He grinned. ‘You’re wrong on all counts. I come here with my brothers, and only because the food is amazing. You know I’m not the kind of guy who bothers to date.’
His words are said light-heartedly but they set off a reaction inside of me; something shifts in a way that is unpleasant, but I’ve no idea why.
The waitress appears, bopping along to the music that’s playing over the speakers. ‘Can I get you something to drink?’
He turns to me. ‘Beer? Wine?’
‘Whatever you’re having. I don’t mind.’
He orders a couple of beers and tells the waitress just to bring the chef’s selection. I don’t think either of us really cares what we eat or drink. We’re both seeing this as what it is: preamble. If anything, it’s delaying what I really want, which is to get him back into bed as soon as possible. At the same time, there’s a sinking sense of inevitability to this, a curiosity and a secret pleasure that comes from sitting across the table from him, preparing to share a meal.
‘So you’re close to your brothers?’ I ask once the waitress has brought the beers and left us alone again.
There’s the slightest hesitation before he nods. ‘Yeah.’
‘Are you the oldest?’
‘Nah, youngest.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Yeah, why?’
‘You just seem... I don’t know. I guess you seem like a big brother.’
‘What does a big brother seem like?’
‘Authoritative. Confident. Always in control.’
He hooks his eyes to mine. ‘I don’t think I’m always in control, Asha. In fact, I have a habit of losing control completely where you’re concerned.’
Pleasure bursts through me. ‘I like that,’ I admit.
‘I’m glad.’
I sip my beer.
‘Jagger’s the oldest—the one who’s getting married in a few weeks.’ He lifts his own beer, wrapping two fingers and his thumb around the neck and lifting it to his lips. His Adam’s apple shifts as he swallows. ‘Holden’s three months younger than Jagger.’
My eyes flare wider. ‘How is that...? So he’s...’
Theo places the beer back on the table and moves it around a little, watching the trail of liquid that moves in its wake.
‘The by-product of an affair.’ His words are clipped and I wonder what he’s not saying—I’m sure there’s something. Curious, I lean forward without realising I’m doing it.
‘Did your mom walk out?’
‘Not my mom,’ he corrects. ‘We all have a different mom, actually.’ He lifts his shoulders. ‘But yeah, it pretty much ended their marriage. I mean, Holden’s living proof of Dad’s inability to keep it in his pants so I’d say the writing was on the wall from the moment he turned up.’
‘Wow.’
‘Yeah.’
‘How old was he, when he came to live with you guys?’
‘Just a kid still.’ He clears his throat and reaches for his beer, rocking it from one hand to the other. There’s a sixth sense that keeps me quiet, and my instincts are rewarded when he leans forward a little.
‘The thing is, we found out a year ago that he wasn’t even my dad’s.’