‘It’s not his past, though, is it? He still owns the place.’
‘It’s his business.’
‘Oh, leave me alone, Kate.’ I spit. Her defending all of this is just pissing me off. She should be supporting me, not trying to justify Jesse’s misdemeanours.
I feel her weight lift from the bed on a sigh. ‘He’s still Jesse.’ she says as she leaves my bedroom, and me alone to mourn my loss.
I lay in silence trying to rid my head of all the inevitable thoughts. It’s no good. My brain is assaulted by flashbacks of the last few weeks. Of our first meeting when he floored me, the texts and the calls and then the stalking…and the sex. I flip myself onto my stomach, sinking my face into my pillow.
Kate’s words keep pin-balling around in my mind “he’s still Jesse”. Do I even know who Jesse is? All I know is a man who swept me up in his intensity and blindsided me with his physical being.
Another piece of the puzzle falls into place when I recall him telling me that he has no contact with his parents. They disowned him when his uncle died and Jesse refused to sell The Manor. It makes sense now. It had nothing to do with the inheritance or sharing the estate, and all to do with their twenty one year old son being left to run a super posh sex club. Of course they would be concerned, and probably highly pissed. Their disapproval of Jesse’s relationship with Carmichael is absolutely warranted. Christ, did Carmichael encourage Jesse to pursue that lifestyle? Jesse even said he was having the time of his life. What young man wouldn’t be in a house where anything goes? He really has had lots of practice. And there’s a distinct possibility that he really has never fucked a woman more than once – apart from me.
It doesn’t take Einstein to figure out why I was being chucked the evils by all of those women when I was at The Manor. They all want him. No, they all want him again.
He played it risky by taking me there, but when I think carefully, no one ever approached me – I was never alone, never free to roam. Did everyone know I was oblivious? Were they under instruction to keep quiet, to stay away? I must be a complete laughing stock. He really did go out of his way to keep me in the dark. How did he think he could get away with it? Sarah’s comment on leathers...I push my face into the pillow in complete despair.
‘Ava?’
I look up and see Sam stood in the doorway, looking as deflated as he was earlier. ‘He beat himself up on a daily basis trying to think of how he could tell you. I’ve never seen him like this before.’
‘You mean rejected?’ I say sarcastically. ‘No, I can’t imagine Jesse Ward did get many knock backs.’
‘No, I mean crazy about a woman.’
‘Oh, he’s crazy all right.’ I laugh.
Sam frowns, shaking his head. ‘Yes, crazy about you.’
‘No, Sam. Jesse is crazy about controlling and manipulating me.’
‘Do you mind?’ he asks, standing at the edge of my bed.
‘Help yourself.’ I grumble uncharitably.
He perches on the edge of the bed. I’ve never seen him so serious. ‘Ava, I’ve known Jesse for eight years. Not once have I seen him behave like this over a woman. He’s never had a relationship beyond sex, but you came along and it’s like he found purpose. He’s a different man, and while you might have been frustrated over his protectiveness, as a friend, I was happy to see him finally care so much to behave like that. Please, give him a chance.’
‘He wasn’t just protective, Sam.’ I say tiredly. Protectiveness is just the start of a long list of unreasonable ways.
‘He’s still Jesse.’ Sam repeats Kate’s words, looking at me pleadingly. ‘The Manor is a business. Yes, he mixed business with pleasure, but he had nothing else. It all changed when you fell into his life.’
‘I can’t wrap my head around all of this, Sam.’
He smiles, picking my hand up in his. ‘If you can tell me that you can walk away from him, no second thoughts or regrets, then I’ll shut up now and leave. If you can tell me that you don’t love him, I’ll walk away. But I don’t think you can. You’re shocked, I realise that. And yes, he has a history, but you can’t ignore the fact that he adores you, Ava. It’s written all over his face, expressed in everything he does. Please, give him a chance. He deserves a chance.’
Sam’s pleading speech on behalf of his friend sounds like it’s been well prepared and rehearsed. Maybe it has. They must have known I’d find out eventually. Can I get past this shit? I know I’m not doing myself any favours laying here, kicking my sorry arse around in circles. I’m trying to deal with something I just don’t understand and probably never will. He owns a sex club. This crap doesn’t feature into my idea of a normal, happy ever after. Could I ever trust him? He cares enough to behave like this? He adores me? Does adore equal love? I ignored all of Jesse’s pillow talk in the beginning. All of the “you’re mine” crap and his declaration of never letting me leave rubbish. He said the word love a lot, but not in the context I so desperately wanted to hear. “I love you in lace”, “I love sleepy sex with you”, “I love having you here”. Should I have looked further into all of it? Was he telling me what I wanted to hear but in a backwards way? He persistently sought reassurance from me that I would stay. If all he needed was comfort that I was staying put, then I did that plenty of times, didn’t I? I always told him I would stay. But I didn’t know about The Manor then. And now I do, and I’ve left.