Page 10 of There's No Us Without You
Do I havelooking for a relationshipstamped on my fucking forehead?
First Emerson, and now Merve.
I swear to god, I will ban the old bastard for life if he so much as breathes another word of this relationship bullshit.
Although, at his age, that probably wouldn’t be very long.
“I don’t know, old man,” I say, as I swipe a disinfectant wipe from the packet sitting on the stainless bench behind me. “Maybe when you learn to mind your business.” I narrow my eyes on him. “So... never.”
I shake my head, blowing out a deep, calming breath while running the wipe over the bar top for the tenth fucking time since I arrived this morning.
It should be clean enough to eat off at this point, but I’m scrambling, my need to keep my hands busy taking over everything else.
“Now, now.” Merve holds up a finger, signalling for me to wait for him to finish. “I bet you have all the women chasing after you,” he says, continuing with whatever bullshit he’s spewing. “They’re into those”—he flicks his hand towards me, referring to my arms—“tattoos, nowadays, aren’t they?”
Benny chuckles and shakes his head, giving Merve a little nudge with his shoulder. “Leave the boy alone. He’s young, he can play the field... or whatever it is the young people say these days.”
Merve scoffs and side-eyes Benny. “Well, for someone so young, Will here reminds me of an old man.” He holds his beer glass out, tipping the open end towards me. “You should be out there finding what you want, not here working all the time and looking after us old fools. If I could still use my dick, I’d be making love to as many women as I could.”
Benny chokes, beer flying from his mouth and splattering all over the bar in front of him. “You wish,” he says, snatching upsome paper napkins to the left. He dabs at the mess, shaking his head. “You’re as ugly as a hat full of arseholes. No self-respecting woman would touch you, let alone allow that shrivelled-up thing in your pants near them.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut. “Thanks for the visual I didn’t need,” I say. “And also, for your concern regarding my sex life, Merve. I’m glad it’s something you think about often.” I shake my head at the two men and go about folding the pile of clean hand towels I brought up from the basement earlier this morning.
“Yeah, yeah.” Merve waves a hand dismissively before throwing back the rest of his beer and setting the glass back on the bar. “When you’re my age, you’ll wish you listened to me.”
“Lucky for me, you’ll have carked it by then, so you’ll never know.” I throw Benny a wink when he grins at me.
Merve squints, his eyes darting between his buddy and me, a scowl on his face. “What happened to respecting your elders?”
I point at him with the hand towel I’m clutching. “Respect is earned. And you, my friend, seem to have forgotten your manners.”
He only waves me off again, which tells me he’s had enough of my shit. If he doesn’t want to deal with it, he should learn to keep his mouth shut.
Although, if I’m being honest, they’re the closest thing I have to father figures.
But talking about sex with them is something I definitely don’t want to do. I’m satisfied with the arrangements I have. It’s easier that way. Everyone knows where they stand, and then when our arrangement has run its course, we move on.
The thing is, it’s been a couple of months since anyone has piqued my interest. There’s a reason for that, though—the one I want is off limits.
When Wren and Koby left the country to do some travelling with their girls three years ago, Emerson and I moved in together. We’ve had our share of partners, but mostly it’s just been me and him.
When he had to get all introspective last night and dribble garbage, it had me worried that the tackle he took at the game hurt more than just his body. His brain was also somehow damaged.
But my feelings for him will stay buried. I’ll keep shoving them into the small space at the back of my mind, the one that once had hope for something other than pain.
My preference to keep others emotionally as far away as possible is my number one priority.
No attachments or feelings. No miscommunication where one person says something confusing, and the other misinterprets it and it ends in a breakup.
No fucking thank you.
I learnt my lesson the hard way when I thought I could have more, and it backfired on my dumb arse.
Maybe that’s why I’m in a bad mood most of the time.
I’m never truly satisfied.
Wait, no. That’s not true. I’ve been in a bad mood most of my life. It’s just the extent that fluctuates.
