Page 90 of Something Borrowed

The seaside gravelled track is a little rough, but it’s bordered by a sturdy, low fence painted with a bright yellow line. Stan is handling it easily, conquering the track’s steepness without any shortness of breath. In fact, I’m the one breathing like a Hoover on its last legs. I make a mental note to leave off the cake samples when we get home.

“Really?” the girl asks from beside me. “Is he with Captain Hottie then?”

“Who?”

She nods at Chris. “We’ve been speculating all week who would be his type.”

I grit my teeth. “Well, Stan’sdefinitelyhis type.”

“They look really good,” she says, her gaze on Chris and Stan. Chris has his hand on Stan’s arm as they continue to talk. “Like they belong together.”

I lick my lips and offer her one of my professional smiles. “How are you enjoying your holiday?” I ask, knowing that one of life’s certainties holds true. Most people would far rather talk about themselves than anything else.

She starts to tell me about the last holiday she and her friend took, and I offer up automatic responses as my mind occupies itself with its usual thoughts of Stan.

It makes sense I never liked Chris, because I never liked any of Stan’s men. A bitter flavour fills my mouth as I acknowledge what my subconscious has been shouting all these years. I can’t bear Stan’s boyfriends, because I want him for myself.

I startle as I realise the girl is now discussing a sexual encounter she had with twins at a club. “Lovely,” I say politely and go back to my thoughts.

Of course, I’ve always wanted for Stan to be happy. I want his happiness more than I want my own. But what would happen if Stan and Bennett split up? I’d never stand between them—that’s not me—but if Stan were suddenly free again, could I tell him that I love him?

Sweat tracks down my neck and back as we continue to trudge upward.

What if Stan doesn’t love me back? Oh, I know he loves me, but it’s as a best friend, which is no longer the way I want or need. If I admitted my feelings for him and he didn’t feel the same way, he’d be kind, but then a distance would grow between us. In the end, we’d drift apart, and one day, we’d be nothing more than strangers who’d occasionally meet on a holiday or in passing. Like him and Chris.

So, I could confess my feelings for Stan and still lose him.Great. Having feelings is fucking shit.

My companion’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “And then we fucked in a toilet cubicle, and my foot went down the pan.”

“That’s great,” I offer and then quickly return to my feverish thoughts.

We stop at a table by the side of the path that’s manned by one of the hotel staff. The guide hands out bottles of water and sliced fruit, and I take mine with a smile of thanks, my partnerstill talking avidly about the logistical difficulties of fucking twins. I don’t know why it’s such a palaver. I did it once, and it was a decidedly subpar experience.

I settle my hips against the small fence, stretching my legs out and feeling the sun beating on my head. It’s still hot, but there’s a constant breeze from the sea, and the late afternoon light touches everything with gold. Beside us is the vast expanse of the sea moving restlessly as it churns over the rocks below.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Chris stands before me, indicating the fence to my side.

“It’s not mine,” I say levelly. “Do help yourself.” I look around. “Where’s Stan?”

“He’s talking to the two girls.”

“Oh dear. He’s about to become a lot more sexually informed.”

Chris sits beside me, and there’s a peaceful silence as we watch the ocean.

Unfortunately, he stirs and breaks it and says, “I don’t like you.”

I choke on the sip of the drink I’ve just taken. “You don’t say.”

“You knew.”

“I did. I just never knew why.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Come off it.” He leans closer and I resist the impulse to push his face away. Frowning suddenly, he says, “You really don’t.”

“I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m a bit too free and fabulous for that, but I never could figure out why you hated me at first sight.”

“You’re a bit too full of shit.”

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