‘You don’t look well and this place is hardly the Hilton.’ He nudges my shoulder with his and I smile softly, fully aware of how things are. Amazed by how quickly my insides are returning to normal and the effects of one smouldering Carrero in the corner are wearing off now I am over the worst of the shock. I’m still not repentant over throwing things at him; I’m just sorry I only hit him once. I’m still smarting, but it’s hard to stay enraged and high octane when your body is giving up on you.
I think I am in dazed shock at his presence though, it doesn’t really feel like he is here. This is a weird dream after months of sleeping.
‘You don’t have to tell me that,’ I respond quietly, fully aware that this is barely better than sleeping under a bridge right now and freeze when I catch Alexi’s feet moving towards me across the floor. I won’t show him that his proximity gets to me, so even when he walks over and sits on the arm of the chair at the other side of me, a few feet away, I try to ignore him completely.
Easier said than done when your body decides to go into over the top high alert the second he’s within five feet. I blank him out as though he isn’t there.
Alexi has fallen silent and seems to be staring at me as though something intensely alluring is on the side of my face. It’s distracting but I continue to look at the door in front of us as the man working on it opens it slightly and starts messing with the edge, Mico looks up too.
Alexi, I’m assuming, is trying to dig through my skull and extract information on who would dare bruise something he clearly still considers his possession and has no interest in anything much else right now except my head. Maybe he is just fantasising about tying me up and punishing me to his heart’s content. He’ll never fucking change.
His intense gaze on me is uncomfortable and I really cannot decipher the weird sombre vibe I am getting from him when he’s this close. Or his odd silence now we are no longer physically fighting.
Four months of him eating my brain every night and in one tiny little twenty-minute meeting with him again I remember every reason I left the hospital and never looked back.
He’s an arsehole.
I sigh as the tension hits peak level and turn to Mico in complete bewilderment.
‘I don’t want him here. I don’t need him here, so why is he here?’ I say it softly, completely exhausted and I don’t care that he is right beside me. I don’t want to talk to him or look, or smell, or feel him close to me anymore. I can barely breathe with him in my room. Alexi is the last person in the world I ever want to be around again.
This isn’t what I need.
‘He’s only here as long as I am. The door is almost done, and then he won’t be much longer on other things. Look, Camilla, I think you should let me put you in a hotel for tonight and I can come see you again in the morning; alone, to talk properly.’ He gives Alexi a look over my head, sort of serious and yet apologetic now my back is on him, and I shake my head in irritation at this show of command when really there is no hierarchy in this situation. This is between Mico and me!
It’s got fuck all to do with Alexi so he can stop seeking permission from him and let me deal with my own shit.
‘I don’t need a hotel. Look, I’m sorry if I seem ungrateful when you came down here to help me. I’m just … I just don’t want to do this. Not with him. I’m sorry but that ship sailed and we have nothing to say to one another.’
‘He came here to talk, make sure you were okay. Things have changed in your absence … if you just …’ Mico looks perplexed, but I don’t want to hear it.
‘Don’t Mico. I’m too tired for this.’ Mentally and emotionally.
‘What if he has something more to offer than this?’ He gestures around the room but I burst out laughing and stand up, no longer able to deal with the way my body is goose bumping all over with his proximity, or how hemmed in he has me feeling. I feel claustrophobic, restless and antsy. Alexi has me all out of whack and I need him to just leave.
‘Not unless it’s his head on a platter.’ I avoid looking his way, but I am more than aware his eyes are following me.
‘It’s negotiable.’ Alexi interjects with a level tone that tells me nothing of his seriousness, and this time I spin on his face angrily. Annoyed he is trying to make light of things in this way, and just eternally irritated by everything he does, in general. He knows how to stoke my embers back to fire anyway.
‘Are you trying to be funny?’ I snap, good old temper rising once more, and throw a pointed snarl his way. Sensitive to everything that comes out of that man’s mouth.
‘God forbid I would do that, right?’ He snarls right back at me, his own temper going off again when pushed by mine and now I see why this was such a dumb idea. Neither of us is capable of being in one room without wanting to rip each other’s faces off. Mico should never have brought him and I don’t care what offer he might have. This is proof we will never work out in any way.
‘I didn’t know you had a sense of humour or knew what a joke was? I am just amazed you even attempted something you clearly have no aptitude for.’ It’s sarcastic, cold and venomous. Back to juvenile and Mico slumps and buries his face in his hands with a long low groan.
‘Would you two give it a rest? I have a major headache coming on.’ He sounds defeated, giving up on us and Alexi gets up to tower over me once more. Imposing and intimidating, but I am not about to back down for him ever again. I bristle as he takes up a position right in front of me, clearly ready to go at me again. I stand taller and lift that bloody chin of mine!
‘I’m sorry; I learned my wit from you. Queen of sarcasm, and couldn’t help lowering myself to your level.’ He snarls right at me, turning slightly, so we are face-to-face once more and I have to grit my teeth instead of knee him in the balls like my brain is telling me to do. I have to simmer the salty bubbling inside of my stomach and keep the absolute fury off my face.
He just knows how to get right inside my head and twist, twist, twist.
Wanker!
‘You will never be on my level, Baby, but one thing is for sure … it’s not beneath you at all. I am so out of your league you’re practically non-existent from my viewpoint.’ I toss back my hair and give him my best Camilla sass move, raising brows and smirking evilly.
‘Yeah, this is such a classy look … Baby! I’m so gutted that I don’t meet your standards.’ He picks up a strand of my lank, mousy brown hair and tugs it, that smarmy look that makes me want to punch him in the throat and reminds me how crappy I actually look. I may feel like Camilla at this moment, but I don’t resemble her at all, and he just bruises my ego by pointing it out.
‘My class is more than skin deep. Unlike you that is. You have about as much depth as a puddle.’ I raise a sarky brow, biting on my own tongue to hide my venom and try to sound unaffected by him.
I swear Mico gives up on life. He sighs, groans and gets up and walks to my kitchen and starts looking for a kettle, or something to do while we have ourselves an immature squabble over here. I think he’s resigned himself to the fact this is the inevitable outcome, and he should just stay out of it.