“Aye, but I left, and some folk round here would say that makes me as good as dead.”
Lunchtime found Brix shuffling through Blood Rush’s back door, hoping to reach his seldom-used office before anyone saw him. Lena had other ideas, though. She was already there, glaring at the appointment book she used to back up the computer system that Brix didn’t understand.
“Afternoon,” she muttered distractedly.
Brix grunted and dumped his bag on the floor. “Can’t you do that somewhere else?”
“What’s got on your tits?”
“Nothing.”
“Suit yourself. So you’re not as hungover as Calum, then?”
“Calum?”
Lena set her work aside and peered at him over the reading glasses that made her look like a punked-up school secretary. “He was pretty ropy when he dropped by this morning, not that he was admitting anything. Did you have a good night?”
“I have no fucking idea. Woke up on the couch at 3 a.m.”
“That bad, eh? Oh, speak of the devil . . . Hey, Calum.”
Brix jerked around faster than his aching head could deal with. Calum stood in the doorway, dishevelled and gorgeous . . . too fucking gorgeous if he felt even a fraction as terrible as Brix did.
“All right?” Calum said, sidestepping Lena, who flipped Brix a wink and left the room. “Did you get your shit done?”
“‘Shit’?”
“You said you had stuff to do this morning.” Calum frowned. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be nosy.”
Brix couldn’t handle the barely detectable slump in Calum’s shoulders, the dejection he probably thought no one cared to notice. “You’re not being nosy, mate. I’m being a div. Need a cuppa or something.”
The “or something” was becoming a matter of urgency. As Brix said it, a familiar wave of dizziness swept over him. Damn it. Why the fuck hadn’t he forced some breakfast down? He sat abruptly in Lena’s abandoned chair.
Too abruptly, apparently. Calum stepped forward. “Brix? You okay?”
“Aye, just need to eat. Is Jory around? He’s usually my bitch when I’m hanging. Kid’s fucking awesome at fetching butties from Becky’s.”
“Becky’s?”
“Doorstep sandwich place,” Lena said, reappearing suddenly at Calum’s shoulder. “Can’t beat it when you’re hanging. What do you want? I’ll get it.”
“Anything.” Brix drew the appointment book towards him, hoping Calum would go with her and give him the few moments he needed to get himself together. “I’ll be fine when I’ve eaten, honest.”
Lena knew him well enough to believe him. She grabbed her bag and vanished again without further comment. Calum appeared less convinced. He knelt in front of Brix. “You look like hell.”
“Feel like it. Scrumpy does that.”
Calum snorted. “Don’t I know it? I woke up at the top of the stairs. Didn’t have a fucking clue what had gone on. I’m all right now, though. Kim brought bacon butties in.”
“Kim’s good like that,” Brix said absently, wondering how much “Didn’t have a fucking clue what had gone on” actually covered. “Did you tuck me up in bed?”
“Erm . . .”
“Don’t answer that.”
Calum stood, obviously reassured that Brix wasn’t about to keel over, and perched on the desk instead. “I didn’t want you to get cold.”
Fat chance of that with Calum around. His presence was making Brix more flustered with every day that passed, something that worried and baffled Brix in equal measure. Had things always been this way between them? No, they couldn’t have been.
