Chapter 7

December 23rd

8:15 p.m.

The George was packed, unsurprisingly. It was a Saturday night, right before Christmas, snow had fallen yesterday and today, and there was a festive mood in the air. All the tables in the cobbled front courtyard were taken, patio heaters blasting out hot air in an attempt to keep the drinkers warm in the winter chill. I moved past them, entering the pub itself, and immediately felt warmer with the crackling fires and press of bodies filling every available space. Pushing my way through, I spotted a miracle—a tiny, empty table with two chairs tucked away in a corner, and I made a beeline for it. Draping my coat over the free chair, I scanned the QR code to bring up the pub menu so I could order drinks for Sam and me without risking losing our table.

When I'd placed the order, I settled into my chair, scanning the pub for any sign of Sam's dark hair. I straightened out my hands, realising that I'd been clenching my fists, and I pinched my brow. I needed to get a fucking grip. This was Sam. We'd been friends once and would be friends again. And so what if I couldn't stop thinking about?—

"Hi." Sam suddenly appeared in front of me, and I totally lost my train of thought. There was a huge smile on his face, his cheeks were flushed from the cold, and his eyes were sparkling, and fuck, I needed to kiss him more than I'd ever needed to kiss anyone in my life.

"Hi," I said hoarsely, watching, mesmerised as he unwound his chunky grey scarf and threw it over the back of his chair with his coat on top of my jacket. "I got you a drink."

"Thanks." He gave me another smile, a little more bashful, taking a seat at the table. Our knees touched in the cramped space, and I sucked in a breath. Fucking hell, I wasn't going to last the night at this rate.

"Wanna get some air?"

His brows raised at my sudden question. "Now? I just got here."

"Yeah. Now. Cramped."

He studied me for a moment and then shrugged. "If you don't mind losing the table."

"I don't care about the fucking table," I said gruffly. "I want to talk to you somewhere less crowded."

"Okay." Rising from his seat, he grabbed his coat, shrugging it on, and then draped his scarf around his neck. He picked up his pint and cocked his head at me. "After you."

Right. Yanking on my coat, I grabbed my drink and began pushing my way back through the crowds, trusting that he was following me.

When we reached the beer garden at the back of the pub, I halted. It was much quieter here, away from the warmth of the patio heaters that filled the front space. There was a light dusting of snow sprinkled over a few of the tables and the tops of the stone walls around us, undisturbed in places. Sam placed his drink down on an empty table that had been cleared of snow and then moved to lean against the bench. It took me a second, but then I realised that it was the same bench he'd been against the last time we were here. I had to close my eyes for a second, overwhelmed by a sense of déjà vu.

When I opened my eyes again, he was watching me, his gaze dark, and I was ninety percent sure that I wasn't imagining the way he was looking at me.

I knew it was up to me. I had to be the one to let him know.

Taking a deep breath, I moved forwards, carefully placing my pint next to his before stepping into his space.

We were close enough that the denim of my jeans brushed against his. Planting my hands on the table on either side of him, I leaned in. "Sam. I need…I have to ask you something." Picking up my pint and taking a swig to soothe my suddenly dry throat, I forced myself to hold his gaze. As I placed the glass back down, I gathered my courage. Fuck, I had to know either way, and I was over dancing around this. Not talking about things had been what had fucked things up between us before, so I needed proper answers. No more misunderstandings. "Do you…do you just want to be friends again? Nothing more?"

"Wait, what?" Confusion entered his gaze.

"I said, do you just want to be friends?" Drawing back slightly, I watched as his already dark eyes darkened even further. He tugged his lip between his teeth as he shook his head slowly.

"I, uh… I don't want to mess anything up again. I'd rather have you as a fr?—"

I cut off his words with my lips.

He was unresponsive for a second, but before I had time to wonder if I'd totally misjudged everything, he was kissing me back, and all I could think was yes.

His lips were so fucking soft against mine, the perfect contrast to the abrasiveness of his jaw. Our mistletoe kiss had reinforced my belief that we owed it to each other to explore this insane attraction that I could feel between us, but it had been over far too quickly. This, though. This was everything I'd been missing.

A low noise rumbled in the back of his throat as his hands went to the back of my jeans, pulling me into him before he froze.

"Stop!" He tore his mouth away, breathing hard as he stared at me with wild eyes. "Wait. I don't understand what's happening."

"What should have happened the first time you kissed me." With an effort, I stepped back, adjusting my dick in my jeans. Sam's eyes flicked from mine down to my hand, and he hissed through his teeth.

"Am I dreaming?"

My gaze travelled from his own noticeable bulge back to his face. His fucking beautiful face that held so many questions. "That first time you kissed me?—"

"I feel humiliated thinking of that. You were disgusted." His gaze dropped to the floor, and his mouth turned downwards. "I saw your face."

"No." Gripping his chin in my hand, I yanked his head up so he had no choice but to look at me. "I was shocked. Not disgusted. Never disgusted. You never gave me any indication that you were interested in me. I didn't even know you liked guys…I just thought…I dunno, I didn't really think. It never crossed my mind that you were into guys, let alone me. We barely even spoke to each other either, so to say I was blindsided was an understatement."

"Ry…"

"I know I pushed you away, and believe me when I say I'm so fucking sorry for that. It was…an involuntary reaction. I wish I'd never run from you. Truthfully, I panicked. I hadn't…no one at school knew I was bi, and I knew you were leaving for London the next day, and I was hoping to get into a uni up north, so… Fuck. I wish I'd done things differently then. And before and since. I was young and stupid." A humourless laugh fell from my throat. "Still am, as it turns out. It's not like four months makes much difference."

"That makes two of us. I shouldn't have tried to kiss you. Definitely not without having a conversation about it first. I-I had no idea you were bi, and I just, I dunno. I panicked, too, and thought it was my only chance."

Closing my eyes for a moment, I gathered my thoughts. "If I'd taken the risk and told you how I felt, then maybe we…" My words trailed off as my mouth twisted, and I knew the regret I saw in Sam's eyes was reflected in mine. "Maybe we could've done something about it then."

His eyes widened as he stared at me, taking everything in. Breathing hard, he searched my gaze, and after a long, long silence, he spoke carefully. "Let me see if I'm reading this situation correctly. You liked me then? D-do you like me now?" There was so much tentativeness in his voice, but I could hear the hope threading through his tone.

A weight lifted from my shoulders, and it felt like I could breathe again. I smiled, my thumb brushing over his jaw, feeling the texture of his stubble beneath my touch. "Yes, I fucking like you. Then and now. I wasn't ready to admit it to myself before, but I am now. I notice you every time you come into the gym, and it takes everything in me not to react."

His Adam's apple worked as he swallowed hard, leaning into my touch."Same for me. Every time."

"Yeah, I noticed." I flashed him a grin, relief coursing through my body at his words.

"I'm sorry, Ry. More sorry than you could ever know. And I guess that between us we were so fucking…" He flipped his hand in a hopeless gesture. "You know. Dumb kids. What would have happened if we'd actually taken the time to have an honest conversation with each other?"

My hand moved from his jaw to the back of his neck, my fingers scraping across the short hairs there. "I'm sorry, too. We made a lot of mistakes, but things are different now, and I think the past needs to stay in the past. Let's concentrate on the future, yeah?"

Sam smiled. "That sounds good to me. Why don't you catch me up on what you've been up to? You know, I don't even know which uni you're studying at. Are you studying at uni, or working at the gym full-time? The last I'd heard, you were planning to go to uni up north."

"I'm part-time at the gym. And yeah, I was planning on Manchester or Sheffield, but there were no spaces left on the courses I wanted, and London Southwark Uni offered me a place on their sports science degree course. You?"

His jaw dropped. "Are you joking? You go to LSU? I go there, too."

It was my turn for my jaw to drop when, in fact, I should have considered this possibility. I'd been so disconcerted by seeing him again, had placed him in a little box in my head where our lives didn't cross over, that I guess I must have convinced myself that he attended a different university to me.

"No, I'm not joking. Fuck. We've been so close all this time."

"I guess it was fate," he said.

I suddenly felt hot all over. My gaze trailed down his body, from head to toe. "If it's fate, we shouldn't ignore it."

Sam's own gaze heated, and he leaned forwards to nip at my bottom lip, making me shiver. "Yeah. We shouldn't ignore it, and we have so much time to make up for." He was back to the more confident, relaxed guy again, with no sign of the nerves he'd shown me earlier. It was such a fucking turn-on. "Why don't we get reacquainted somewhere a bit less public?"

My cock jerked as he gave me a blatant, suggestive look. A smirk tugged at my lips, my mind racing with the possibilities. "A bit less public? Let's go."