Quiet Longing (Quiet Love #2)

5.

Rhys

My face fucking hurt .

I was about to start the evening shift, and I just hoped no one noticed the dark bruise shading my jaw. The kitchen was usually so busy few people had time to look my way. Maybe I could get through it without anyone asking questions. The only problem was going back to my aunt and uncle’s house later tonight. One of them was sure to notice, and then I’d have to explain how I was stupid enough to go see my dad.

I stood in the empty staff room at the hotel, shoving a backpack full of clothes into my locker. It barely fit. I’d grabbed as much as I could from my bedroom while Dad shouted and threatened, calling me every ugly name under the sun.

He’d been waiting in the kitchen when I’d gotten home.

In the two days since we’d left, dirty dishes had piled up in the sink, and the bins were overflowing. I’d managed to ignore his calls for the past two days, but he’d threatened to make a missing person’s report on Mam if I didn’t get her to come home. I had no intention of doing that, and I needed to set him straight. Make him understand things weren’t going back to how they were.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he’d grunted when I’d stepped into the room. “And where’s your mother?”

“She’s somewhere safe, but that’s none of your business anymore.”

He’d given a cruel laugh. “Oh, you think you’re the big man now, do ya, Rhys? Any differences between your mam and me are between us. You’re a child playing grown-up. It’s not your place to get involved.”

“I won’t stand by and let you hurt her anymore. That ends now,” I’d said, planting my feet firmly on the floor and folding my arms.

A second later, he’d been in front of me, gripping my shirt as he’d slammed me back against the wall.

I pulled myself from the memory, hating how I’d become a kid again, letting him hit me. Why hadn’t I fought back? I felt weak. All I wanted to do was keep Mam safe from him, and I was barely succeeding at that.

I forced my mind back to earlier in the day when I’d been sitting on the beach with Charli, my palm on the warm, smooth skin of her back. The way her breath had hitched when I’d touched her. I’d never caused that sort of reaction in someone before. I could still smell the coconut sunscreen. It was my new favourite scent.

I was a few hours into my shift when I bumped into Derek and Tristan’s dad, Padraig. He was someone I looked up to. I wanted to be like Padraig Balfe when I was older. I wanted enough money and success so pricks like my dad couldn’t touch me anymore. I wanted safety and a nice life for Mam.

“Rhys,” Padraig said with a note of concern. “Come with me a minute. I’d like a word.”

Knowing there was no point arguing, I nodded and followed him, finally reaching a small office close to the reception lobby. He stepped inside and motioned for me to come in before he closed the door. I stood, waiting, as he went to lean against the edge of the desk, turning to me and folding his arms.

I had a fair idea what he wanted to talk about, which was confirmed when he motioned to my face. “Care to tell me where that came from?”

Instinctively, my hand went to the bruise, an unwelcome reminder of my dad’s fist colliding with my jaw only a few hours ago.

“Just an accident,” I replied quietly.

Again, he stared at me. “A little accident prone, are you?”

I blinked at him. “Pardon?”

Padraig sighed. “I went to school with your dad, you know. He was a bollocks back then, too.”

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“He came around here this morning looking for you,” he went on, cutting me off, and my blood ran cold. “Pissed drunk and shouting the odds, asking where you were hiding your mother. I take it she’s left him, then? For good this time, I hope.”

All my energy to pretend things were fine and normal deflated, and I slumped down onto a seat. Glancing up at Padraig, I replied, “It’s been a long time coming.”

“Yes, it has,” he agreed, and a weighted silence fell between us.

I wondered just how long he’d suspected something wasn’t right in my home life. I’d spent so much time at his house with Derek and Tristan, and he’d never complained, never once told his sons their friend was overstaying his welcome. I hadn’t even realised it, but the Balfe house was my sanctuary. It was a place I knew I could always go when I had nowhere else.

“I won’t pry for details because I suspect you won’t part with them even if I do. I presume your mother is somewhere safe?”

I nodded. “She’s with her sister in Phibsborough. I’m staying there, too, until we can figure something out.”

“That’s a bit of a commute going there and back for your shifts. Why don’t you stay at ours for a couple weeks? You can bunk up with Derek, and it’ll give your mam a break, some time to think about her next steps.”

My eyes widened because living at his house for a few weeks was a very generous offer. It would be better than being at my aunt and uncle’s, with the two of them looking at me like I was a poor little kid who’d been beaten on. I didn’t need to be reminded. I needed not to think about it for a while, and the idea of staying at the Balfes’ made me feel like I could breathe again. I was weary and exhausted down to my bones, and a break away from things might be exactly what I needed.

Another thought dominated my brain, though, because staying with the Balfes would also mean living under the same roof as Charli.

I’d only just met her, but she was the one person who could simply look at me, and for however long that look lasted, I forgot about my problems. All the reasons for my weariness disappeared, even if only for a moment.

“Yeah,” I finally answered past a stuttering breath. “I’d like that. I’ll run it by my mam, but I’m sure she’ll be okay with it.”

Padraig eyed me a moment, running a hand over his clean shaven jaw, then said, “You know, it might be a good idea to talk to Derek about what’s going on. Keeping things locked up isn’t always good for us, and speaking to a friend can help. My son is a good listener. He’s always been a very smart, emotionally intelligent lad, and—”

“I can’t,” I blurted. I hadn’t intended to interrupt him. It just came out. But the idea of talking to Derek, to anyone, really, made me feel like there was a clamp tightening around my gut. I didn’t want people looking at me like Aunt Claire and Uncle Eugene did. And now, Padraig. Keeping the number of people who knew the truth to a minimum felt like the best possible option. Besides, Derek might’ve been emotionally intelligent, but that didn’t mean he’d understand what I was going through. Compared to me, he’d lived a charmed life and I didn’t want him pitying me or feeling sorry for me. I just wanted everything to stay normal.

Or as normal as possible, given the circumstances.

I didn’t want my best friend to know how my dad made me feel so weak. How I always failed in my attempts to stand up to him. I was so full of shame as it was.

Padraig must’ve sensed my desperation because he gave a sober nod. “Okay, well, in that case, we’ll just tell the boys your parents are having some renovations done on the house, and that’s why you’re staying with us.”

“Okay,” I said, meeting his gaze and swallowing back the lump of gratefulness lodged in my throat. “Thank you, sir.”

Padraig stepped forward and placed his hand on my shoulder. “No need to thank me. You’ve always been a good influence on my boys. You keep them grounded. Besides, Jo loves having you around. You’re like the nephew she never had.”

Again, I just about managed to hold it together. What was it about being offered a simple bit of kindness that made me feel like I might break apart? Maybe I just wasn’t used to it.

When I finished my shift, I called Mam and explained I was going to be staying with the Balfes. It surprised me when she sounded relieved, probably because she felt like both of us staying at her sister’s was too much trouble, and Mam hated anyone being put out because of her. My temples hurt, a headache coming on. Dad had messed her head up so much she wasn’t even comfortable taking hospitality from her own sister. And me, well, I hated admitting it, but I was relieved, too. I needed to get away from my shitty family situation and just be around people like my friends, people who didn’t have the heavy burdens weighing them down that I did.

Jo was in the kitchen making nachos when I arrived at the house. I knocked on the back door since that was typically how Derek and Tristan entered.

“Rhys! Come in,” she said as she slid the door over. “Padraig called to tell me you were staying with us for a few weeks. What a treat. I love having a full house,” she smiled widely, and it was impossible to tell if Padraig had told her the truth about why I was staying with them. There was an easiness about her, the sort of easiness that came with knowing your husband loved you and cared about your wellbeing.

I wondered if my mam could ever be as relaxed and happy as Josephine Balfe. If she could be even half as content as the woman in front of me, then I’d be able to rest easy.

I scratched the back of my neck. “Yeah, thanks for having me.”

“Not at all. We love your company. The gang are in the living room choosing a movie to watch. Why don’t you go in and join them?”

I glanced in the direction of the living room. There was chatting and laughter, and I wasn’t ready to be around people just yet. “Mind if I sit here for a few?”

“Of course, hon. Whatever you need.”

I dropped my stuffed backpack down and slid onto a stool. Mam was probably going to need more of her stuff soon, too, and Uncle Eugene hadn’t managed to get the time off work to take her to the house yet. She’d taken sick leave from work, but I knew she’d have to go back eventually. My stomach twisted thinking of her going to a place where Dad would be able to find her. The office was right in the centre of town, and I’d bet he’d already dropped by looking for her.

“I made some virgin margaritas. Do you want one?” Jo asked, her brown eyes soft and caring as she gazed at me.

“Sure,” I replied, and she set a glass down in front of me. I took a sip, barely tasting it, when Tristan came in.

“Rhys! What are you doing out here chatting up my mother? Get inside. We need your opinion on whether to watch 30 Days of Night or Knocked Up .”

“I vote for whichever is the least depressing,” I replied, taking another gulp of margarita and wishing there was some alcohol in it.

Tristan turned and called out to the living room, “That’s another vote for Knocked Up . I think we have a winner.”

He was met with disgruntled protests from Derek and Aidan, both of whom clearly wanted to watch the horror movie, which I definitely wasn’t in the mood for.

“Mam, are the nachos ready yet?”

“Almost,” she replied. “Go on in and start the movie. I’ll bring them in a few minutes.”

Tristan went, glancing at me curiously as he did. I stayed in the kitchen for a little longer then helped Jo carry the giant platter of nachos into the living room where everyone was camped out after their day at the beach. A part of me was jealous of them. Aside from Charli, no one here had to work a summer job. They were free to enjoy these weeks before going back to school or college.

I probably wouldn’t be going to college. I was saving every penny I earned working at the hotel in the hopes of being able to hire a good divorce lawyer for Mam. I had no idea what they charged, but it was probably going to be steep. I wondered if maybe Padraig might hire me full-time, and that way, I could put all my earnings towards the lawyer. It would mean giving up on the French Foreign Legion, but there was no guarantee they’d accept me anyway. Maybe I didn’t need to become a soldier to make Dad fear me. Maybe I just needed enough money to pay for the legal fees that would cut him from mine and Mam’s lives for good.

I was deep in these thoughts when I felt someone’s attention and noticed Charli’s eyes on me. She sat on the loveseat next to Nuala, her attention distracted from the movie.

“I’m not so sure about this one,” Jo said. “It might be a little lewd.”

“We’re grown boys, Mam,” Tristan told her. “Old enough for a bit of lewdness.”

Jo made an unhappy noise, but the movie was already on, so she threw her hands up in defeat and left the room. I was self-conscious about the bruise on my jaw so I kept my hood up and sat on the last free seat, an armchair in the corner. Charli was no longer looking at me, but then Derek glanced at me from where he sat next to Aidan.

“Dad said you’re staying with us for the summer,” he whispered, leaning towards me.

I nodded and whispered back, “Yeah, if that’s okay?”

“Course it’s okay. You know you’re welcome here anytime.”

“Thanks,” I said, emotion thickening my throat. There was something in Derek’s gaze that made me feel like he saw more than I’d like, but he didn’t pry, didn’t try to make me talk about the real reason I was staying with him, and I was grateful for that.

Nuala and Charli went to bed once the movie was over, and I was a little disappointed when Charli didn’t look my way again. I was conflicted when it came to her. I wanted her to look at me, but I also wanted to be invisible at the same time. At least until my bruise healed.

Every time something funny happened on screen, I focused on her silky, feminine laughter. It made something low in my gut tighten.

Soon, Theo and Aidan headed home, Tristan went to his room, and it was just Derek and me setting up a fold-out bed for me to sleep on. We had to haul it from storage, but like everything the Balfes owned, it was high quality and almost as comfortable as an actual bed. I’d be fine sleeping on this for the next few weeks, especially if it meant not sharing with Derek and his nudist sleeping habits.

I, like a normal person, typically slept in boxer shorts and T-shirts. I was fairly sure I’d never slept naked in my life, not even when I was drunk. I was always sober enough to find something to sleep in.

Derek was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, whereas I laid on the floor staring at the ceiling. My mind raced too fast to rest, my brain trying to figure out the best and most of efficient course of action with Dad. Even though the house was in Mam’s name, I worried it was going to be difficult to get him to move out. It had been hard enough the first time when a friend of his let him rent a flat he owned. Other people were living in that flat now, which meant Dad would need money for a place of his own. For that to happen, we’d have to sell our current house and maybe buy two smaller apartments in more affordable areas.

Maybe I should ask Padraig for advice. He’d never gone through a divorce, but he was a businessman and had experience in buying and selling properties.

Glancing at the clock, it was almost two in the morning, and I still hadn’t managed to fall asleep. Jo kept a large selection of herbal teas in the pantry. There was one for sleep that Tristan swore knocked him out cold every time. Maybe I could try a cup.

The whole house was sleeping, so I made sure to be quiet as I crept downstairs. I stood in the pantry in the dark, trying to find the sleepy time tea when someone turned the light on. I stilled, then, a moment later, Charli appeared in the doorway.

“Rhys? What are you still doing here?” she asked, her eyes tired.

I was immediately struck by the sight of her in sleep shorts and an oversized T-shirt. The house was so still and quiet, and it felt oddly intimate to stand in the small space with her barely a foot away. She looked so pretty and sexy, her cheeks flushed, lips plump.

Instinctively, my eyes went to her bare legs, her thick, curvy thighs making my throat dry. I swallowed and averted my gaze quickly, feeling like I’d just been caught doing something I shouldn’t be.

Finally, I replied, “I’m staying here for the next few weeks while renovations are completed on my house.” The lie felt strange and clunky, but Charli just nodded as she stepped into the small room stocked with non-perishables.

“Oh, cool.” Her eyes found mine for a moment. “I guess we’ll be seeing more of each other then.”

“Yep. You’ll be sick of the sight of me before long,” I said, trying for a joke.

She chuckled. “Never. I mean, who else is going to keep me supplied with hoodies all summer?”

My thoughts went to the other day at the hotel, how much I’d liked seeing her wearing my hoodie. I’d told her to keep it because I wanted to see her wear it again. I imagined her curled up on the sofa, engulfed in my too-large hoodie, her skin rubbing up against the fabric, smelling of coconut.

“Right,” I replied. “Can’t have you running out of hoodies.”

“So,” she went on, and I shoved away my inappropriate thoughts. “What are you doing down here? Can’t sleep?”

I nodded and motioned to the tea selection before pulling out the one for sleep. “Tristan says this works for him when he has insomnia. Thought I’d try it.”

“In that case, I’ll have some, too. It’s 2 a.m., but my body is still convinced I’m back in Boston.”

“Is that where you live?”

“Yeah, just Mom and me.”

“Do you like it there?”

“Sure, though I’ve never lived anywhere else, so I don’t have much to compare it to. The weather’s similar to here, except way, way colder in the winter and warmer in the summer.”

I took the box of tea and went into the kitchen, filling the kettle with water before setting it to boil. Charli slid onto a stool, watching as I grabbed two mugs and dropped a teabag in each.

The tea had a strong scent, stronger than your typical herbal tea, which gave me hope it would work to help us both get some sleep. I noticed Charli studying me, so I made sure to keep the bruised part of my face turned away from her.

Pouring hot water into the mugs, I left them to stew and looked to Charli again.

“How did the rest of your day at the beach go?” I asked to break the silence.

“It was fun. Nuala managed to convince me to take a swim though luckily I didn’t encounter any jelly fish. Then we had lunch at a fish and chip shop. Scampi is my new favourite. After that, we came home and showered,” she said, and I forced myself not to imagine what that might look like, water sluicing down her curves …

Okay, stop.

“Sounds like it was a good day.”

“It would’ve been better with you there,” she said, and my eyes widened. A girl had never said anything like that to me before, never expressed a desire to spend time with me. What was this feeling? I was unused to the warm, pleasant sensation.

“Really?” A part of me had to know if she meant it or if she was just saying it to be polite.

“Of course. I felt so out of place being the only one who doesn’t have millionaires for parents,” she replied, smiling.

I chuckled quietly. “Right. It takes some getting used to.”

“How do you do it, though? Doesn’t it ever bother you how they just don’t get certain things? Like, in the car this morning when Aidan couldn’t understand why I was working at the hotel. It just didn’t compute in his brain.”

“It used to bother me a little, but not anymore. If they don’t judge me for not having money, I can hardly judge them for having it. We don’t get to choose the situations we’re born into.”

“That’s a very noble way to look at it. I think you might be a better person than I am.”

“Nah, I mean, think of it this way. There are people out there who have it worse than me who might think I’m privileged. Everything’s relative to your own experience.”

At this, she studied me, her eyes running over my face. “You’re a deep thinker.”

“Maybe,” I shrugged, passing her one of the cups of tea before I lifted my own and drank some. Hell, it was strong. I was a bigger lad than Tristan, but maybe this stuff would knock me out, too. I turned my head, wincing a little at the herbal taste, only realising my error when Charli gasped.

“Rhys, oh my goodness. What happened to your jaw?”

As soon as she asked the question, every muscle in my body tensed, and I was back at my house, my Dad shoving me into the wall. My shoulders still hurt from the way he slammed me. And even though Charli’s voice was soft and concerned, I really didn’t want to answer her question. I wanted to forget what happened, wipe it all from my memory.

“It was, uh, just an accident,” I muttered, grabbing my mug. “I better get back to bed. Goodnight.”

“Rhys,” she said, sounding worried, but I didn’t stay, not if she was going to ask more questions, because the only thing I hated more than telling the truth about my dad was making up stupid lies to protect him.

Derek was still snoring lightly when I returned to the room. I swallowed back the tea in several large gulps and prayed for sleep.