As the evening wore on I got more and more jumpy though I hoped I hid it well, covering over my inner turmoil by—and I could barely believe it myself— socialising. Antisocial Kit Blackman, actually starting conversations with people he didn’t know to distract him from the one man he wanted. Needed. And it wasn’t half bad. I started off by using these fellow partygoers as a prop, and found out I had shit in common with them. An interest in this sport or that, an opinion on some politician or another. A liking for any random television show.
Fifteen minutes into a chat with an attractive blonde with a cleavage I’d have wanted to lose myself in if I’d been straight, I happened to glance across the room and catch Steven smiling at Tiffany about God knew what and my breath caught in my throat. It was only when his eyes met mine that I regained my ability to exhale and continue the conversation with Anna.
Bloody hell, Kit—what’s come over you? At a housewarming party, talking to people, remembering their names.
“Would I be wasting my time if I asked for your number?”
“I…” Startled, I widened my eyes and wondered if I’d heard her right. I took a swig of beer to calm my nerves, ever conscious of not drinking too fast. I wanted all my faculties intact for the conversation ahead of me, even if I had no idea of what I’d say.
“Or are you a friend of Steven’s?” Anna suggested, politely giving me an out.
“Um…” My face heated up and I gave a watery smile.
“Damn it. It’s always the good-looking ones. I should have known. Well-dressed. Sober. Gay. Still.” She shrugged, gave a playful, no-hard-feelings smile. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“I’m flattered and if I ever switch sides…”
“I’ll be first in line.”
The conversation petered out with no hard feelings on either side and in fact my fragile ego received something of a lift. I believed I may even have smiled to myself as Anna left to go and search for her friends before heading home.
“Kit Blackman, are you actually talking to people?” Gary leaned against the kitchen countertop and gave me the unfocused, glassy-eyed smile of the happily drunk.
“Screw you.”
“I’m not your type.”
“You’d be surprised, sugar.”
“Hey, I’m not that fucking drunk.” He stood up straight—or at least tried to—and wobbled a little. Actually, a lot. “Gemma just called a cab. Says I’m drunk, apparently, and we’ve got to go home for some mad monkey sex before I get brewer’s droop—”
“Jesus, Lacey.”
“Do you want to come? I mean—no, God. I’m not inviting you. Like I said, I’m not that drunk. I mean. Are you sharing our cab, or coming back later?”
I shook my head to rid it of the horrific images a pissed Gary had painted there, thinking Anna would have been a better bet. “I was gonna hang back. See if I can…”
“Sort things with Steven? Yeah, we thought it’d look good if you stayed. Me and Gemma, I mean. Least you guys aren’t at each other’s throats. Maybe other bits.”
“Shut up, Lacey. Don’t you have a home to go to?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. Don’t worry…”
Guests drifted away. Gary and Gemma jumped in that cab. Others said they’d walk each other home. Some called friends to ask for a lift, or to suggest a carpool. Those looks between Steven and I got more frequent, more lingering, less surreptitious. The fewer people there were around to witness this silent communication, the less chance there was of me making a fool of myself.
And it was only when Tiffany and her dual paramours were the only other people in the flat that I realised I didn’t care. I’d already fucked up beyond all recognition anyway.
Hopefully it wasn’t fucked up beyond all repair.
“And to think.” Tiffany flung an arm round Isaac’s shoulders. Or maybe it was Jason’s.
I was sober, but too close to the end of the night to care. Too close to Steven. “The police weren’t called this time.”
“Yeah.” Steven grinned. “We’re winning with tiger blood on that score.”
“Wait.” The only non-Kenton family member in the narrow hallway—Jason and Isaac, as harem members, still counted in that respect—I felt like a bit of an interloper but spoke up anyway. “The police weren’t called this time?”
“Yep.” Tiffany nodded, grinning widely. Pride shone out of every pore. Pride or shamelessness, one or the other. “Last time one of Steven’s mates got arrested. Oh, and my ex fell asleep on the pavement outside and woke up with glittery stars glued to his nuts.”
“Thank God we never let you have that housewarming you suggested back home—” I looked at Steven, biting my lip as I did so, wondering if any reference to us having lived together was not to be mentioned, but he shrugged, casual, nonchalant and effortlessly sexy—
No, Blackman. Don’t think like that.
But it was hard not to.
“Wait,” I said again. “Your ex. But I’ve just managed to wrap my head around these two…”
“Just as I wrap my legs around them most nights.” That shameless grin again. One couldn’t help but adore her.
Steven groaned. “I don’t wanna think about that.”
“Fine, fine.” She turned to me again. “See how protective he is? So sweet. So pukeworthy. But yeah. Darren was my ex before I met these two. No wonder. I mean, it’s bad enough falling asleep on the pavement outside, but to let someone glue glitter and paper stars to your nuts? Jeez.”
“I know I’m gonna regret asking this, but why was your friend arrested?” I asked Steven.
“He was the one who did the glu—”
“Okay, okay, I don’t wanna know. Forget I ever asked.”
Jason threw his head back and laughed. “Nice meeting you, Kit, but we’d better be off. Tiff, we’ll
