‘What does that mean?’ My voice is high and edgy.
‘Ava, I inherited The Manor when I was twenty one. Can you imagine a young lad with this place and a whole lot of women ready and willing?’ He looks ashamed.
My mind starts racing. Oh, I can imagine all right and it’s no wonder the women were ready and willing. They still are. Look at him! ‘You mean the dabbling?’ I whisper. Do I want to know this?
He exhales. ‘Yes, the dabbling, but it’s all behind me.’ He sits forward on a wince. ‘Now, it’s all about you.’
‘You drank and dabbled?’
‘Yes, like I said, drink and sex go hand in hand. Please, come here.’ He reaches across the big table that’s positioned between the two sofas, but I pull back. His hand drops and he looks down at the floor. I still don’t understand, and it still doesn’t explain why he has just accepted a thrashing from Sarah.
‘So, you didn’t have a drink because you would have wanted to have sex?’ My forehead must look like a road map because I am thoroughly confused.
‘I don’t trust myself with alcohol, Ava.’
‘Because you think you will jump the nearest woman?’
He laughs nervously and runs his hands through his hair. ‘I don’t think so. I couldn’t do that to you.’
‘You don’t think so?’ I’m shocked.
‘It’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Ava. I drink too much, lose reason and women throw themselves at me willingly. You’ve seen it.’ He gives me an embarrassed smile.
I scoff. ‘You didn’t look very capable of anything last Friday!’ He was unconscious and yes, I have seen women throw themselves at him. It’s degrading!
‘Yeah, that’s not my normal level of intemperance, Ava. I was on a mind numbing mission.’ he says awkwardly. I suddenly feel awful.
‘So, you usually maintain a steady level of drinking and then have lots of sex with lots of willing women?’ I think I’m getting my head around this. ‘You’ve never had a drink when you’ve slept with me?’
He gets up and shifts the table so he can kneel in front of me and rest his hands on my thighs. He looks straight into my eyes. ‘No, Ava. I have never been under the influence of alcohol when I’ve had you. I don’t need it. Alcohol blocked things out for me, made me forget how hollow my life was. I didn’t give a f**k about any of the women I slept with, not one. And then you fell into my life and things changed completely. You brought me back to life, Ava. I never want to touch the drink because if I start, I might not stop and I never want to miss a moment with you.’
Tears start to prick at my eyes at his confession. He was a playboy who f**ked about all over the place. I knew that. ‘Have you had sleepy sex with anyone else?’ I hold my breath. Of all the things to ask, I ask this?
He sighs heavily. ‘No.’
I narrow my eyes on him. ‘What about a sense f**k?’
‘Ava, no! I’ve never cared about anyone else enough to need or want to f**k any sense into them.’ He squeezes my thighs. ‘Only you.’
Okay, that bizarrely helps, but he still insists he’s not an alcoholic, which is utter madness. If you don’t drink because you can’t trust yourself, then there’s a problem and anyway, he could have been under the influence all this time. They say a good alcoholic hides it well. How the hell would I know? I think back to Thursday evening when I found him in his office with a bottle of vodka and another woman. Oh, this is bad news. Not only have I got the concern of him having a drink, I’ve also got to worry about what he does once he’s had one. This is rich! I can’t even have a business meeting with a male client without him dissolving on the spot, although Jesse’s meltdown with regards to Mikael seems to be warranted. But I’m not delusional enough to think that he wouldn’t trample my other male clients.
I push his hands away from my thighs and get up, leaving him crouched by the sofa looking lost. ‘So on Thursday in your office, are you telling me that if you had drank the vodka, I would’ve found you nailing Sarah on your desk, not just looking cosy with her on your desk?’ This is horrible.
He gets up and stalks over to me, grabbing my hips to immobilise me before bending down to get into my line of sight. ‘No! Don’t be so stupid.’
‘I don’t think I’m being stupid.’ I scathe. ‘It’s bad enough worrying about you drinking. I don’t know if I can cope with the additional complications of you being drunk and wanting to f**k other women!’ I’m screeching, but I can’t help it.
He recoils. ‘Will you watch your f**king mouth? It doesn’t make me want to f**k other women. It just makes me want to f**k!’
‘So I had better ensure that I’m with you when you have a drink then, hadn’t I?’
‘I won’t be having a drink! When will you listen to me, woman?’ he shouts. ‘I don’t need drink.’ He releases me harshly and stomps off towards the window and then back again. He points at me. ‘I need you!’
And we’re back to that. How the hell does he know? I slap his finger out of my face. ‘You need me to replace drink and screwing.’ I want to cry. All he needs me for is to remove himself from a lifestyle that would kill him if he kept it up for much longer. I’m his escape from a certain premature death by alcohol poisoning. I think I might throw up again. He really is scared of me leaving, but it has nothing to do with how much he loves me. It is because he is scared of returning to a hollow life. ‘You manipulate me.’