Liam grinned. “Not me. Shit like that has never bothered me, and it bothered Cory even less. And, in answer to your question, yes, I do miss him, every day, but your friend was right about time. It doesn’t make it better, but some days it’s not as hard.”
Zac needed another drink. He squeezed Liam’s hand, then stood and went to the bar.
After surreptitiously downing a vodka, he took another pint and a coke back to the table, but instead of reclaiming his seat opposite Liam, he drifted with little conscious thought to the bench where Liam sat and dropped down beside him. “Where does Hettie come into this? Was she yours and Cory’s?”
“Oh God, no. Cory was a bit of a hippie, but he liked to go home at night to his own bed. Hettie was mine. I’ve had her since before I met him.”
For some reason, Zac was relieved that every part of Liam didn’t belong to Cory. Yeah, ’cause you can’t even hold a candle to a dead man. “Have you travelled a lot with her?”
“Back in the day, I drove her all around Europe, chasing the waves and the parties, but it’s been a while. She hasn’t gone further than Cornwall since we founded the Sea Rave festivals.”
“And you stopped going to those because Cory died.”
It wasn’t a question, but Liam nodded anyway. “I’ve missed the last two. My sister runs them now.”
He looked tired, like the burden of talking about Cory was draining the life from him. Zac wanted to let it go, but the primal fascination he had for Liam was too strong to ignore. “How long have you been surfing? I’ve only seen it on the telly.”
“Surfing’s in my blood. My dad had me out at Cromer before I could walk. I don’t get in the water much these days, though. Fucked my back up a few years ago.”
Zac gave an involuntary shudder. “I can’t imagine wanting to do it. You must freeze your balls off.”
“That’s part of the magic. Besides, you don’t really feel it once you’ve caught a wave. You don’t feel much of anything except the buzz of the ride.”
“What about sharks?”
Liam choked on a mouthful of coke. “In the North Sea? Ain’t many great whites about, mate. The driftwood will get you first.”
Zac let Liam’s humour seep into him. It was good to see him smile again. He absently shifted closer and nudged Liam’s shoulder with his head. “Still reckon it sounds horrible. I’ve always been scared of the sea.”
“Why’d you move to the coast, then?”
“London tried to kill me.” The words were out before he could stop them, stark and blunt, and laced with the deadbeat sardonicism he usually saved for Jamie.
The laughter in Liam’s gaze faded. “You’re not even joking, are you?”
Zac shrugged and picked up his glass. In some ways, Liam seemed to see right through him, but in others he clearly didn’t have a clue who he’d chosen to share his bed with. “What time did they say Hettie would be ready?”
“Um . . .” Liam checked his phone. “Around now, actually. Are you ready to go?”
Zac drained his glass. “Let’s roll.”
They picked up Hettie and hit the road, heading southeast towards home. Liam was quiet as they left the north behind, and that suited Zac fine. He’d spent years keeping himself detached from every john and trick he turned—the rare not-so-bad and the awful—but give him Liam and a few pints of sleepy ale, and he was ready to cough up his life story. How the fuck did that happen?
And it wasn’t just that. As the van joined the A road and rumbled along in the slow lane, the heat Zac had felt in the pub returned full force, merging with a healthy dose of confusion he hadn’t known was there. He hasn’t touched me all day. “What are we doing when we get back?”
“Hmm?” Liam shot him a distracted glance.
“I said, ‘What are we doing when we get back?’ Have you got something else in mind?”
“Not really. I figured I’d take you home so you could get on with the rest of your night.”
“Are you taking the piss?”
“Excuse me?”
Zac turned to face Liam, even though Liam had returned his gaze to the road. “You paid me eight hundred quid. Are you seriously trying to tell me this is all you wanted?”
“This?” Liam frowned. “I told you I wanted you to come to Sheffield with me. We went to Sheffield. What else were you expecting?”
