The Bunk Up (The Village People Book 1) (19 page)

Shivering
,
I get to my feet.

A high pitched laugh makes me turn towards the pub. My breath catches when I see Frazer and Tiffany tumbling out of the doors
,
arm in arm. They both appear to be holding each other up. Frazer’s face is alight with fun, and Tiffany’s eyes beam with lust.

Shuffling backwards, I conceal myself in the obscurity of the overhanging trees.

Everything inside me starts to burn with hurt when I watch Frazer push Tiffany against the pub wall and stick his tongue down her throat. Her hands slide around his neck and she pulls him closer so she can climb his body. Her legs twist around his waist and his hands move down to her backside to support her.

I can’t escape without them seeing me, so I have to stay put and watch as the man I’ve fallen in love with breaks my heart. Over and over.

After what seems like hours, Frazer lowers Tiffany, and taking her hand, he pulls her away until they both disappear around the corner of the building.

I know what they’re doing. My heart knows it, and so do the tears that scorch my cheeks on the way down my face.

The pain inside me is unbearable. I can’t seem to control the sobs that want to tear my chest open with the force of them.

Backing further into the trees as my devastation rocks me, I slide down the trunk and allow my quiet weeping liberty. It’s too strong to hold in, and even trying to contain every heart wrenching cry makes the agony so much more potent. I have no choice but to allow myself to break. Right in the middle of the village square. Right in the middle of a place I had come to love. And right in front of myself, the truth that I had tried to hide from slapping me in the face with an overwhelming despair.

Frazer doesn’t want me. He never did. I was just an easy shag. He doesn’t care who his cock is inside, so long as it’s inside a warm place. I have to admit to myself
,
though, that Tiffany is hot. She has the tightest ass. Her boobs are high and perky, and her teeth are perfect. There’s no wonder Frazer is so keen on bedding her. Me? I’m just ordinary. Average height, average chest (with tiny nipples, let’s not forget) and an over-average backside. My bits aren’t as tight as I’d like, and although my teeth are white, they’re wonky. There’s no wonder Frazer turned to Tiffany so quickly.

My crying calms as my phone rings.

I can’t see the screen through the blur but answer anyway. “Hello?”

“Daisy? Hello, dear?”

For some reason, the sound of Mrs Haversham’s gentle voice starts me off again. Give her her due, she patiently waits for me to calm down again, her regular and quiet rhythmic breathing lulling me into a strange sense of comfort.

“I’m sorry,” I snivel as I wipe my runny nose across my arm. My lip curls at the state of it and I hold the phone to my ear as I hunt in my bag for a tissue.

“Whatever is the matter, Daisy?” Mrs H asks.

I can’t tell her. She doesn’t know Frazer is even here.

“Frazer,” I blubber. “He’s… he’s…”

“Frazer is there?” She gasps.

I wince at the tone of her voice. She’s shocked but I can also hear the apprehension.

“Yes. He was filming a movie and… and he was staying at the cottage with me.”

“But there’s only one bed!”

“Well, we decided to share…”

“Share?” Her voice is clipped and inquisitive. “How much
sharing
did you do, Daisy?” My cheeks heat with shame and after a long pause, Mrs H asks again. “Daisy?”

“I…” I stutter, not knowing what to say as I pick at the edge of my nail awkwardly.

“Oh no
.
” Mrs H sighs. “Oh, Daisy. Frazer, he… he’s difficult.”

I nod. “Yes, he is. Very difficult.”

“What did he do?”

I pout and draw in a breath. “Nothing. And that’s the problem.”

I hear Mrs H shuffle about and I presume she’s sitting down. “You have to understand that Frazer finds it difficult to get attached, Daisy. He’s… his childhood was…” I can tell she’s ashamed but I keep quiet. Hers and Frazer’s relationship has nothing to do with me. “…not very conventional. You should never have grown that close to him, sweetheart.”

“I know,” I whisper. “I didn’t intend to. I just wanted some fun, Mrs H, you know? I just wanted to feel feminine again. Wanted.”

“I know,” she replies. “But a man shouldn’t be the one to give you that. You need to love yourself before you fall in love with another. And you’re a special girl, Daisy. You should be happy and content in your own life. You have masses of love, you’re so pretty, and you’re the bubbliest woman I know. You should adore those things instead of looking for others to tell you.”

She’s right, I know she is. “I know. And thank you.”

“No need for thank you, Daisy. I’m only telling the truth.”

“Marcus asked me to marry him,” I say, flinching at my own revelation.

Mrs H is quiet for so long that I wonder if she’s hung up. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Your life has nothing to do with me, Daisy. But I will just say, you think long and hard about what you want. Who you want
.
Who will make you happy, and who will cherish the girl I have grown to love.”

My heart swells and a forbidden sob breaks free. But this time it’s a happy sob. “Oh, Mrs H, I love you too.” And I do. I realise I now have a huge wave of emotion for the woman I’d dismissed as a silly old cow.

“Promise me you’ll figure it out instead of rushing into something that is unbreakable.”

I have a feeling she’s talking from experience and once again my soul aches for what Mrs H had to give up. Life is so hard and unfair.

“I promise,” I answer honestly before we both hang up.

She’s right. I should think long and hard. Yet, I know Frazer doesn’t see me the same way I see him. Marcus says he loves me. And I can’t see any other offers coming along.

The last thing I want is to be a goddamn spinster for the rest of my life. Plus, I hate cats.

Maybe I could get a budgie. They’re good company, right?

My heart is heavy as I pick myself up off the grass. I need to figure out exactly what I do want. And if my inner debate points to Marcus then that’s what I’ll do. It’s my life, and even if I have to settle for second best, that’s better than nothing, right?

Right?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Frazer

My head is splitting and I blow out a breath as nausea swirls through me. I shouldn’t have drunk so much.

But it’s not the guilt of beer that makes me ashamed. It’s the memories of last night that are hitting me hard. Tiffany.

Shit!

“Morning.”

I look up when Daisy steps from the stairs and walks straight into the kitchen. She doesn’t look at me and her voice is quiet.

“You okay?” I ask as I push myself off the sofa and follow her.

She nods, keeping her back to me as she fills the kettle and flicks it on. “Yep.”

Her movements are as stiff as her tone. Dropping into one of the kitchen chairs, I watch her as she moves. She’s so pretty, and the way her silky pyjama bottoms slide across her plump arse make my dick rage for attention. Fucking hell. Why can’t I get her out of my mind?

But this morning, her bubbly personality is lost. She’s quiet and subdued. Her usual light tone has gone and her shoulders sag. I would have thought she’d be full of happiness after the prick had asked to marry her. After all, she told me she wanted ‘The Dream’. And I had found ‘The Dream’ spread across the bed in the form of various wedding paraphernalia and romantic articles.

When I’d asked her what she wanted yesterday, and she’d replied with those four words, my heart felt like it had split in two.

“I want the dream.”

Meaning the dream the prick could give her. Not me. Her dream had smacked me in the face when I’d flicked through each piece of her fantasy and I’d come across various love letters Marcus had written her. Their joint names were written in her handwriting and she had scrawled his name within numerous love hearts.

So what had I done? I had fucked Tiffany. And when I heard my phone trill with another text from Tiffany, I knew I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I was so glad Daisy didn’t know what I had done. Not that it would bother her. My name wasn’t Marcus. She couldn’t care less if I fucked another woman or not. And that’s what hurt. What hurt fucking bad.

“You want a coffee?” Daisy asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“Sure.”

“And Tiffany? Does she want one?”

Fuck!
“Sorry?”

“Tiffany?” She keeps her face down as she spoons sugar into mugs. “Did she stay over? Does she want a drink?”

I stare at Daisy’s back, unable to get my mouth to form any words. My palms start to sweat and I swallow back the bile that starts to trickle up my throat. “Umm.”

It then occurs to me that I’m ashamed of something I shouldn’t be. Daisy is going back to the prick, and she’ll be fucking him. So why should I be embarrassed by doing something she’s going to be doing very soon? She won’t think of me when Marcus’ dick is inside her. Unlike I had done with Tiffany. It was the only way I could get off, thinking about Daisy. Seeing her face instead of Tiffany’s. Feeling Daisy’s lips, Daisy’s perky tits, Daisy’s sweet pussy. Hearing Daisy’s soft moans, Daisy’s gentle voice in my ear, Daisy’s dirty words encouraging me to come.

I’m doomed.

I can’t answer her. My throat has closed in and my chest feels too tight. The chair scrapes loudly across the floor when I race from the room.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Daisy

“HE WHAT?” Kathy explodes over the phone.

Why is everyone acting so surprised that Marcus asked me to marry him? Is it that unbelievable that someone would want to marry me?

“I really hope you told the weasel to do one, Daise.”

“Uhh.”

Her gasp is short but sharp. “Daisy…”

She pauses when one of the evil pixies butts in. “Mommy,” Miranda whines. “Billy is sticking his finger in the plug socket again.”

Kathy huffs. “Can you tie him to the bedpost for me, Miranda? I won’t be long.”

Waiting until Miranda has disappeared again, Kathy says, “Daisy. Please tell me you told him no.”

“I didn’t tell him anything.”

“Why?”

There’s a distant scream and a thud in the background but Kathy doesn’t sound concerned and I carry on. “Because I’m still thinking about it.”

“You’re thinking about marrying him? The
him
that boned Belinda? Are you seriously gonna be okay with him sticking it in you after it’s been in her black hole?”

“This isn’t just about sex, Kath.”

“It’s a bloody good job, especially ‘cos he’s crap at it. Are you really gonna be okay with no more good sex for the rest of your life?”

“I would rather give up sex and be happy.”

“Oh,” she scoffs
.
“And Marcus is gonna make you happy
,
is he?”

Is he?

“Why are you being so mean?” I ask, sulking as I slump onto the bed and turn to face the window.

“I’m your best friend; that gives me entitlement to be mean. But you know I’m right
.
That’s why you think I’m being mean. You can’t, Daisy. You just can’t. Do you love him?”

“I… love doesn’t make you happy, Kath. It isn’t about that. I’m scared. Scared that one day I’m gonna wake up and have no one. I want babies, but soon I’ll be past that point…”

“Shit, Daisy. You’re only twenty-six.”

“Twenty-five,” I huff. “I’m lonely,” I whisper, hating what I know is the truth. “I’m so fucking lonely.”

Kathy sighs. “Oh, babe. I wish I was there. We need to have a night of Netflix, ice-cream and chilling.”

“Not you as well!” I murmur, re-evaluating all the nights I’ve shared a bed with Kath and found her arm around me and her hand on my left boob – although I like my left boob; it’s a lot nicer than my right. Kathy evidently feels the same.

“Eh?” she questions
,
just as another ear-piercing scream echoes through the phone. “Gotta go, babe. Don’t decide anything until you’re home. I mean it!”

“Yes,” I groan before she disconnects.

A loud bang comes from downstairs and I frown. Climbing off the bed
,
I make my way down.

Frazer is laid face down on the floor. He groans when I rush over to help him up.

“Are you okay?” He groans again and I’m hit with a tidal wave of alcohol fumes as I steer him over to the sofa. “Bloody hell, Frazer. It’s only just after lunch.”

“Who are you, the fucking alcohol police?” His tone is sharp, and his eyes even sharper as they pierce me.