Before I have a chance to declare my intentions of tracking Jesse down and demanding some answers, he comes barging back into the toilets in a blind panic. I notice his eyes have cleared of the glaze as they land on me, his chest damp, his dirty blonde hair dark with sweat. I can feel Kate’s eyes passing between us as she assesses the situation.
He starts towards me and I make no attempt to stop him from doing what I know he’s going to do. He leans down, scoops me up into his arms and strides out of the toilets towards his office. He keeps his line of sight firmly forward as he walks with purpose, back through the summer room under the watchful eyes of some members, who are still floating around soaking up the spectacle. I’m aware of whispers and pointing as tears invade my eyes and start trailing down my cheeks. I’m in absolute agony, I feel sick to the stomach and my heart feels like it’s been sliced straight down the centre.
He kicks the door of his office shut and walks straight to the couch, lowering himself down on a wince. My stomach turns. His arms immerse me and his head falls straight into my neck. He is silent, holding me as close as he can get me, while I try and control myself, try to prevent the shakes that are attacking my body, but it’s not a battle I can win. My beautiful man has deep issues and just when I thought I was figuring him out, I’m hit with the worst kind of wake up call. I don’t know him at all and I certainly don’t understand him.
‘Please don’t cry.’ His muffled voice reaches my ringing ears. ‘It kills me.’
‘Why?’ I ask. It’s the only thing I can think to ask. It’s all I want to know. Why would he do this to himself?
‘I promised you I wouldn’t have a drink.’
What?
He got himself beaten rather than have a drink because he promised me he wouldn’t? Just when I thought I couldn’t be more stunned. ‘You wanted a drink?’
‘I wanted to block it out.’
‘Look at me.’ I demand, but he makes no attempt to lift his head from its secluded location. ‘Damn it, Jesse, look at me!’ I wriggle to try and get a grip of his head and pull it up, but he hisses in pain and I still immediately. ‘Three.’ I say calmly. I can’t believe I’m giving him the countdown, but I don’t know what else to do. I feel him tense under me, but he still doesn’t look. ‘Two.’
‘What happens on zero?’ he asks quietly.
‘I leave.’ I say calmly.
His head flies up and I whimper at the sight of him, his green eyes clouded, pain spilling out of them, his chin trembling. He gazes straight into my eyes. They are pleading silently to me. ‘Please, don’t.’
Any ounce of strength that was keeping me marginally together is shredded at the sight and sound of him. I fall apart completely as I clasp his face in my hands and put my lips on him, but I’m not close enough. I gingerly shift so that I’m astride his lap, and then pull him as close as I can get him, without hurting him. ‘Tell me what you were blocking out.’
‘Hurting you.’
‘I don’t understand.’ I’m beyond confused. Doesn’t he think that this is hurting me? ‘I would rather you had a drink.’
‘You wouldn’t.’ He says it on a slight laugh that sends a nervous twinge through me.
I pull back and search his eyes out. ‘I would rather face you with half a vodka distillery inside you than see what I just saw.’
He drops his head in shame. ‘Trust me Ava, you wouldn’t.’
‘Yes, I would.’ I affirm. There is no contest. ‘And trust you? Jesse, I feel sick with betrayal.’ I’ve not even thought about what I’m going to do to Sarah when I get my hands on her. A trample won’t cover it. She has marked my neurotic God and the more all of this sinks in, the angrier I’m getting.
I lift myself from his lap and bat him away when he tries to grasp me. ‘I’m not leaving.’ I say a bit too harshly. His panicked expression has me even madder.
I start pacing around his office, tapping my nail on my front tooth under the tense, anxious eyes of my challenging man, who just keeps delivering on fucking challenges. I’m struggling here. That was some serious sadistic shit. God, I thrashed a belt at him on the launch night of Lusso.
I lower myself to the sofa opposite him and rest my aching head in my palms. I can hear him repeatedly drawing breath, as if he wants to say something. I exhale wearily and massage my temples. ‘Is there anything else I need to know?’
‘Like what?’ he asks guardedly. I don’t appreciate it and how the hell would I know what? He’s knocked me for six with this place, his drinking, and now willingly being whipped. What else could there possibly be that could shock or anger me more than this?
‘I don’t know, you tell me. You said no more secrets, Jesse.’ I throw my arms up in annoyance. I want to comfort him desperately. Keeping myself away from him is hurting almost as much as bearing witness to his beating. ‘Why would I prefer this to drunken Jesse?’
He leans forward delicately on a clenched jaw, resting his elbows on his knees, rubbing his temples thoughtfully. ‘Drink and sex go hand in hand for me.’
‘What does that mean?’ My voice is high and edgy.
‘Ava, I inherited The Manor when I was twenty one. Can you imagine a young lad with this place and a whole lot of women ready and willing?’ He looks ashamed.
My mind starts racing. Oh, I can imagine all right and it’s no wonder the women were ready and willing. They still are. Look at him! ‘You mean the dabbling?’ I whisper. Do I want to know this?
He exhales. ‘Yes, the dabbling, but it’s all behind me.’ He sits forward on a wince. ‘Now, it’s all about you.’
‘You drank and dabbled?’
‘Yes, like I said, drink and sex go hand in hand. Please, come here.’ He reaches across the big table that’s positioned between the two sofas, but I pull back. His hand drops and he looks down at the floor. I still don’t understand, and it still doesn’t explain why he has just accepted a thrashing from Sarah.
‘So, you didn’t have a drink because you would have wanted to have sex?’ My forehead must look like a road map because I am thoroughly confused.
‘I don’t trust myself with alcohol, Ava.’
‘Because you think you will jump the nearest woman?’
He laughs nervously and runs his hands through his hair. ‘I don’t think so. I couldn’t do that to you.’
‘You don’t think so?’ I’m shocked.
‘It’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Ava. I drink too much, lose reason and women throw themselves at me willingly. You’ve seen it.’ He gives me an embarrassed smile.
I scoff. ‘You didn’t look very capable of anything last Friday!’ He was unconscious and yes, I have seen women throw themselves at him. It’s degrading!
‘Yeah, that’s not my normal level of intemperance, Ava. I was on a mind numbing mission.’ he says awkwardly. I suddenly feel awful.
‘So, you usually maintain a steady level of drinking and then have lots of sex with lots of willing women?’ I think I’m getting my head around this. ‘You’ve never had a drink when you’ve slept with me?’
He gets up and shifts the table so he can kneel in front of me and rest his hands on my thighs. He looks straight into my eyes. ‘No, Ava. I have never been under the influence of alcohol when I’ve had you. I don’t need it. Alcohol blocked things out for me, made me forget how hollow my life was. I didn’t give a fuck about any of the women I slept with, not one. And then you fell into my life and things changed completely. You brought me back to life, Ava. I never want to touch the drink because if I start, I might not stop and I never want to miss a moment with you.’
Tears start to prick at my eyes at his confession. He was a playboy who fucked about all over the place. I knew that. ‘Have you had sleepy sex with anyone else?’ I hold my breath. Of all the things to ask, I ask this?
He sighs heavily. ‘No.’
I narrow my eyes on him. ‘What about a sense fuck?’
‘Ava, no! I’ve never cared about anyone else enough to need or want to fuck any sense into them.’ He squeezes my thighs. ‘Only you.’
Okay, that bizarrely helps, but he still insists he’s not an alcoholic, which is utter madness. If you don’t drink because you can’t trust yourself, then there’s a problem and anyway, he could have been under the influence all this time. They say a good alcoholic hides it well. How the hell would I know? I think back to Thursday evening when I found him in his office with a bottle of vodka and another woman. Oh, this is bad news. Not only have I got the concern of him having a drink, I’ve also got to worry about what he does once he’s had one. This is rich! I can’t even have a business meeting with a male client without him dissolving on the spot, although Jesse’s meltdown with regards to Mikael seems to be warranted. But I’m not delusional enough to think that he wouldn’t trample my other male clients.
I push his hands away from my thighs and get up, leaving him crouched by the sofa looking lost. ‘So on Thursday in your office, are you telling me that if you had drank the vodka, I would’ve found you nailing Sarah on your desk, not just looking cosy with her on your desk?’ This is horrible.