Free Another Cup of Coffee by Jenny Kane

you, I really, really like being with you, and I don’t want to finish this, but it’s just …’ Jack sprang up and began to pace the room, taking out his confusion and frustration on the poorly carpeted floor boards.
    Kit shuffled up behind Jack and grabbed his shoulders, making him stand still as she let him off the hook with a whispered, ‘But you can’t work out if you’re a straight bloke with kinks, bisexual, or as gay as a maypole with a totally understandable need to hang onto one last female relationship, in case there is a slim chance that you’ve got it all wrong.’
    Jack stared at her in disbelief, whispering back, ‘How on earth did you know that?’
    Kit mumbled something into the floor that Jack didn’t catch, before she turned his face towards hers and looked him straight in the eye ‘I’ve known you a while. Your uncertainty is kind of obvious sometimes.’ She grabbed the edge of the duvet, pulled him towards her and covered his lips in tiny kisses. ‘While you’re deciding which side of the game you want to play on, perhaps you can make do with me.’
    He peered into her face, his shock at her calm response to his bombshell, preventing him from moving away from what Kit was about to do. He spluttered out, ‘Why aren’t you angry? Why aren’t you throwing things?’
    â€˜What would that change?’ Kit tugged him back onto the bed and slid under the duvet.
    October 7 th 2006 – 3.00am
    Jack gave up trying to sleep and headed for the bathroom. His dick had gone stiff. He could almost feel the blowjob Kit had given him. Angry with himself for not pushing her off then, and for the effect the memory of it had on him now, he wanked fiercely into the toilet. Why had she even done that? Why hadn’t he seen it as a bloody weird response to what he’d just told her? And how could a memory, a memory of a woman for fuck’s sake, get the better of him after all this time?
    Jack wiped himself dry, sat back on the edge of his bed and tried to concentrate, determined to be honest with himself.
    After Jack had told Kit everything she wanted to know, their relationship had got better, not worse as he’d expected. She’d let him do what he needed to do. He’d explored more and more of the local gay clubs and, providing he kept Kit fully informed of all his activities, she was always there to come back to whenever he needed her.
    Kit hadn’t been offended when he brought gay porn magazines into her flat, or if he chose male porn movies instead of the hetero stuff they’d occasionally enjoyed together. It was like leading two separate but happy lives, with one boot on each side of the fence.
    Now, for the first time, as he shivered against the early morning chill, Jack realised he’d been a fool to stay with Kit once he’d admitted his doubts. A greedy fool who’d hung onto her, keeping his options open, just in case. It had suited him. After all, the idea of sex with a woman didn’t repulse him, it never had. He was just damn sure he preferred it from a man.
    Jack had been so relieved once Kit knew the truth that, not only did he stop pretending to himself; he stopped considering her feelings altogether. He’d felt so free, he’d pleased himself. A habit Jack now realised he hadn’t really broken.
    Why, oh why, hadn’t he recorded that tape like he’d promised? When Amy had passed on her cassette, he hadn’t hesitated to add Joy Division’s number, even if it had taken him years to return it afterwards. If only he could remember what else Kit had chosen as her top five songs. Jack slid off the bed onto the floor, his head in his hands. How had this happened? Amy was in London, and now he’d upset Kit. He felt bewildered and disorientated.
    Jack always avoided thinking about the past. It didn’t fit with his happy-go-lucky image, not to mention his