Family issues

JANUARY 2010

AFTER CHAPTER 4 IN ARCTIC TIDES

ANDREAS FAGERBEKK

The atmosphere was tense as Jonathan left. I should focus on the fact Kristian was in contact with Anna, but thanks to Jonathan’s parting remarking I couldn’t fucking stop thinking about home-made dildos. 

‘Ah, for fuck’s sake!’ I rubbed my hands over my face in frustration. Kristian watched me with raised eyebrows. ‘Seriously?’ I asked because really? ‘You don’t have horrible images stuck inside your head after that? I mean—a dildo-making-kit? Jesus Christ. I bet there’s a reason he hasn’t told me about it that little twat. He’s planning to ambush me with it or something—and just… fuck.’ 

Kristian burst out laughing. ‘He’s your best friend. Shouldn’t you be used to this by now?’ 

‘I’m seriously questioning my life choices.’ I pressed my fingers to my forehead. I could feel the headache spread. 

‘And really? Do you think he’d ambush you with it? With a dildo?’ 

‘I wouldn’t put it past him.’ And it would be a replica of one of their dicks, wouldn’t it? ‘Ambush me with a replica of his own fucking dick.’ 

‘Jonathan’s, actually.’ 

Now I stared at him. ‘If that thing gets near me, I will murder him. Really, I will.’ Kristian only laughed some more, the traitor. Speaking of traitors… ‘Why haven’t you mentioned you’ve spoken to Anna?’ This was where we were now, keeping secrets? 

He shrugged, humour fading. ‘I felt bad. She’s thawing a little, but your dad’s not.’ 

‘Because my dad’s a fucking git.’ It wasn’t like it bothered me. Not terribly much, anyway. We’d never been close. We’d always just… co-existed. ‘To be honest, I don’t know what Anna sees in him. He’s always been a miserable old sod.’ 

‘He’s still your dad.’ 

I spread my arms wide. ‘Never been much of one. Frankly, not speaking to him isn’t that much different from normal. How often have we rung each other since I moved here, a year and a half ago?’ Kristian gave an I don’t know kind of shrug. ‘I can probably count on one hand the times we’ve rung each other to chat.’ I held up my hand for emphasis. ‘You don’t have to hide that you’re still talking to your sister, you know. I don’t mind, really. I mean, I think he’s a git, yeah, but… it wasn’t like I didn’t see it coming.’ 

He blew out a breath, then slapped a hand down on my thigh, squeezing. ‘I’m sorry your dad’s such a shit.’ 

‘He’s been like that for twenty-five years. I doubt he’ll ever change.’ I looked down at his hand. It was strange. We only tended to touch when we were having sex—or getting to sex—but this wasn’t a sexual touch at all. 

I grabbed his hand for a couple of excruciating seconds, squeezed, and then let go again. 

He chuckled. Then his hand moved up my thigh, closer to a certain body part that hadn’t been interested in the proceedings until right now. ‘This more comfortable for you?’ I turned around and kissed him. It was answer enough. ‘We’ve got to make sure the door’s locked,’ he said in-between kisses. ‘Don’t want Varg—or worse, Jonathan—to walk in on us.’ 

I didn’t think they would show up anytime soon, not if what Jonathan said in parting was true… but Kristian did have a point. So I got off the sofa to see to the door and then we moved upstairs. To our bed. 

The tense atmosphere from earlier was gone. I even managed to get the thought of that damn dildo-making-kit out of my head. 

All was good, really.

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