Chapter 11

The tickle of sunlight on my face woke me the next morning. My hips hurt from being curled on the floor, and my shoulder was bent at an odd angle, but Christ, Kim's arms around my waist felt good.

It seemed criminal to move, but curiosity got the better of me. I shifted slowly onto my back and found Kim fast asleep. For a fleeting moment, it slipped my mind that the empty space behind him meant something. I touched his face, recalling the ethereal strain in him the night before when he'd come.

I'd never seen anything more beautiful, but as entranced as I was, Kim's peaceful silence set my attention drifting, and now I remembered Red, and the rueful hope in her eyes as she'd watched Kim and me add a primal brick to our foundations.

Carefully, I disentangled myself from Kim's addictive embrace and glanced around. A scrawled note by the burner caught my eye, and I reached over Kim to snag it. The note smelled of Red, though her handwriting was almost as illegible as my own.

Boys,

I'm hitting the road, and I won't be back anytime soon.

Be good. Be kind. And thank you. Your love is beautiful, and I've learned more from you than you'll ever know.

Lena xx

There was a cryptic message in there somewhere, but Kim stirring kept me from brooding over it. He opened his eyes, and I handed him the note. "She's gone."

He nodded, still blinking away sleep. "I thought she might."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He sat up. "She didn't just come back for me, but I know she stayed so long because she was waiting for the moment I didn't need her anymore."

"But you'll always need her."

I believed that as much as Kim, maybe more, but he shook his head. "She's got her own life—her own…entanglements. And something solidified that when I met you. It's like this—" he gestured between us "—whatever it is, has set her free."

Could matters of the heart be so kind? Unwelcome, Rich's belligerence when he'd been caught flashed into my mind. The cynic in me had sought strength from it, vindication, but as Kim's theory sank in, I realised that perhaps I wasn't as jaded as I liked to believe.

Kim lay down again, tugging me with him. "I like sleeping on the floor. Makes me feel young."

"Young? I feel fucking battered. You're gonna have to show me your bed one of these days."

"It's over there." Kim jerked his head at the couch. "Pulls out to a tasty king-size when I remember to do it."

I frowned. "So what's in the back, then?"

"A mess, mainly, but it's where I do painting and stuff—canvas, not wood. Ink designs that never make it to skin. I've got some of Brix's work in there, and Calum's."

Calum. I'd heard the name a few times now. Brix Lusmoore's…boyfriend, maybe? "Can I see?"

"See what? A bunch of old paintings and a pile of tarpaulin?"

"Yes."

"You're fucking weird." Kim got up anyway, grumbling, and led me to where the back of the trailer merged with the extension.

The space was brighter than I'd imagined, helped along by the stark white walls and large windows I hadn't seen before as they were on the opposite side to the orchard entrance. I looked out over the miles of fields. In the distance, lay Belly Acre Farm, and beyond that, the moody blue sea, shimmering on the horizon above Porth Ewan's cliffs. The view was stunning, inspiring, and only the insatiable desire to see Kim's artwork tore me away.

And fuck, what artwork. There wasn't as much as he'd led me to believe, just a handful of abstract paintings that had his block-like signature, but they were all stunning—full of tempestuous colour and chaos. One in particular drew me in to the point that Kim waved his hand in front of my face.

"Have it, if you like," he said. "It'll only end up on the bonfire."

"On the bonfire?"

"I burn all my paintings."

I opened my mouth. Shut it again. "Why?"

Kim shrugged. "They don't come from a good place."

My heart ached for him as I imagined the cloud of distress lurking behind each piece. Art therapy? Maybe. Whatever it was, the paintings would haunt me long after Kim had burned them on his fire.

"Don't go," Kim whispered.

The echo of Kim's plea the previous night brought me back to the present, but his expression was playful now, devoid of the fear that had lanced my chest then. "Huh?"

Kim smiled a little. "My old man says I have the attention span of a drunk fish, but you take the piss, mate."

It was an accusation I'd faced before, though it wasn't entirely accurate. My attention span was fine; I just rarely focused where I should. "Are you working today?"

"Yeah. Studio first, then the workshop."

"How many days do you work there?"

"A couple, give or take, depending on how much I've got on."

I thought of the ever-growing list of work my family was demanding from him. "I'm surprised you have any spare time at all, to be honest."

Kim grimaced. "I haven't, really. I only took yesterday off because I thought Lena was going to leave."

"And you were right."

"First time for everything, eh? Are you hungry? I've got to swing by the workshop before eight if I've got any hope of staying on schedule, but I've got time for a buttie."

Eight? I checked my phone and saw it was barely seven. Damn. It had been a long while since I'd been awake and functioning so early in the day, and beyond being hungry, I was bloody starved, a typical hangover from a Manning family dinner. "Tell you what, I'll stay for breakfast if you let me cook. I can't remember when I last ate a hot meal that hadn't been cooked for me by someone else."

"That's kinda sad, bro. What do you live on?"

"Nothing you need in your life, bro."

I retreated to Kim's tiny kitchen and set about buttering bread and frying bacon while he took a shower. A fruitless search for HP sauce took me to the fridge, where an envelope balanced behind a Bob Marley magnet caught my eye. It had my name on it. Intrigued, I reached for it, but as Kim's footsteps sounded behind me, I stuffed it in my pocket. I'd recognised the scrawl as Red's, and something told me she'd left the envelope separate from her goodbye note for a reason.

A reason that seemed unimportant as Kim wove his long, warm arms around me. "Watcha cooking?"

"Bacon. That all right? You said you wanted a buttie."

"Can't go wrong with a bacon sarnie. Did you find the ketchup?"

"No, but to be fair, I was looking for HP."

Kim pulled a face. "You like that shit? Why? You ain't northern."

"Southerners eat brown sauce too."

"Not this one." Kim retrieved the sauces while I loaded buttered farmhouse bread with crispy bacon. Breakfast of champions, and gone far too soon.

We polished them off in record time. I offered to wash up, but Kim refused. "I'll do it later. What are you doing now? Are you driving home, or into town?"

My wobble-bike adventure came flooding back. "Actually, do you think I could cadge a lift? I kinda cycled here last night."

"Cycled?" Kim peered out of the window. "On what? I can't see a bike."

Shit. I couldn't quite recall where I'd dumped Gaz's bike.

Kim helped me search the outskirts of the commune, and eventually, we discovered the bike upside down in a ditch.

"It's got a flat tyre," Kim observed. "You won't be able to ride it anywhere."

"I didn't do much riding last night. It was more of a scoot."

Kim chuckled. "I've got some tyres at the shop. I'll bring a couple home later if you're okay leaving it here?"

I couldn't imagine that Gaz would be missing it, so I left it by Kim's front door and clambered into the pink Ford to cadge a lift into town. Kim didn't say much on the drive and we were on my doorstep before I remembered I'd never told him where I lived.

Kim shrugged when I said as much. "It's a small town. Everyone knew when a fit bloke moved into number twelve."

"Fit?" I scoffed. "Speak for yourself."

"I do." Kim backed the Ford into a space that was hardly big enough for a go-kart. "Where's your car?"

Fuck's sake. It was exactly where I'd left it at the farm. I admitted my idiocy with a groan and covered my face with my hands. Kim laughed. "Booze makes you scatty, eh?"

"Not really. I'm as much of a knobhead without it."

Kim laughed harder. "Do you want me to run you back there?"

"Nah. I don't need it. I'll get it later."

"Fair enough." Kim put the Ford in gear and his hand hovered over the handbrake. "So . . ."

"So." I made no move to get out of the car. Kim and I had made no verbal commitment to each other from this point on, but I couldn't let him go without knowing when I'd see him again.

"Do you wanna come over later?"

Relief poured through me, seeping from my brain into every nerve. I turned to Kim and smiled. "Later?"

He shrugged. "I've got a mad day, but I've got to come home sometime, right? Would be fucking ace if you were there . . . I mean, if you haven't got shit to do of your own."

I did have shit to do. Working for myself was a train I could never get off, but Kim knew that better than anyone, and the promise of an evening with him was likely all the motivation I'd need to get my arse in gear anytime before midnight. "I can probably get there around eight. That cool?"

"Aye-aye. If I'm late, let yourself in. I never lock up."

The Londoner in me shuddered, but my parents hadn't seen their house keys in years—it was the Porth Ewan way. Besides, Kim's lax security wasn't the point. Last night had been magical, but in all the heady distraction of topping Kim, I'd neglected to say the one thing he'd likely needed to hear the most. "Kim, I'm sorry."

He frowned. "What for?"

"For making you feel like shit. I never meant to. It was just, hard, you know? I'd kind of set myself up to be a terminal bachelor, and then I met you, and my brain exploded?—"

Kim silenced me with a kiss. "Jas, it's fine. I get it, I really do. You aren't the only one who wasn't set up for something like this."

There was so much more to say, and I wanted to throw myself at his feet, beg his forgiveness for ever making him feel like he wasn't good enough for the flimsy commitment I'd offered him so far, but a firmness in his gentle smile silenced me. He so fucking clearly didn't want to hear it.

With a rueful sigh, I kissed his cheek, lingering over his unshaven jaw, breathing in the clean, woody scent that was uniquely him. The booze I'd drunk the night before was long gone, but I still felt drunk . . . drunk on life, on sex, on him. Only the knowledge that the sooner I left him, the sooner I'd see him again, drove me to haul myself out of the ridiculous car.

I watched him disappear into the distance, my chest warm and tight, the memory of sinking my cock into him eclipsing everything else that had happened.

God.

The craving to just be in his company was all-consuming, but the desire to fuck him again was something else—something that I could lose a whole day to if I didn't get moving. Was it truly so hard to tear myself away from my dirty daydreams?

Apparently so, but I did it anyway. A bucket of coffee called my name, and I spent the rest of the day prepping for my next job and doing the mountain of admin I'd been avoiding. I was on my way for a much-needed shower when I remembered Red's envelope, stuffed and crumpled into the back pocket of my jeans.

Jeans that I'd ditched on my bedroom floor.

Naked, I padded back to retrieve them, and the envelope slipped free as I picked them up. I slung them onto my bed, caught the envelope before it hit the floor, and turned it over in my hands. It smelled of Red—of musk and sunshine—and I tore it open with a pounding heart.

Jas,

I'm going to try and say what I meant to say the first time we spoke, though to be honest, I feel like we met a long time ago . . . perhaps we did, but I digress.

Kim means the world to me. For many years he was my world. I lived for him, and him for me. But life went on around us, and things changed. We changed.

Do you believe in the stars, Jas? Because I do, and I saw them align when you and Kim came together at that gig. Like you need him as much as I know he's always needed you.

Don't let the past, or even the present, cloud your destiny. Let yourself be happy.

And take care of my boy. You both deserve it. I won't ever be a stranger, but you probably won't see me for a while, and that's for the best.

I love you both, even if you don't believe that yet,

Lena xox

Wow. I folded the letter with exaggerated care and tucked it into the envelope. Red's words had been much as I'd imagined they would be, but I was unprepared for the emotion ripping through my soul.

I sank onto the edge of my bed and sat on my shaking hands. Kim's bond with Red was nothing new, but the faith she'd placed in me by entrusting me with her most precious thing made my heart beat so fast I felt sick. Because Kim was fast becoming my most precious thing too, and I couldn't shake the sensation that I didn't quite deserve him.