CHAPTER 22

jamie

I t was late on Friday evening. I'd just arrived home from an evening shift and jumped straight into the shower and I already felt a hundred times better. It had been a good week though, at least as far as work went but I was ready for the coming weekend and a full two days break.

I was really hoping to see Mateo sometime too but he'd been a little quiet on the communication front after last weekend. It was no different than usual but I had kind of thought after that night that things had changed between us. At least, things had changed for me but I wasn't sure that was such a good thing as I sat alone on a Friday night, absently flicking through the Netflix offerings.

A knock sounded on my door and I stilled, my thoughts instantly flying straight to the guy who had caught me so deep in his net and hoping against hope it was him on the other side of my door.

I opened the door, my wish springing to life because standing there on my doorstep in his blue jeans and that black leather jacket was my Mateo looking, well, actually not looking so great at all if that was even possible.

"Mateo?" I gasped, taking in his red rimmed eyes, the dark circles and the broken expression on his face that had my heart racing. "Hey, what happened?" I asked, pulling him through the door and straight into my arms. He came easily, saying nothing as his head dropped to my shoulder and I pulled him closer, encasing his smaller frame in my arms.

"You're shaking," I noted as my fingers gripped onto his hands, the tremble in them evident. Actually, his breathing was a little laboured and unsteady if I was honest and I felt my alarm rise as my instinct to protect reared its head.

"Come. Sit," I urged, guiding him towards my sofa, keeping my hands around his waist as I sat right beside him, noting the tremors in his shoulders. I couldn't help myself as my fingers slipped to the pulse point on his wrist and I counted the beats in my head. And yes, his heart was galloping.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice breathless.

"Just checking your pulse," I told him, not wanting to lie to him.

"Why is that so hot?" he rasped and I tried not to smile.

"You think that's hot?" I teased, trying to distract him from wherever his mind was at as I brushed the hair from his forehead, noting the glassiness in his usually dazzling eyes.

"So hot." His breaths were still coming in short gasps and I didn't like that at all.

"Just take a few deep breaths with me, darling," I said, reaching down to clasp his hand as I demonstrated some deep breathing patterns and was relieved when he carefully followed along, trying hard to match my breaths. I could see he was still agitated but his breathing slowly levelled out and I let out a sigh of relief.

"What do you need, Mateo?" I asked, brushing his hair from his eyes and stroking his sharp cheekbone with my thumb, needing to touch and comfort him. "Tell me what I can do."

"I told my parents," he announced, words bereft of hope.

"Oh, darling," I replied. I didn't need him to tell me how that conversation had gone. It was evident in the panic his body had obviously gone into. I hoped he hadn't driven all the way here from Esperance in this state.

"I just, I need … Help me forget, Jamie," he pleaded, desperation in his tone as he shifted forward, legs bracketing mine as he straddled my waist. "Help me forget," he repeated once more as he leant towards me, his mouth landing on mine. I could taste the desperation on him as my hands shifted to his back but I also knew this was not the answer he was looking for.

"Wait, Mateo," I said, pulling back as his lips chased mine. "Just wait a moment, baby."

"Please, Jamie," he rasped, the sound pulling at every heartstring in my body. I clasped his cheeks and held them tight until he looked at me, still with that glaze in his eyes.

"If that's what you want, Mateo. I'll take you to my bed right now and stay with you until you forget everything. But I'd rather you talk to me. I want to be here for you. Tell me. Talk to me, baby."

He said nothing but his head dropped down onto my shoulder and I felt a sob rise in his throat as those shoulders of his shook under my hands.

"I told my parents. About me. And you should have seen the way they looked at me, Jamie," he said, words muffled in my t-shirt.

"I am so sorry, Mateo," I murmured, hands rubbing up and down his back. "I'm so sorry that was your experience with the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally. You deserve better than that."

He cried into my shoulder, my t-shirt wet through with his tears and I just held onto him, wishing I could take that pain away from him. Nobody deserved to be treated like this. Nobody. Least of all this beautiful, complicated soul in my arms.

I let Mateo cry himself out until he lifted his head, those pretty, dark eyes wet and red rimmed but still heartbreakingly beautiful. He slid off my lap but curled up at my side, head resting on my chest as my arms enclosed him.

"They're supposed to love me," he said, voice broken and defeated. "I have no one."

"That's not true, Mateo," I told him, hating this defeat in his voice. "You have lots of people who love you. Dante and Giulia love you like family, like family are meant to love. And you have Rob. And … and you have Nick," I added, stumbling only slightly on his ex-lover's name, knowing I needed to get over myself to make this list of names as long as possible. Mateo sucked in a shaky breath but I could tell he was hearing me. So I continued. "And you have me, Mateo. You have me too."

He said nothing but his hand clutched onto my shirt and I gathered that was his way of accepting my words, accepting what I was offering him. Accepting that I had him too.

"Can I make you a cup of tea?" I eventually offered, needing to do more for him, to take care of him.

"Please," he said, nodding against my shoulder.

I rose to my feet and headed to the kitchen to put the kettle on. "How do you take it?"

"Just black," he said weakly. "Black like my heart."

I huffed out a smile at that, waiting until I saw his lips tug up in a half-hearted attempt at a smile before I turned back to the cupboard for a pair of mugs. I found my best mug, the pretty, fine bone china cup hand painted with blue fairy wrens that my grandma had once given me. I only had the one nice cup but I handed that one to Mateo and then took my seat beside him again with my boring white mug.

"And just for the record, your heart is not black. It's beautiful and vibrant and as red as your gorgeous lips," I told him.

"How would you know. You can't see it," he returned, bringing his cup up to that mouth.

"No, but I have gotten to know it a little these past few weeks and I think I'm starting to understand it better," I told him.

"I'm not exactly sunshine and roses," he said but I could tell he wanted me to contradict him, wanted me to reassure him.

"Sometimes," I grinned. "But I also know that deep down you have a kind heart. You're fun and generous and loyal and you have great capacity to love and be loved."

He said nothing, expression blank as he took a sip of his tea as he hid behind the cup. The prettiest cup for the prettiest boy.

We sat on the sofa and shared our cups of tea and I watched as the panic left Mateo's shoulders, leaving behind a heavy sorrow that I didn't like but which was better than how he had first presented at my door.

I took his empty cup when he had finished and then he curled back up against my chest and told me what had happened with his parents, told me of their conversation and how it was their attack on Nick that had finally pushed him over the edge. I wasn't sure how to react to that, knowing it was once again thoughts of Nick that had forced Mateo to stand up for him, stand up for them both really and reveal his truth. I wondered if he would have done the same for me. I wasn't about to ask though and really it was not the time.

"Do you want to stay?" I asked eventually as the night grew old. It had probably not needed to be said but I wanted to make it clear that he was welcome. Mateo nodded and I helped him to his feet. We went through the same ritual we'd gone through the other times he'd stayed, brushing our teeth side by side, me lending him those athletic shorts that were too big for him but left quite the mouthwatering impression as they hung low on his hips.

And then he climbed into bed beside me, not even looking to me for sex as he lay on his side and I pulled him closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. I took that as a win, the fact that he saw me as something other than a release for the night especially given the way he had been when he first arrived at my apartment. There probably wouldn't be too many gay men on the planet who would rejoice at the prospect of not having sex with Mateo but I just saw it as evidence of something more, that he needed me for comfort and companionship and not just his body.

But it was not just that. It was also the fact he'd come to my door tonight when he needed someone. The fact that he'd maybe started to realise that he was more than his body. The fact that maybe, just maybe he'd chosen me tonight.