Jock Royal (Jock Hard 4)

Watching him is hilarious—it’s obvious he’s doing his best to school his tone and his inflection as he chats with his mother, and he’s doing a fantastic job of it; he’s only cursed once that I could tell, and used the term piss, which seems just as offensive, especially if his mom is as stuffy as he’s made her sound.

I shift on the couch and pause his show so he doesn’t miss any of the good parts.

“You can watch it,” he whispers over to me. “Who am I talking to? That was my roommate.” Pause. “Yes, I have a boarder now. Did I forget to tell you?”

Ashley glances over and sticks his tongue out at me playfully as he teases his mother, pulling a face and crossing his eyes.

“Just today. We were watching the telly when you called.”

The telly.

Lord I love that so much.

“Her name is Georgia.” Pause. “Yes she’s a girl.” Ashley rolls his eyes and laughs. “No we’re not sharing a bedroom—this house you rented me has two bedrooms, remember?” Pause. “We met at a party and wound up in the same class.” Pause. “Business class. Yes, I’m studying.” Pause. “No I’m not dating anyone.” He’s quiet then as she speaks, glancing over at me as I watch him. “Yeah, she is.”

Yeah she is…

What.

Yeah SHE IS WHAT?

He’s talking about me now, I JUST KNOW IT. What are they SAYING?

Did his mom just ask if I’m cute?

Or pretty?

Or funny? What could she have asked him?!

“It’s not like that, Mum. Relax.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and glances at the screen. “It’s been fifteen minutes—don’t you have to go? You’ll be late.” Pause. “I love you too, Mum. Say hello to Dad and Jack.” He rolls his eyes toward the ceiling dramatically. “Yes, and Caroline too.” He covers the microphone with his hand and whispers, “But not really Caroline—she’s a tit.”

A tit?

What the hell kind of insult is that?

If I had been taking a sip of something—my water—this would have been the moment I spit it all out, spewing it onto the floor.

Ashley is funny, funnier than I’d thought he was.

He and his mom chat a few moments longer, a smile on his face the entire time, the dimple in his chin winking at me—mocking me, really—as only a dimple can.

How did I not notice he has one? The beard wasn’t that bushy.

When he disconnects the call and sets the phone back down, he chuckles. “Mum is doing a fitness bootcamp.”

I’d gathered that from my eavesdropping. “What time is it back home?”

“’Bout five? She’s up early. Normally she dozes until late morning.”

“Ooh la la.”

Ashley nods. “She’s quite the princess, but she’s got that empty nest.”

Sounds like she’s had an empty nest most of his life considering he was shipped off to boarding school, but I keep my mouth shut about it and the words to myself.

Besides, he seems well adjusted enough, and it seems like he and his mother have a great relationship. I don’t think this is the first time they’ve spoken in the past twelve hours or so that I’ve been moved in.

“How often do y’all talk?”

He considers this. “A few times a week. I think she’s lonely.” Ashley leans over and riffles a few carrots from the bag, popping one in his mouth. “My brother Jack lives in London and doesn’t go home often, and Dad works a load. It’s nice that she’s joined a gym and not just a charity club where they fundraise and it’s a group of one-uppers who only want to show off who has the most Botox.”

His chewing isn’t nearly as loud as my chewing, or maybe I’m just too self-conscious about it. Either way, there is no chance I’m jamming any more carrots in my mouth.

Not risking it.

Ask me a week from now and perhaps I’ll change my mind, but I didn’t sign up for this version of Ashley Dryden-Jones. I signed up for the hairy, sloppy version.

“Mum is lovely,” he adds, and my heart softens.

Mum is lovely.

Not sure what it is about that sentence, but if I were ice cream, I’d begin melting down the sides of the cone and into a puddle.

“How old is your brother? Do you only have the one?”

He nods. “Jack is younger and he’s already working for Dad during the summers whilst I stay here playin’ rugby. Not sure if he resents me just yet…I’ll know when I go back.” He chews on another carrot. “Are you close with your family?”

“Yes, I’m an only child so we’re close, but my parents aren’t the type to just swing by. Even when I was in the same state, they still rarely came and visited. They spend lots of time together.”

“Did you tell them you moved out of the dorm?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell them you’re living with a bloke?”