And Cal is still looking at me. And somewhere between the fucking, and Cal, and my thoughts, it all gets too much for me. I can’t stand here while he laughs at me, while they all laugh at me, because I’m not that comfortable with sex and every time I try it I get it wrong. I am different to other women. There’s no point denying it. I just have to accept it. But god, it makes me feel like something is breaking inside me.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, as I shove my way past him on legs that feel like they’re made of rubber.
He catches my arm. ‘What for?’
His eyes are dark, so very dark, so very amused, and I decide that now would be a good time to die. But I don’t. I just keep right on living, right on through the humiliation. Why did I come here? Why did I think it would be a good idea? I’ve ended up more embarrassed, not less.
So I drop my gaze, and when I tug my arm free from his grip, he lets go. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say again, only this time I don’t know whether I’m saying it to him or to myself. And then I rush out of the room, out into the bright glare of the party, and stumble my way towards the front door.
The gravelled driveway crunches beneath my feet as I make my way along it, clutching the sides of my jacket together with one hand. I don’t really understand what just happened in there, apart from the fact that Cal’s infamous sex parties aren’t rumour, they’re true. He was so comfortable with it, so confident, able to stand there and watch and enjoy it. Me, I ran away.
I’m still not sure how I feel about what I saw. I’m not sure how I want to feel about it. I should feel shocked and disgusted, I know, but hard as I try, I can’t seem to make myself. I have an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach, one I’m trying not to examine too closely, because if I do I suspect I might discover that it’s regret.
I stumble a little on the gravel, but right myself before I can fall. More people are making their way along the street towards the house. I can hear their inebriated voices, the laughter that’s a shade too loud, and I drop my gaze in that way cats do, like they can make themselves invisible if they don’t look at you. Given the way this evening is going, I shouldn’t be surprised when they stop. When one of them calls to me. ‘Verity!’
Fantastic. Just fantastic. What better way to end this than by running into my ex? ‘Hello, Will,’ I say. And that’s all I say. I don’t say any of the things that are swirling round in my head, like thanks for ruining my life, you bastard, or trash anyone else online lately?
‘What are you doing here?’ he asks.
‘What?’
‘I wouldn’t have thought a party at Cal Bailey’s house was your sort of thing,’ he smirks. ‘Actually, I wouldn’t have thought you’d get an invite. Is that why you’re leaving so early? Did you get kicked out?’
He’s so smug, standing there in his rugby shirt and on-trend jeans, making me feel even more hideous. I’m desperate to say something cutting, but I can’t seem to find the words.
But someone else does. And that someone is Cal. He moves in beside me, close to me, close enough for me to catch the faintest trace of his aftershave. ‘Hello, Will,’ he says.
‘Cal.’ Will grins at him, and that grin makes me feel sick. ‘I heard you’re throwing a party tonight.’
‘Nope,’ Cal replies. ‘Not tonight.’
I stare up at him in disbelief. All the lights in the house are on and music is blaring through the open front door.
I see Will look up at the house. His brow creases, his mouth opening as if he wants to say something, but he isn’t quite sure what. ‘Sounds like a party,’ he says. There’s an odd tone of desperation in his voice, as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocks back on his heels.
‘Just having a few friends over for drinks,’ Cal says. ‘Nothing major. I’d invite you in, but we’re keeping it low-key, you know.’
‘Yeah,’ Will replies. ‘Sure.’
Then he looks at me. I feel every muscle in my body go tense, feel the ring of steel that forms around my head every time I so much as think about what he did start to tighten. And all the while, Cal is stood next to me, smelling all spicy and masculine, and knowing too much. God, this is humiliating. ‘Right,’ I say, my voice all squeaky. ‘I’ll just be going then.’
‘I’ll walk you home,’ Cal says. He slings an arm over my shoulders. A heavy, strong arm that pulls me close into his body, which is both hot and hard, though his jumper is beautifully soft and clearly cashmere. ‘See you around, Will.’
The movement of his big body propels me forward. When I stumble, he moves his arm from my shoulders to my waist, keeping me upright, keeping me going. I can feel Will’s gaze burning into my back.
When we reach the end of the street, I swallow down the lump in my throat and force myself to speak. ‘You don’t have to walk me home,’ I manage. I can’t be near him, not right now. Not when my head is such a mess of emotions, and my mind keeps playing that scene back at the house over and over. Not when it’s putting me and Cal on that sofa, doing unspeakable things to each other as strangers watch from the shadows.
‘I know,’ he says. ‘But I’m going to anyway.’
‘Really,’ I tell him. ‘It’s fine. I don’t live far.’
‘I could do with the fresh air,’ he replies.
‘What about your guests?’
‘I think they can manage to get drunk and fuck without me.’
I don’t know what to say to that. I mean seriously. Is there a response? Maybe there is, if you’re one of those sophisticated, witty women, the kind that lives the Cosmo lifestyle and wears Louboutin’s and has a special drawer just for sex toys. But I’m not one of those women, not even close. I’m the kind who wears brogues and vintage dresses because Topshop scares the hell out of me. I’m the kind who has sex under the covers with the lights off and then lies there afterwards, wondering why she can’t enjoy it.
We walk on in the dark until we reach my front door. I fumble in my bag for my keys, find them right at the bottom, buried under all the detritus, the chewing gum wrappers and lip balm and pens. ‘So,’ I say brightly, nervously. ‘This is me. Thanks for walking me home.’
I turn, try to put the key in the lock, but my hands are shaking and I can’t do it. I just can’t do it. I feel like the air is pushing down on me, like the world is closing in, like I’m standing on the edge of a major disaster. One wrong step and I’ll tumble into it, head first.
Cal is stood right behind me, and I have to get rid of him, but I can’t even get the bloody key in the door. I can feel hot tears pricking at the back of my eyes, and I blink hard and fast, trying to hold them in. I want to enjoy sex, I think to myself. I want to enjoy it, like those women back at his house. But I don’t know how.
‘Here,’ Cal says, reaching past me. ‘Let me.’ He takes my key, slides it easily
