Page 29 of Charlie Sunshine
“What’s the point in being enigmatic when I could write it across the sky and neither you nor Misha would recognise the truth?” I look blankly at him and he shakes his head, his mouth pursed in irritation. “I suppose you’re partially right. I went out with you because I likedyour looks and you’re great company when you’re okay. But I have to admit that I did get some enjoyment from rubbing Misha’s face in it a bit. He gets everything he wants—men, work, everything. It’s all so easy for him. He even has you running to him for everything you need. Any problem you have, you go to him. Any triumph, and he’s the first person you share it with. I got the one thing he couldn’t have in my bed. It added a little frisson to the proceedings.”
I hide my flinch. “It’s nothing to do with the size of your little frisson, Harry. It’s what you do with it that counts,” I say coolly.
He laughs, but there’s little amusement in the sound. “It’s that sense of humour that’s so attractive about you, Charlie. Pity you don’t live up to your shop front. Someone really should let people know that all those good looks of yours are just false advertising.”
“Tell it to trading standards,” I say coldly. “I’ll get another room.”
“Don’t bother. I doubt I’ll be back to stay here anyway. There are plenty of other men in Brighton. You’re not the only one.” He looks hard at me. “Stay here. It doesn’t mean anything to me. But you keep this conversation to yourself. I’m not having my fucking business being gossiped about over the weekend, particularly not by that wanker Misha. I’ll see you later.”
“Oh no. How on earth will I count down the time until I’m reunited with your amazing company?”
“You’re just like Misha,” he says sourly. “Entirely too flippant. The two of you deserve each other.”
The door slams shut behind him, and I stand there bewildered for a second. I’ve never had to be the one to break up a relationship before. In the past, they’ve come to a mutual end, and I’ve stayed friends with most of my exes. There’s always been this vague worry when the relationships ended that I was making a mistake. I’ve never actually experienced trying to break up with someone who was reinforcing that desire with every syllable he uttered.
I huff and grab my jacket. I’m going for a walk along the seafront to clear my head.
Misha finds me half an hour later sitting on the beach looking out to sea. It’s wild tonight, frothing and roiling onto the shingle, as if it’s cross that it can’t take the beach over.
“You’re fucking nuts,” Misha observes baldly, his long legs folding under him so he can sit next to me.
“And you came to that observation how?”
“It’s fucking freezing out here, and you’re sitting in just a thin jacket. Not to mention the fact that you’re sitting on fucking pebbles.”
“It’s fine,” I say, shifting position and only now registering my arse’s displeasure.
He throws something over my shoulders. It’s a very soft violet-coloured blanket.
“Where did this come from?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Pinched it from the hotel patio. They’ve got heaters there and these blankets.” He shoots me a jaundiced stare. “And virgin Irish coffees with loads of whipped cream. But then why would you want that when it’s so pleasant sitting on damp rocks?”
“Misha, you really are a baby,” I say peaceably. “They’re pebbles, not boulders, and it’s not that cold.”
“Of course not, and you’re pulling that throw around you like it’s Jason Momoa simply because it’s got a nice thread count?”
“Don’t taunt me with Jason,” I say solemnly. “It’s cruel.”
Misha laughs and looks at me closely. I’m not sure what he sees in the dim light, but he immediately throws his arm around me and hugs me.
“I’m not saying anything about Harry,” he says, and I huff out a laugh. “I’mnot,” he says indignantly. “I’m just positing a hypothesis that if he behaves like an arsehole this weekend, I will punch his lights out. Ah no,” he says as I open my mouth to object. “No commenting on my hypothesis.”
I almost tell him what happened with Harry earlier but change my mind. There would be drama, and that’s not fair at Jamie’s birthday celebrations. “Saying the word hypothesis constantly doesn’t make you brainy,” I say solemnly.
He laughs. Then his smile dies. “I’m also saying that whatever happens, I am here for you, and that will never change.”
“Never?”
“Never,” he says firmly, and I nestle into his warmth.
My mind strays to what Harry said. There was a smidgeon of truthin his analysis of my relationship with Misha, and it jabs. Misha and Idorely on each other, sometimes to the exclusion of others. We always have done. He’s the first person I turn to with anything, and he’s the same with me.
Misha’s my best friend and the best part of my life. But that also means trouble, because I want a relationship with a man someday. A true partnership like my dad has with Aidan and Jesse has with Zeb. I want someone to laugh with and talk to late at night. I want someone to snuggle up to on a cold night and someone safe enough to have rows with.
But I need to come to terms with the fact that if I’m to have a successful relationship, I have to let go of some of my closeness with Misha. I have to replace him with the faceless man of my dreams.
I sigh silently as I rest my head on his shoulder, and we look out to sea. The trouble is that I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to lose Misha. Which leaves me where? I roll my eyes. A mess as usual.
