He didn’t believe I wanted him. That was the problem. He thought I was tagging along on his adventure from a selfish desire not to lose my valet.
It still stung like a bastard that he could misunderstand me so badly, but I could be patient.
It wasn’t like I had a choice.
When I arrived in the dining car, I was taken to a table for two. The uniformed server removed the extra place setting with a sympathetic frown—just in case I hadn’t felt pathetically lonely already, thanks very much—and I was halfway through my first martini when Jon walked past my table to the one ahead of mine.
I couldn’t help but drink in the sight of him, something I’d consciously tried not to do in the past. I hadn’t wanted Jon to feeluncomfortable, to see my longing for him and be unable to return it. In fact, I’d made a conscious effort not to speak to him much at all of late, to distract myself with other things and people as much as I could. I hadn’t wanted to give him a reason to leave.
See how well that’s worked out?
The server who sat him went through the same place setting removal and welcome spiel, leaving him sitting directly in front of me. Also alone.
“This is ridiculous,” I told his broad back. “Come sit with me.”
Jon’s body stiffened until his shoulders were by his ears. “No.”
“We’ve shared a thousand meals together.” A thousand easy conversations where we’d talked each other’s ears off, losing time telling each other stories or asking each other challenging questions about life and the world. “Why not one more?”
He stretched his head from side to side without responding.
“You know, Banks… I can help you with that tension problem of yours,” I said, unable to help myself. Wanting to get under his skin the way he currentlylivedunder mine. “Anytime. Just knock on my door. Day or night.”
He didn’t reply. Meanwhile, my words conjured a vision in my head, and I knew I’d be up all night wondering how easy it would be to break the lock on Jon’s door and slide into bed beside him.
“Great, now you’re a creep,” I muttered to myself.
I took another healthy swig of the martini and wondered how long it would take for the server to bring the bottle of wine I’d ordered.
“If only I’d brought my phone,” I said a bit louder. “If only a certain arsehole hadn’t trained me that it was bad manners to bring my phone to dinner.”
“Live in the moment,” Jon had said. “Be present.” But I didn’t want to live in this moment if I couldn’t talk to him or see his face.
“Wonder what that arsehole would say,” I mused, “about the etiquette of not responding when someone is speaking to you.”
Jon sipped his water calmly, and the bubbling cauldron of want and need in my gut threatened to boil over.
“Fuck this.” I threw my napkin on the plate and shoved my chair back. I’d ask the server to send my dinner to my suite instead.
“Oh, for god’s sake, Iggy,” Jon said, turning around at last. “Come sit here, then, if you’re going to be an idiot about it.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to fuck off and take his prim, judgmental attitude with him. But I was too desperate for his company. I was willing to beg for scraps.
I grabbed my place setting and moved to his table. “What a lovely invitation. Don’t mind if I do.”
He glared at me. “The condition of you sitting here is to stop this spoiled-brat routine. Understand?”
And now we were back to him being my guardian rather than my friend? “Yes,sir.”
Jon’s eyes roved over my face. “You haven’t been sleeping,” he accused. “Christ, Iggy, you know a night at home once in a while wouldn’t—” He shook his head once. “Why are you here?”
It took me a moment to find my voice.Jon cared.I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed that confirmation. “At your table? You invited me.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he did what he always did when he was unhappy with me. He waited me out until I started incriminating myself.
“I told you, I didn’t know you’d be here,” I began, dropping the fake cheer and sarcasm because it was exhausting. “Truly. I came because I remembered you talking about this train, and I…” I twisted my tongue inside my mouth, forcing it to say the words. “I wanted to be close to you. I missed you.Notthe valeting. Not the managing.You,Jon.And I don’t know how I fucked things up or what I did to make you leave, but if you’ll come back with me, I’ll do anything?—”
“Anything?” Jon looked down at the fork he was fiddling with. “Then tell me, why haven’t you had a serious relationship before?”
