Scott took the staircase again, ending up in the bedroom Thomas first let him use before bringing him upstairs.
He opened the curtains, then parked his arse on the bed to wait for Thomas to come back.
If he did come back.
That thought infected Scott’s mind.
Thomas had left the mansion, a rarity according to all his staff.
He hadn’t left the place without Scott.
Where would he go?
Who would he seek out?
One name came to him, one head of green hair and one text message.
Russell had warned Thomas it would all blow up in his face and he’d be there for Thomas when it did.
Scott shook his head. “He wouldn’t.”
Jealousy filled his veins like poison. It made him weak, and hot, and too tight. He yanked at his shirt even though he wore a loose one. It itched; it stuck to his skin. Scott had to undo all the buttons to breathe.
Thomas wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t go to Russell.
But he’d wanted Russell.
Scott thought back to the day they were reunited outside of Brixton sat on the bench by the fountain. He remembered the look of lust on Thomas’s face, the way his eyes tracked Russell as he passed them, the twitch of a fond smile on his lips. He remembered how Thomas’s expression had folded once he’d gone and how desperately Thomas had sucked on the cigarette that had been in Russell’s mouth.
“Fuck.” Scott bit his lip when it trembled.
He reached into his pocket to get his phone, then clicked on Thomas’s name.
He typed out a word, one word, then stopped, cursing himself.
The word was ‘Don’t.’
Don’t kiss him.
Don’t go stay over at his place.
Don’t fall in love with him.
Don’t be happy.
Scott closed his eyes. Was that what he was asking? For Thomas to choose him even though he wanted someone else, was supposed to be with someone else. It was only ever going to be a month; Scott didn’t want to take Thomas’s chance of happiness away.
Maybe Russell was right for him?
Maybe Scott wasn’t…
He tossed the phone aside and caught his face in his hands, peering through them to watch the gate.
His heart leapt in his chest when a vehicle pulled up, but it was Tim, not Thomas, who opened the gate and parked out the front.
Scott’s phone vibrated on the bed.
He looked down at the screen.
