Chapter 22
Three days, four text messages and two phone calls later, Jeremy turned up at Harrison’s door with one freshly washed and folded polo shirt. He’d officially turned into a freaking stalker, but with every failed attempt at communication with Harrison he’d become more worried… and annoyed… but mostly worried. Finally, as Friday night rolled around and Harrison continued to ignore him, he’d decided to take action that couldn’t be ignored. The shirt Harrison left behind had provided the perfect excuse to stop by.
He pounded on the door, satisfied with the loud rapping of his knuckles against the wood. There was no answer, no sound to indicate anyone was home. Moving closer, he pressed his ear against the door, then knocked again. He gasped when he heard the slightest of sounds, like the rasp of fingers sliding along the wood on the other side. If he hadn’t had his ear pressed against the door he would have missed it.
Dropping onto his knees, he crouched down to peer through the sliver of space under the door. A movement in the shadows told him for sure, someone was in there. Why the hell wasn’t he answering? Surely Harrison wasn’tthatdesperate to avoid him. Jeremy jumped back to his feet and pounded on the door a third time. “You might as well open up,” he called out, “because I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
He waited. And waited some more. “Come on,” he muttered under his breath, the perfectly folded polo shirt crushed in his hands. “Open the damn door.”
The click of the lock turning made him breathe a sigh of relief. When the door opened, what he saw made him want to suck the relieved sigh back in and swallow it.
“Hey.” Harrison’s voice was flat. Little more than a croak. His gaze hovered somewhere around Jeremy’s chest.
Jeremy’s eyes travelled the length of him. From the top of his unwashed hair, over the old t-shirt and wrinkled pyjama pants, all the way down to his bare feet. Jeremy dragged his eyes back to Harrison’s face. It was drawn and rough with unshaven whiskers. There were dark circles under his eyes and Jeremy wondered how long it had been since Harrison had gotten any sleep. Then he remembered the kind of dreams awaiting Harrison when he did sleep. Maybe being awake was better.
“Why are you here?” Harrison asked.
“I tried calling and texting, but you didn’t respond.” He cleared his throat, not wanting to admit he’d been freaking out over Harrison’s mental status—especially now he knew his concern had been justified. “I was um… I was worried.”
“I haven’t been feeling well.” Harrison’s eyes flickered up to meet his for the briefest of moments before dropping once more. “But there’s no need to worry. I’m fine.”
Jeremy couldn’t help the way his eyebrows raised. “This is what fine looks like?”
Harrison’s shoulders pulled back, but he turned his face away. “Today it is.” No anger permeated his voice when he spoke. No annoyance, or exasperation, or… anything at all. “This isn’t a good time for me.”
“Right.” Frowning, Jeremy looked down at the shirt he’d forgotten about. “You left this at my place,” he said, holding it out. “I washed it for you.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Harrison reached out to take the shirt. His fingers grazed Jeremy’s for a moment and Jeremy saw him swallow before he dropped his hand back to his side, the material clenched in his fist. “Thank you,” he rasped. “I need to go. I’ll call you when I’m feeling better. We can talk then.” Without saying goodbye, he closed the door.
Jeremy stood there for a long time. He had no idea what to do. Should he leave? Do as Harrison asked and wait for him to call when he felt better? Something about that didn’t feel right.
He put his hand on the doorknob. Harrison hadn’t reengaged the lock when he closed the door, Jeremy was sure of it. He would be able to walk right in if he wanted to. But then what?
Be there for him as he takes care of himself.Anna’s words of advice sounded simple, but Jeremy had no idea how to put them into practise. The moment he’d seen Harrison’s face he’d wanted to wrap the other man up in his arms and do anything he could to take the pain away. That’s what he’d always done with Aaron and the extra attention had seemed to soothe Aaron’s wounds, at least temporarily. Coddling had no place here, though. Such tactics would be seen as an insult to a man of Harrison’s strength and discipline. Which left Jeremy clueless as to how he could help.
Frustrated by his own train of thought, Jeremy forced himself to walk back to his car. If he couldn’t manage to put aside his own compulsive need to fix everything, he had no right being here anyway. Getting into the car, Jeremy swore as he slammed the door closed.
How could he just leave? Harrison was obviously in the middle of a full-blown depressive episode. It didn’t take a genius to figure out their break up had been the trigger. Harrison couldn’t possibly be better off facing it alone. But if Jeremy wasn’t going to kiss the horrifyingly traumatic boo-boo and make it better, what was he going to do?
Harrison had said Jeremy made happiness seem possible by being in the same room. Maybe that was the only answer he needed. He could be an anchor of sorts. Not trying to pull Harrison out of the darkness, but giving him something to hold onto so he didn’t drift too far into the void. If he framed it like that, maybe he could figure out how to exist in the same space as Harrison, without making an arse of himself. The idea made a certain sense in his head, even if he was kind of vague on the technicalities of pulling it off. He started the car, filled with a new kind of purpose. At least now he knew what he would do.
It was nearly eight o’clock at night by the time Jeremy got back. With his backpack slung over his shoulder and a couple of shopping bags clutched in one hand, he opened the door to Harrison’s apartment. He’d been right earlier. Harrison had forgotten to lock it after closing it in his face. At least Jeremy wouldn’t make the same mistake.
Locking the door behind him, he turned to put his backpack beside the couch, and stopped when he noticed Harrison’s framed copy ofInvictushad been taken down off the wall. The frame now sat on the floor, turned so only the back was visible. On the brown paper taped there, three words had been scrawled in thick, black marker.Minute by minute.Jeremy stared at the words for a long moment. They were a perfect reflection of how he was dealing with this whole situation, one minute at a time, while hoping like hell he didn’t fuck it up.
He carried the shopping bags into the kitchen and started to unpack them. He was about halfway through when he saw Harrison leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway. His arms were wrapped around his torso as he watched Jeremy move around. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Putting away some groceries,” Jeremy answered as he put a carton of milk in the fridge. “I didn’t buy much, but I figured if I was going to invite myself over, I should probably feed myself. Anything less would be rude.”
Harrison took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I mean, what are you doinghere?”
“Kat’s working at the store this weekend, so I have the next two days off. I thought I’d spend them hanging out here.”
Staring hard at the floor, Harrison tucked his hands further up his body. “I told you, I’m not good company right now.”
“Lucky for you, I’m not looking to be entertained.” He put the last few groceries in the fridge and closed the door.
“I would prefer it if you didn’t see me like this.” There was a sense of resignation in Harrison’s tone now, which was better than the total lack of anything that had been there earlier.
