“Um . . . yeah.” Zac slid abruptly from the bed and came to Liam’s side. “What DVDs have you got?”
Liam knew a forced change of subject when he heard one. He’s not your friend, remember? He’s not going to tell you his life story. Shame, because Liam was far more curious than he cared to admit. There was much about Zac he didn’t want to know, mostly relating to his choice of occupation, but there was no denying he found Zac himself fascinating. That he wanted to know what made him tick. Still, he knew better than to ask. Their professional relationship aside, Zac didn’t seem much of a sharer, though his reticence was intriguing.
“Have you seen all these?” Zac asked.
Liam studied the neatly ordered drawer of DVDs. Most of them were Cory’s. If they’d been Liam’s, they would have been in a shameful mess, rubbing shoulders with stray socks and a random set of screwdrivers. “Not even close. I don’t watch TV much. I’m more of a vinyl-and-chill kinda bloke.”
“Vinyl? Like old records and shit?”
“Something like that. My dad and I collect them, so we have a good mix of the old and not so old.”
“Do you have any here?”
Liam shook his head. “They’re at the house in Holkham. Never needed them here.”
“No?” Zac glanced around. “You could have an awesome rave in this place.”
“Twenty years ago, maybe. It’s been a while since I went raving, mate.”
“You’re not that old.”
“Cheers.”
Zac laughed. “You can’t be. How old are you?”
Liam folded his arms across his bare chest. “Why should I tell you that? It’s not like you’ll return the favour.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“I’m thirty-four.”
“I’m twenty-three.”
Thank fuck for that. Liam hadn’t really worried Zac was underage, but the fact that he definitely wasn’t settled the perpetual disquiet Liam’d carried since Zac had arrived. A twenty-three-year-old was capable of making his own decisions. Christ, Liam had been practically married by then. “What do you want to watch?”
Zac selected a DVD and held it out.
“You want to watch Young Guns?”
“Sure.”
Fair enough. Liam loaded the disc and turned on the TV while Zac retreated back to bed and sprawled out on his stomach again. Liam switched off the lights and hovered a moment before following him and mirroring his pose. It had been a while since he’d messed with the cantankerous DVD player, and it took him a moment to notice Zac fiddling with the half-dozen bracelets Liam wore on his arm.
“These are really cool. I thought they were all the same, but they’re not.”
Liam finally found the disc menu and hit Play, then glanced down at his arm and Zac’s fingers tracing the worn leather. “I got them from the Sea Rave festivals in Newquay. One for every year I’ve gone.”
“Never heard of it,” Zac said. “Newquay is where the surfers go, isn’t it?”
“Yup. Sea Rave is an eco festival for surfers and hippies. Kinda like Glastonbury with boards and waves.”
“My mum went to Glastonbury. She told me once I was conceived there.”
“Yeah? You should take her back. We took my dad last year. He loved it.”
The spark in Zac’s green gaze faded. “I don’t know where she is. I haven’t seen her in years.”
“Oh.” Liam had no words. His own mother was long dead, but he’d always known he was loved—that he and Rosa had been her whole world. “Sorry, mate.”
