Don’t what?
“Shit.” Scott swallowed. He’d sent the message. That one word.
Scott?
The phone started buzzing, and Scott snatched it from the mattress. He answered but didn’t say anything, and neither did Thomas. The jealousy rolling through him made him listen to the background noise, searching for another person, but there was nothing.
“Don’t what?” Thomas asked.
“Don’t go to him.”
Thomas didn’t say anything.
“Don’t stay over at his place and fall in love with him.” Scott savaged his bottom lip, but it still twitched beneath his teeth. “Don’t choose him over me.”
Thomas sighed. “You’re an idiot.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said in the kitchen –”
“No, not tha – did you really think I drove to Russell’s place?”
“I hurt you. You were angry at me.”
“Scott, I’m…” Thomas huffed. “I’m not angry with you. I know what you said isn’t true.”
Scott clutched the phone. “It’s not. I didn’t mean –”
“I know,” Thomas repeated. “But if I’d stayed in that kitchen, I would’ve used words to hurt you, and you would’ve used them back, and we would’ve kept on like that until you either left or I kicked you out.”
Scott swallowed hard.
“I shouldn’t have looked,” Thomas said softly. “I wanted to help, get this man off your back for good.”
“The look on your face when you found out I didn’t go to Megan’s funeral…”
“You didn’t talk about her much inside, but I knew you loved her. You wouldn’t have tried to blackmail that politician unless you loved her. You wouldn’t have made a deal with a psychopath unless you cared about her. My immediate reaction was shock that you didn’t go to her funeral. But I do know you, Scott, maybe not all of you, maybe only a tiny part, but I do, and you would’ve had your reasons.”
“I didn’t go because I was angry at her.” Scott eased out a breath. “She didn’t last the full eight weeks. She promised she would, but she didn’t. Then there was nothing. She knew exactly where I was in Brixton, but she didn’t visit or write oranything.I was numb when I found out she’d died, and I was going to go to the funeral but…”
“But?” Thomas whispered.
“It was only seven years before that we’d buried our mother. Drugs were her weakness too. I held on to Megan’s hand as we watched her be lowered into the ground. I couldn’t go back there, couldn’t see that grave opened up so they could dump my sister’s body on top of her. I didn’t go, and I didn’t tell you, and that was not about trust. I didn’t know how to talk about any of it.”
“You’re talking to me now.”
“I am,” Scott agreed. “People think because I have nice hair, an attractive face, good clothes and a defined body that I’ve got my shit together, but I haven’t. I’m a mess on the inside.”
“I know you are.”
Scott snorted. Thomas’s reply should’ve offended him, but it came as validation. “From the age of eighteen, my life became about sex, money and the high it gave me to please people. I touched my disgusting art teacher. He’d known me since I was twelve. He paid me money. I gave it to my mum so that month we wouldn’t have to choose between food and running the heating, and she’d smile at me and that made me feel good. My teacher introduced me to a few of his friends. They paid me well. Mum never asked where the money came from. That’s how it started, and this is where I am now, alone, with an unhealthy relationship with sex and money, trying not to fuck things up with you.” Scott’s eyes stung. A tear rolled down his face and hooked on his jaw. “I can’t bear to see you drive away from me again. It really fuckinghurts.”
Thomas sucked in a breath. “Listen,” he said. “You listening?”
Scott wiped his cheeks as he did, frowning when he heard an engine start.
“I’m driving back to you, Scott, and we’re going to sit down, and we’re going to have the talk.”
“What talk?”
