Page 119 of Not That Impossible

“Meanwhile, Verity, my wife of six hours, was putting the bridal car through the car wash at the garage, because you and Adam—we got you on CCTV—had covered it in shaving cream.”

I slunk lower in the cushions.

“Completely covered it. And then drew an ejaculating penis in the shaving cream on every window. It was graphic.”

Silence throbbed between us.

Eventually, I managed to croak out, “That certainly explains why you’ve always seemed to have a problem with me,” I said. “I did wonder.”

27

“Idon’t have a problem with you, Jasper. I never did. For most of the time I’ve known you, you were just my bratty cousin’s weird little friend.”

And the hits kept coming.

“Right up until you weren’t,” he continued. “That’s when the problem started. The person I have a problem with, by the way, is me.” Liam sat down beside me. “Okay. I’m going to lay it all out for you. Jasper, you have been a pain in my fucking arse from the moment I met you.”

“…I’m sorry?”

“You would have been my very first arrest, did you know that? My supervising officer told me not to be a dick, you were just kids, and to let you off with a caution.”

“Sorry again?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Not the point I’m making. When we met, you were a fourteen-year-old madly in love with Harry Styles—”

“That was Adam.”

“—and a child. You two were a pair of menaces.”

I sighed. “Yeah.”

“Then you grew up, and for some unknown reason, your innocent hero worship developed into a crush on me that was visible from space.”

Great. We were back to setting Jasper on fire with absolute mortification again.

“I used to get the piss taken out of me for it all the time. By my rugby mates. My work mates. Guys I grew up with. I hated it.”

“I can imagine.”

“Can you? You were a baby. I’m ten years older than you. I was a man before you hit puberty. It was embarrassing to have you mooning after me.”

“Oh my god,” I said in a broken voice, “stopit. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no. No, no.” Liam sounded horrified. He slung an arm around me and heaved a few times. “Holy shit, you weigh a ton. Get over here.”

“What are you trying to do?”

“Get you on my lap. Come on.” He grunted and hauled. Obviously, he couldn’t shift me.

“Don’t get a hernia or anything,” I said, and twisted. I swung a leg over him until I was straddling him awkwardly. “Like this?”

“Mm. Almost.” He got his hands on my arse, and slid me closer. “Better. Right. I’m really shit at this, by the way.”

“Me and my erection beg to differ, but whatever.”

“At explaining myself,” he said. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”

“Well fuck, please don’tevertry.”

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