“Then maybe I’ll never leave?” He shoots out a foot and kicks my knee with it. When did he take off his socks? “Maybe we grow old together . . . How does that sound?”
So fucking good. It sounds perfect. It sounds . . .
Impossible.
“But—”
“No buts, Lando.”
“But—”
He kicks me again, harder this time. “What did I just say?”
“But what if you cheat on me?!” I have to shout the words out so he doesn’t assault me.
“That’s not something you’ll ever have to worry about.”
“But what if I don’t want to have sex for . . . a long time?”
Harry shrugs. “So? I have a fist, don’t I? And an asparagus-shaped dildo. And a pocket pussy. Well . . . bussy I suppose. Felt more gender neutral to get the bumhole one.”
“Oh my god.” I slap a hand over my mouth. “But what if it’s weeks? Months?”
“Babygirl, I don’t mind if you never want to have sex with me ever again. It’s not a deal breaker. The sex is not why I love you, okay?”
“You would care, though. Imagine a few months have gone by and we haven’t fucked. I couldn’t blame you for seeking it elsewh—”
Harry yells out a string of incoherent sounds to shut me up. “Orlando Oakham-Goodwin, I’ve gone an entire year without sex. Not even a sneakyhandie or BJ, because it wouldn’t have been with you. I can go longer. Wanna test me? Put your father’s money where your mouth is?”
I’m laughing. And moaning. “It’s not that easy.”
“Of course it is. I want us to be together, officially and exclusively this time. I want everyone to know that you’re my boyfriend, and I love you.”
I hide my face again, crumpling forwards onto the rug.
Harry doesn’t interrupt my existential crisis or rush me for an answer. Instead, he gets to his feet and moves away from me towards the desk. He moans as—I presume—he shoves more meat into his mouth.
“Also, I was thinking,” he says with his mouth full. “You could move into my apartment with me.”
Okay, now I’m on all fours staring at him.
“If you like. But if you need somewhere to put all your clothes and perfumes, we can rent a two bed together. There’s one in the building right across the street. The neighbours are moving to Devon. They own the flat but are thinking about letting it out. It’s basement, but it’s massive, and it has a garden. And . . . maybe in like ten years or something when I retire . . . we could get a dog?”
“Harry, are you okay?”
He scoops another handful of prosciutto into his mouth and talks around it. “Yeah. I’ve had a lot of time to think about stuff. I’m miserable without you. You’re miserable without me. I mean, you’re miserable with me, but why not . . . just be miserable together.”
It’s actually a very decent argument.
I down a quarter of the bottle in one go. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
“So we’re gonna do this? For real? You’ll be my boyfriend?” Harry kneels next to me.
I’m still terrified. “What if—”
