Chapter 27
Harrison’s fingertips were drumming a continuous beat against the arm of the couch. His breathing had quickened and every few minutes he shifted in his seat, as if he couldn’t get comfortable. Wondering what the hell was going on, Jeremy turned away from the movie playing on the television to watch Harrison out of the corner of his eye. He saw the other man’s gaze stray to the clock on the wall. It was a few minutes before ten.
Jeremy knew Harrison liked to get to bed by ten so he’d have eight full hours to sleep before he had to get up again at six for work. He never slept for eight hours but, when Jeremy asked him about it, he said at least he’d given it his best shot. Jeremy understood his reasoning, even if he didn’t entirely agree, so he didn’t have a problem with it. But tomorrow was Sunday and neither of them were working. Surely staying up an extra half hour couldn’t be a big deal. Could it?
Life had returned to normal, for the most part, in the last few weeks. Harrison had gone back to work, arranging to work day shifts only while he was still recovering from his depression. The balance between good days and bad had tipped in favour of the good. Jeremy knew they were through the worst of it when he saw Harrison’s copy ofInvictushad been put back up on the wall. Except, Jeremy had thought as he stared at the framed artwork, it would never really be over. This was something Harrison would always be dealing with and, in order for them to stay together, Jeremy would have to deal with it, too. There was a time, not too long ago, when that would have been a deal breaker for him. The idea of supporting a mentally ill partner would have sent him screaming in the opposite direction. He could only laugh at the supreme arrogance of his former attitude.
Now, when he looked at Harrison, all Jeremy could see was the strength and courage it had taken for him to survive in a world that had tried to defeat him over and over again. He’d faced the endless abyss and fought his way back. Jeremy was proud to have captured the heart of such a man and he was ready to tackle any obstacle they might face in the future. Except, one thing worried him.
Harrison had changed.
Jeremy noticed it in the little things at first. The number of times Harrison went to the gym in a week increased. His intake of sugar, always low to begin with, dropped to zero. Jeremy had brought home some chocolate cupcakes one night for dessert, but the man had refused to take so much as a bite, insisting the treat would set his recovery back weeks. Jeremy understood the need for Harrison’s rules, but the sudden extremes had him concerned. Where before the rules had slotted into Harrison’s life, now they seemed more like a compulsion.
The evidence was right there in front of him now. In the increasingly loud drumming of Harrison’s fingers and the wideness of his eyes. Jeremy could see Harrison’s anxiety ratcheting higher with every passing minute.
Reaching for the remote, Jeremy paused the movie in the middle of the big action climax. “Talk to me,” he said, turning his body to face Harrison’s. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Harrison replied, shaking his head. Jeremy used his chin to gesture to Harrison’s hand. The other man looked down and saw what he was doing. The tapping stopped and his fingers curled up into a tight fist.
“Try again.” Jeremy gave him a wry grin.
“I think I’m just tired.” He looked the exact opposite. If Harrison was any more wired, he’d launched right off the couch. “I should probably go to bed.” His gaze returned to the clock. Jeremy’s followed. It was three minutes past ten. Harrison was now officially breaking a rule—and he was freaking the fuck out about it.
“The movie’s nearly finished,” Jeremy pointed out, gesturing to the paused television where the time stamp indicated less than twenty minutes of the movie remained. “Neither of us is working tomorrow. We can sleep in. You’ll still get your eight hours.”
“It’s better if I stick to the routine though,” Harrison told him. “Research shows going to sleep and waking up at the same time every day leads to better quality sleep.”
Jeremy pulled a face at him. “But research won’t tell me if Keanu Reeves will survive getting revenge on the dickhead who murdered his puppy, so… I’m going to watch the end of the movie. I’ll join you when I’m done.”
“I promise I’ll watch the ending tomorrow.” Harrison leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room with a quick, “Good night.”
Jeremy sighed as he restarted the movie. He didn’t particularly want to watch it alone, but he would. He’d continued to make a point of doing all the things he normally enjoyed, independent of Harrison’s mood. It was good for him and the knowledge he was taking care of himself helped Harrison so, it was a win-win.
After Keanu had fired the last shot and the credits started to roll, Jeremy turned off the television. He checked the lock on the front door, turned on the dishwasher and got ready for bed. Harrison’s eyes were still open when he got under the covers. “Still awake?”
“Yeah,” Harrison said with a quiet sigh. “But at least now my brain has stopped yelling at me.”
Jeremy reached out to stroke a thumb across the ridges of Harrison’s frown. “Is that why you’re all obsessive about your rules at the moment? Because your brain is a big, bad bully?”
A disgruntled noise came from beside him. “I’m not obsessive. I’m focused.”
Chuckling, Jeremy snuggled in closer. “Is that what you call it?”
They lay there in silence for a few minutes before Harrison spoke again. “I know I’ve been going overboard lately. And I know how annoying it is. Trust me, I can barely stand to be in the same room with myself. But I keep thinking, if I’d been more disciplined before, done exactly what I was supposed to do without fail, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten sick. Maybe I could have stopped it.”
“That is so not true.” Jeremy rolled over to flick on the bedside lamp before he turned back to look down at Harrison with his head propped up on one bent arm. “Babe, you didn’t get sick because you went to bed late or because you ate too much chocolate cake. You got sick because you were hiding from me. You were putting huge amounts of pressure on yourself to stay healthy and it backfired. That’s as much my fault as it is yours.”
Harrison turned to watch him, the frown deepening. “How do you figure?”
“I was ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble, I told you as much. With that whole ‘I need to stay away from damaged people’ bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “All I really needed was to take responsibility for my own actions. Which is something I’m learning from you, by the way.”
Harrison reached out a hand to cup his cheek. “It’s good to know I come in useful for something,” he murmured. “Because I can’t do much about the damaged part.”
“I don’t want you to,” Jeremy told him. “Your soul might be covered in scars, but that doesn’t make you any less beautiful. You aren’t damaged, Harrison, you’re a work of art.” He smiled at the love he saw in Harrison’s eyes. “So, stop putting so much pressure on yourself or I’ll have to kick your arse. You’re healthy now and I would like us to spend less time worrying about the rules, and more time having fun.”
“I like that idea,” Harrison said with a smile. “It might take some practise, but I promise to try.”
Jeremy returned his smile. “That’s good enough for me.” He was surprised when Harrison pulled him into a kiss, but sighed with contentment when Harrison’s tongue slid into his mouth.
“Can the fun start now?” Harrison asked against his lips as one hand slid down Jeremy’s back to grab onto his arse.
A throaty chuckle escaped Jeremy. “I don’t know,” he teased. “I’m kind of tired. You may have to convince me.”
Rolling them over, Harrison reached for Jeremy’s wrists, trapping them on either side of his head. “I can do that.”
