Page 95 of For Real

Instead, I take the opportunity to buzz him, and he leans against the stonework, his fingers tightening on the stem of his glass.

God, I’m so fucking horny.

He idly puts an arm across my chest and draws me in to his body. It’s so nice, because we’re sort of nestled together in the window arch—me in front, Laurie holding me tight. Tight against his erection and his hard-beating heart.

He lowers his head like he’s kissing my cheek, but he’s actually whispering, “Behave, damn you,” all unsteady into my ear.

I wriggle. Because sadist. And Laurie’s arm turns vicelike.

Jasper’s eyes kind of skitter away from us, like he guesses a bit of what’s going on. Oops. I should probably stop.

Just in time. Because then we’re hailed, an American accent cutting way too easily across the roomful of politely murmuring Brits, and this man, dressed like Jasper but in this slapdash, careless way, all his layers out of control and his bow tie skew-whiff, comes bounding over.

Jasper’s whole face freezes into this awful sneer, but his eyes are kind of hot and desperate.

“Sherry.” Laurie sounds genuinely happy though. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hiiii!” The American hugs us. Both of us, since Laurie’s still not in any position to let me go. But that doesn’t stop the newcomer. He just enfolds us both in these huge monkey arms and squeezes, me stuck in the middle like I’m Baby Bear.

“Uh,” says Laurie, when we can all resume breathing, “this is Toby. Toby, this is Sheridan Hunter Fitzroy III.”

“It’s okay, laugh it up. And call me Sherry, all right?” He’s staring at me like he’s expecting something.

“Uh, okay.”

“So, you’re the new guy, huh? I’ve been dying to meet you!”

“Really?”

“Course! So, come on, Toby, tell me all about you!”

He kind of talks in exclamation marks, and he’s…he’s sort of the most golden person I’ve ever met. I think he’s crazy hot in this clean-cut, very square-jawed way, but he’s also kind of…y’know, the shiny, transparent coat you put over nail polish to stop it getting chipped or rubbing off. He’s like that, but all over. And there’s this generosity to him that’s scary because it’s like he really believes you’re the best person ever, and he’s madly thrilled to be with you. Except it just means that you feel like you’re going to disappoint him at any second because you’re not the best person ever. You’re just you.

Which is exactly my problem. “Um…uh…” I really don’t have a fucking clue what to say, or how to be interesting enough for him. “I’m just…”

“He’s Coal’s son.” That’s Jasper, out of nowhere.

I’m pissed he knows, even though it’s my own fault he knows, but at the same time, I’m kind of relieved because now I’m irrelevant again.

Sherry’s eyes go wide, so blue they’re dazzling. “Seriously? Oh my God. I love her. I saw White Ink in Tokyo. Stunning.”

I shrug. That’s always the best answer. But there’s also Laurie to lean into, and he cuddles me.

“What am I missing?” he asks.

Nothing is what I want to tell him, but then the president clinks on his glass, and I brace myself for some kind of speech, but we’re just being called in to dinner.

Jasper grabs and knocks back another glass of champagne. And then we go through a little door and onto—I am not fucking kidding—the roof. There’s a wooden walkway covered in chicken wire, and we all troop along it very carefully like a bunch of penguins. And all around us, the towers and walls glow in this pale and ghostly way against the night. It’s completely surreal, and I’m glad I only had one glass of champagne.

Sherry’s gone up ahead, so we go on either side of Jasper. He’s pretty steady on his feet, but it feels safer that way. He’s staring at Sherry’s back like he’s trying to burn a hole straight through him.

“How can you love him and be jealous of him?” I wasn’t actually intending to say that aloud, but apparently I do anyway.

And Jasper actually answers. “Because if I wasn’t…I’d be abject.”

That makes no sense to me.

We make our way down a twisty little staircase and through a teeny tiny door, and then we’re in another world. It’s not a massive room, but it’s seriously oak-panelled, with sort of flying buttresses across the ceiling and stained glass windows like in church. There’s lamps and candles on the tables, but that’s it, so it’s very close to being gloomy, but the light flickers and catches on all the silverware and makes it magical instead.

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