Page 5 of Lost In Someone

“You’re not going to make this easy for me.” It’s not a question.

“It’s not a matter of making it easy, Merrick. You know what you said was wrong. If you’ve come to apologise, then great. If you still want to make an issue of my reasons for being here, then tough shit. I don’t owe you an explanation.” Okaaay, I’m more pissed off with him than I thought.

He stares at me for a long moment, then nods. “You’re right. I have come to apologise. I hadn’t considered the similarity of our situations. I want you to stay. I want you to make your home here, to start your life over again.” He smiles softly, genuinely. “I wish I knew what had happened, but only so I could help.”

“I had sex with a man.” The words are out before I can stop them.

Merrick blinks a few times. He probably never expected to hear those words from me. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily in his throat. “Um, okay. Can we talk about it?”

“I suppose so. It’s out now. I doubt you’re going to forget it.” Maybe now is the time to tell him, to let him help untangle the turmoil in my head.

“How, why? I mean, when? Who with?” His confusion is comical, yet neither of us is laughing.

I push my plate of rapidly cooling dinner to the side. My appetite has vanished. The lump in my throat would make it impossible to swallow anything anyway. “How? I was at a leaving party for one of the trainers in a club. A gay club. This guy came up and asked me to dance. It went from there.” My cheeks are burning, not with embarrassment but with the memory of how hot kissing him was.

“It went from there? Christ, Brodie. In all the years I’ve known you and the number of gay bars we dragged you to, you’ve never accepted any of the advances from the gorgeous men. You were hit on a lot. What was so different about this one you fucked him?”

Goddammit. Why does he have to say it like that? His crude words make the night seedy, a blow-job-in-the-bathroom kind of experience. Not the life-changing, mind-blowing night it was. “I didn’t fuck him. He fucked me. Over and over and it was incredible. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

“What was his name? Did you see him again after that night?” Merrick pulls out the other chair at the little table and sits. He rests his elbows on the table and steeples his fingers. He’s going to have a lot to say about this. “Are you into men now too?”

“Calm down, Merrick. It was a hot hook-up. I didn’t stay the night, and I don’t know his name. It was a great experience. I’m not against dating men, but I don’t think it’s going to happen. I haven’t seen another who attracts me as much as he did. It did wake me up, though. I took a long look at my life and knew it was going nowhere. I worked too many hours, I stopped socialising and meeting up with friends, and I missed you. I was stuck in a rut and didn’t like it.”

“So you quit your job and came here,” Merrick says with a sad smile. “I am sorry for what I said, and thank you for telling me. I’m not going to say a word.”

“Thanks, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t mind. I had a great time, and it sparked something in me. I’m not ashamed of what I did or who I am. You’ve always been so out and proud, something I’ve admired in you. While I don’t need to shout anything out loud, I won’t hide either. Not that anyone has shown any interest in me. As open as this town is, it still isn’t overflowing with gay or bi men.”

Merrick snorts. “You’d be surprised, but I get it.” He assesses me through slightly narrowed eyes. I want to squirm under his scrutiny but stay still. “I’m not actually surprised, not deep down. You’ve always been open-minded. You can appreciate a good-looking man as much as a woman. If a label is necessary, which I don’t think it is, I’d put you as pansexual. Your attraction is to the person, not the gender. It suits you.”

“I’m not going to go there, Merrick. It was one night. The only thing I regret is leaving. I would’ve liked to know his name, to maybe get to see him again. He’s always on my mind.”

And isn’t that the truth?

“And rest. Well done. That was a tough one, but you did it. Give yourself a round of applause.” I clap with the group as they clap or high-five each other. It’s been six weeks since I started the classes, and they have grown week by week. This HIIT class now has ten members, including Stacey and Melanie.

“I think you hate me.” Stacey wipes the sweat from her shining face.

“But you feel good, right? Look how much stronger you’ve got.” I pat her shoulder.

“I should send you my clothing bill. I’ve gone down a size already.”

“Congratulations, and nice try.”

“Are you coming to the pub tomorrow?” Melanie joins us, retying her ponytail and wiping her face and neck.

“No, I’m going back to London for the weekend.” Friday nights have become a regular get-together at the pub, with Drew and Merrick coming along when they can get a sitter for Willow. This weekend I’m going home. I’ve got to decide what to do with my house. It’s not the first time I’ve been back, but it’s silly to be paying a mortgage on a property I’m no longer living in. I’ve got appointments with two estate agents for valuations. Merrick advised me to look up similar properties, and I was blown away, it’s staggering how much these houses are selling for.

I’d been lucky and bought it at a low price because it needed to be completely renovated. The inheritance from my frugal grandfather paid for the majority of it. He’d scrimped and saved and left me a tidy sum when I hit twenty-one. After his death, my parents moved into his large, imposing home.

I don’t need to decide to sell it now or hang on until I know what I want to do. If it looks like it will be easy to sell, I may do that. But we’re only a couple of weeks from Christmas, and I doubt anyone is looking at houses at this time of year.

The drive into London reminds me of why I wanted to leave. The motorway part was easy, even through Bristol, but now I’ve been stuck in traffic for nearly half an hour. The constant inching forward as other motorists try to squeeze me out or push in front at a junction is making me scream. Finally, I reach the narrow, cobbled street that leads to my home.

When I open the door, I sigh. It’s good to be back, surrounded by my belongings. The cottage in Calston Cove has everything I need, but it’s not mine. The table is covered with a layer of dust, which means I have some serious cleaning to do before the first appointment tomorrow. The chrome kitchen appliances are still gleaming, and the blue Moroccan tiles shine brightly. I take the stairs to the first floor and my bedroom, where the large bed takes centre stage. Such a shame it hasn’t seen much action lately. How would it have felt if we’d come back here that night? Would he have stayed the night? How would I feel to sleep in a bed with so many amazing memories? Would I be even more infatuated with him, or would it be too hard to sleep in it alone? It didn’t happen like that, so there’s no point in me dwelling on what could’ve been.

After dropping my bag on the bed, I head to the next floor. The glass wall and open eaves in the ceiling make it look a lot bigger than it is. The small outdoor space with its decked floor and rattan furniture is full of stories of nights with Merrick, Josh, and sometimes Trent, Josh’s brother.

But as much as I love my house, in the short time I’ve been in Calston Cove, I’ve fallen in love with the little seaside town.

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