Chapter Twenty-One

Alex

T he day was lengthening by the time we were sitting in the Lamborghini with a couple of lattes and a flapjack from Costa. I saw the same look on his face as must have been on mine when we told the police it had been a homophobic attack. Humiliation, shame, embarrassment. Neither of us wanted to talk about it. We would have preferred to let it go but the old bloke had already called the cops and they were followed by paramedics who checked us both out. They advised me to attend hospital as the back of my head was bleeding, but I declined. I wasn’t going anywhere near an A&E department on Boxing Day. Around the country they would be full of Christmas pissheads. I just needed to get home and rest.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lucas asked gently.

I nodded. “Are you?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re okay to drive?”

“I’m fine.” He started the engine before handing his cup to me. “Sorry.”

I thought it was cute that he was apologising for me having to hold his coffee due to the lack of cup holders. My head was aching and my jaw felt like I had been in a boxing ring with Anthony Joshua. Hmm, one of my crushes. Sometimes I imagined being in a ring with him, there to fight. He’d raise a fist to punch me, then a look would come over him and he’d stare at me like I was the most delicious thing he had ever seen. He’d grab me in front of thousands and kiss me and the crowd would howl in delight and applaud. I smiled to myself. I didn’t need to fantasize about AJ anymore now I had the man beside me. I glanced at Lucas. Perfection. We were on our second day together. When he dropped me at work tomorrow, maybe that would be the end. Christmas would be over and reality would intrude. Work. Real life. He’d go back to his busy life and possibly have no time for me. Or he’d realise we were incompatible and it was never going to work. I stifled a sigh and looked forward through the windscreen as he pulled onto a roundabout and took the exit for the motorway. If it imploded, then so be it. I’d had two fabulous days I would remember forever.

◆◆◆

Lucas

The central heating was on and the house cosy when we got back after stopping to pick up some things for Alex. I felt how cold his flat was while I waited for him and didn’t take my coat off. I felt so bad for him, so sorry that he couldn’t have his heating on a timer to welcome him home with warmth the way I do. I heard him cursing from the bedroom.

“What’s wrong?” I called.

“I haven’t got a clean shirt for tomorrow,” he said.

“Bring any washing you need doing. I’ll throw it in tonight,” I said. “I’ll even iron it for you.”

He popped his head around the door. “Do you do your own ironing?”

I smiled. “Sometimes.” I had a housekeeper who cooked, cleaned and did laundry, but I had been known to work my own washing machine and dryer from time to time and iron my own shirts. I also cleaned, if the house needed it.

“Impressive,” he said with a smirk. “I thought people like you wouldn’t even know how to put up an ironing board.”

I walked forward, stopping when I was so close to him I could rub my nose against his. “People like me?”

“Yeah. Loaded.”

I shrugged. “I’ve got a few quid. I’m not loaded.”

He snorted and brushed his lips over mine. “Right.” He went back to shoving stuff in a rucksack while I reflected on the electricity that had sizzled through me just then and fought down the urge to push him down on the bed. It was way too cold to get naked. I wanted to get home, get changed into something more comfortable and eat some warm food before I thought about sating my baser desires. I hope he agreed with me, but no way would I push him. We were both injured, him worse than me. That interlude at the services had been a sour note to a perfect Christmas and I cursed those wankers to hell for ruining everything. We should have been heading back to mine to roll between the sheets for hours. Now we might be heading back for a couple of paracetamol and an early night.

◆◆◆

Alex

The Christmas lights on his house were illuminated and a light burned in the hallway and the front window. I guessed he had these things on a timer. Warmth greeted us when he opened the door and ushered me in and my stomach twisted with humiliation when I compared my freezing cold flat with his palatial snug home. I ached for all I would never have and hated myself for my envy.

We took our shoes off side by side on the bench and slipped our feet into slippers, then he hung our coats and scarves on the rack and beckoned me through to the kitchen. I noticed the presents still under the tree in the hall and said nothing. I sat at the island as I had two nights ago when we came back from the wine bar. Things had changed between us since. He had met my family, we had become physically intimate, and we had been the victims of a hate crime. The latter hadn’t been the way I’d wanted our time together to end. If it was ending. I had to be philosophical. A one-night stand had turned into two, but he’d never said he wanted more and neither had I. Should I put my cards on the table or go with the flow and hope for the best? If he wanted to bring me here for one final fuck before never seeing me again, I had to accept that gracefully. Maybe two days with me and dealing with my dad was more than enough, sex or not.

He took my dirty clothes from my rucksack and disappeared around the corner to, I guessed, a utility room. I heard a washer start up before he closed a door.

I eyed him wistfully as he fired up the coffee machine. The bruising on his cheek was starting to look much worse, different hues of blue and purple, while his lip was swollen and crusted with a scab. Guilt pricked at me. I thought of what he had gone through this time last year at José’s hands and hated that I had allowed him to get into another violent situation. Why had I let him kiss me in the toilets? Why hadn’t I stayed well away from him until we were back in the car? Despite the warmth of the house, I started to feel cold, a tremor seizing me, my mind dwelling on what could have happened, not what had. What if one of those lads had a knife? What if Lucas had been stabbed? What if…

“Hey.” Lucas’s voice drew me out of my spiral. I had always been my own worst enemy. A champion ruminator, going back over past events until it drove me insane. Should have, would have, could have. That was me. Always telling myself I should have done this, should have said that, should have, fucking should have .

Lucas was walking around the island to me with his eyebrows drawn together. I tried to turn my face away to hide what must have been an open book to my soul, but he captured my cheek in his palm, drawing me to him, standing close and looking into my eyes. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, closing my eyes when they started to well with tears.

“You’re not okay.” It was a statement, not a question.

I tried to speak but thought my voice might come out as a pathetic squeak. In response, he pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. With my head tucked under his chin, he stroked my hair. “It’s all right. I promise. It’s over. Those dicks were all over CCTV. They’ll be caught before they do it to someone else.”

I grabbed him hard around the back, biting my lip hard. Still the words burst from my lips. “I’m sorry.”

He eased me back by my shoulders so he could look at me. His face was one big frown. “What are you sorry for?”

“Getting you into trouble.”

He stared at me for a moment before his face relaxed into concern and tenderness. He stroked my cheek. “Hey, you didn’t do anything. I didn’t choose the best spot to kiss you, but then again, I should be allowed to kiss you wherever I want. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got hurt. It’s all my fault.” His fingertips travelled over the hair at my temple and I winced at how sore the spot was.

I shook my head. I grasped his hand and brought it to my mouth where I kissed his fingers. I saw his pupils dilate. Then we entwined our fingers and looked at each other, squeezing each other’s hand. I swallowed. My voice was small and hoarse when I spoke. “I need you to fuck me.”