a man I should be scared of.
He may pull off the whole intimidating, scary thing on occasion, but I’m starting to suspect that there’s a big heart at the root of it.
Chapter 22
Kev's cheerful voice greets me within seconds of me dialling his number.
“Hi Kev,” I reply warmly. “How are you?”
“All the better for hearing your voice,” he teases.
“Cheesy!” I announce. “I was thinking of going to see Mum on Saturday. Do you want to come?”
E can't do this weekend anyway. Apparently, he's working again, so I figured it was the best time to see Mum. I haven't mentioned to E that I'm going because it's none of his business what I do in my free time.
“I'm in. Are we going by train?”
I nod and then remember he can't see me. “Yeah, I'll book tickets.”
“Let me know how much I owe you,” he agrees. “We can have one of our movie nights when everyone has gone to bed.”
“Do I get to pick the movie?” I grin already knowing the answer.
“No. I pick,” he tells me cheekily.
I feign a sigh.
“I'll bring chocolate,” he compromises.
I ignore E's voice in my head telling me off for eating chocolate because I don’t want to relive the heated discussion we had on the matter the other night. I accused him of wanting me to lose weight and he backed off, telling me I’m perfect the way I am, but he wants me to improve my stamina. Bastard.
“Yes, please,” I beam to Kev because E will never know.
“Alright, it's a plan. Email me the details, please.”
“Great, I'll tell Mum. See you on Saturday.”
We hang up and I smile to myself. Mum still isn't feeling great and I've not been the best daughter. I've been in London almost two months and I haven't been up to see them at all. We used to go at least once a month when I was living in York with Stanley although I guess the journey is twice as long now.
“Who was that?” Steph startles me. I didn't realise she was still home. There was no noise coming from her room.
“Kev,” I answer, trying not to cringe because I shouldn't feel guilty for talking to one of my friends.
She humphs and folds her warms across her chest like a petulant child.
“Don't be like that, Steph,” I please. “You're both my friends. You're seeing Xander now. I didn't think it'd be a problem.”
“It's just sex with Xander, Olivia,” she snaps. “It doesn't erase eight years.”
I grit my teeth because my relationship with E is just sex and yet that was a problem for her when I had just broken up with Stanley.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask with a hint of exasperation. We're grownups; this shouldn't be an issue. I can't exactly invite Steph back to my Mum's; they don't really get along because Mum accused her of being a bad influence when we were younger.
She raises an eyebrow as if I'm asking a stupid question before turning on her heel and flouncing back to her room.
I rub my brow in frustration, already getting a headache.
“Stressed?” E's voice forces my eyes open.
“Do you ever knock?” I snap, startled by his stealth like appearance in my lounge.
He pulls me close and squeezes my behind with a little more pressure than is strictly necessary.
