“I’m going to get some air,” Rafe said. He got up and went to the front porch, but it was full of party spillover. One kid set up an iPad that livestreamed the balldrop.
He returned inside the house and squeezed through the crowd to the back porch. An ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts sat on the porch railing. The lingering smell of smoke hung in the air. But at least it wasdeserted.
All except for onesmoker.
One very familiarsmoker.
“Hiya.”
Eamonn
Rafe gave him a look that brought Eamonn back to life, or at least helped him push back against the wicked jetlag he was experiencing. Eamonn wanted to pull him against his chest and smother him with a kiss, but he didn’t know where they were at. Rafe was in shock. He was inshock.
“I’m not out here smoking.” Eamonn showed him his empty hands. “None of those butts aremine.”
“You’re here,” Rafe said, still in adaze.
“I coordinated with Coop. I landed inPittsburgh.” He said it with an American accent, the only proper way to say Pittsburgh. “Then I took a shared van all the way to wherever weare.”
“Duncannon, Pennsylvania.” Rafe ran a hand through hishair.
Bleeding Christ. His hand felt so good. He missed all these details of Rafe that he’d taken for granted. The crease of his brow. The curve of hisneck.
“You flew all the way here. You hate tofly.”
“I’m still not a fan. Our plane slammed into the runway when we landed. And the food was one level abovedogshit.”
That hadn’t been the worst part about traveling. When Eamonn had arrived at Heathrow Airport, he couldn’t go in. He stood outside the automatic doors, his heart trembling, bad memories searing his brain from the last time there. It took both Heath and Louisa literally shoving himinside.
He went through the same security line that he’d been in when chasing after Nathan. That meant the same terminal. The scene of the crime. His gate happened to be one over from where Nathan had taken off from. God loved to fuck with him. He wanted to turn back. His stomach crinkled like foil. But his love for Rafe, his need to hold that Token Yank in his arms, it was stronger than all the sad stories of his past, all of his fears and doubts, and it would continue to make him a strongerman.
“I had to come back,” Eamonn said. “I had to give you this.” He removed Rafe’s mobile from hispocket.
“My phone! Did Scotland Yard find it?” Rafe turned it on and marveled at the homescreen.
“No. The bouncer at Laffly’s did. He found it behind the toilet. I think when we were in the loo...not using the loo, it slippedout.”
“That’s what we get for not using the bathroom for its intended purpose.” Rafe looked at his phone one more time. The screen lit up his beautiful face, then he put it in his pocket. “So you came all this way just to bring me myphone?”
“I am agentleman.”
The moment was too big for wittybanter.
“Eamonn…”
Their lips met in a heat that could’ve melted all the snow around them. Eamonn cupped Rafe’s cheeks and savored the taste of his lips. He felt a part of himself get put backtogether.
“So what do Yanks do on New Year’sEve?”
“We count down. And we watch the balldrop.”
“Whose ballsdrop?”
Rafe heaved out a laugh that was a cloud of air in his face. “The ball. It’s in Times Square in New York City. It’s all Waterford crystals or something like that. Then we singAuld LangSyne.”
“You’ll have to teach me.” He kissed Rafe again. Andagain.
“What do they do in England for NewYear’s?”
