Page 79 of That One Moment

He bites his lip and looks down at his black leather loafers. “Oliver.”

Everything in me stills and I wait for him to say he’s joking but when he looks back up, I see the conflict in his eyes.

“Oliver? How do you even know him?” Darius knew about our ‘arrangement’ but I never introduced them. I always kept my past and my present separate - until Jamie.

“Remember when you went to Devon a few months back? He showed up at your place when I was there feeding the cat. He was genuinely upset that you broke things off with him.”

My mind reels with this information, and I rub the back of my neck and turn away from my best friend.

“Nothing’s happened between us, if you’re wondering,” he says to my back. “We hang out sometimes and we talk. He’s a nice guy.”

Something akin to jealousy ripples in my chest and I clench my hands into fists, then release them before repeating the action. It’s not about Oliver, though. I never had romantic feelings for him, nor have I ever felt possessive of him in any way, but Darius is my best friend and he’s kept this from me for months.

Turning to face him again, I say, “Why didn’t you tell me when I got back? Why keep this from me?”

“Because I knew how you’d react. You’d tell me he was bad news and that I should stay away from him. And if you were to have told me that because you’d had feelings for the guy, I’d have backed off. But you told me so often that you didn’t.”

“He is bad news,” I retort. But when I try to think up all the reasons why, I only see myself in them and realise all too quickly that Oliver and I are not so unalike.

“I get that the relationship you had with him wasn’t the best. Maybe even a little toxic. But that’s not how things are with us. He’s sweet, and kind, and okay yes, he’s arrogant, and opinionated, and grumpy as fuck, but he’s also lonely and….”

“And you like him,” I interrupt as it dawns on me that the softness in his voice now is tinted with fondness.

“I like him. But you’re my best mate, and if you don’t want me to pursue anything with him, I won’t.” My knee jerk reaction is to tell him to cut the guy off, to forget all about him, but then I realise what a hypocrite that would make me. Why can’t Darius be with the guy I had a fling with if it makes him happy? I’m in love with my dead twin’s ex-boyfriend, I’m hardly in a position to judge.

“I don’t like it, but I’m not standing in your way. Jamie will absolutely hate that he’s coming tonight but, I’ll let you handle that.” I fling an arm over Darius’s shoulder and ruffle his hair with my free hand.

He responds by poking me in the mouth with the tip of his finger. “Did you know you get a goofy grin whenever you mention Jamie?” I snort. “I do not. I’m smiling at you.”

“Sure, whatever you say, lover boy.”

“One question left for the night and then we’ll tally up and see which table is the winner,” the quizmaster says from his spot at the front of the pub. This last one is a music question and is for ten points.”

Darius looks at Jamie and pushes the answer card and pencil towards him. “Music is your specialty, don’t let us down.”

“No pressure,” I say, leaning in and placing my hand on his knee.

“Pencils ready. For ten points, Rockstar David Howell Evans is better known by what name? And, for a bonus ten points, what band is he from?”

There’s murmuring throughout the pub, and at our table, the other two people in our team along with Oliver and Darius all stare at Jamie questioningly.

Jamie’s wearing that smug look of his that I want to kiss off his face as he writes down the answer.

“Who is it?” Darius asks in a whisper. So as not to give the answer to any eavesdropping participants, Jamie turns the paper to show us the answer which says, ‘The Edge, U2’. When Oliver pipes up that he doesn’t even know who that band is, my boyfriend shoots him a lethal look, not for the first time since he walked into the pub.

It’s surreal sitting here with him, Darius and Jamie and in a small way, I can see what Darius means. Oliver is gentle and soft spoken with him, totally different to the man I’ve known since high school. I’d use the word smitten if it didn’t sound so obscene for a guy who has never shown me an affectionate side in all the years we were hooking up.

We swap answer sheets with the table next to us, so no one can cheat, and then the quizmaster reads out the answers, and not surprisingly because we knew only one answer in the politics round, we don’t win.

“Ah fuck. Better luck next time, I guess,” Oliver says, tapping his credit card on the table. “Commiseration round on me!” There’s laughter at the table and as the music in the pub is turned back up now that the quiz is over, I adjust myself in my chair so I’m able to lean back enough for Jamie to wrap his arm around my waist, putting us into our favourite position. His lips find the sensitive spot under my ear and everything feels right.

“Is it wrong that I still really want to punch Oliver in the jaw for ever having touched you?” I twist my head to look back at Jamie.

“You’re jealous,” I state matter of factly. “You don’t need to be. He’s in the past.”

“I know. Still, I hate knowing he’s had his hands on you.” Jamie slides a hand down until it’s toying with the waistband of my jeans.

“So have you,” I say, my dick thickening behind the confines of my skinny jeans, pressing against the zipper because I made the choice to go commando.

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