Dylan pulled back, his sunny face twisted in a glare that went straight to Angelo’s cock. “Pay attention then. I was miserable when I came to the club that first time. I’d walked out on the best friends I’ve ever had because I couldn’t stand seeing them so happy together, and I was scared, depressed, and fucking lonely. Then I met you, and I stopped wishing things could bedifferent.”
Angelo wanted to seal Dylan’s words with the kiss that he’d been craving all day, but then he pictured himself stumbling into Dylan’s bed and sleeping like a dead man. “I wish you’d met me two yearsago.”
“Why?”
“Because I was a different personthen.”
“I like you as youare.”
Angelo shook his head, like he could block out the reality that had hounded him out of America with pure denial. “Youshouldn’t.”
“Well, I do.” Dylan wriggled out of Angelo’s embrace and slid off the counter. “So you can either come home with me and spend the night or you can piss off and wallow in self-loathing. Either way, we’re going for dinnerfirst.”
* * *
They squabbledover who paid for dinner, and for once Angelo came out on top. He took Dylan to Romford’s best-kept secret and bought two polystyrene trays of Greek gyros for less than afiver.
Dylan ate the chargrilled, garlicky chicken like sin, licking his lips and sucking on his elegant fingers. Angelo barely tasted his own dinner and instead passed the time imagining wrapping his own tongue around various parts of Dylan’sanatomy.
“I’ve been reading about chronic fatigue syndrome today,” Dylan said when he was done driving Angeloinsane.
“You didn’t have any real work todo?”
“I had plenty, but ME is something our office has come across often, but not ever truly understood, so I figured it would help lots of people if I read up onit.”
Angelo knew Dylan well enough by now to believe that he was entirely serious. “What good is you being an expert on my bullshit to anyoneelse?”
“Plenty. We have plenty of clients who can’t work because of conditions like ME and fibromyalgia. If we can persuade creditors?—and the government, actually?—to take them more seriously, then sufferers will be a lot better off. Imagine if I could persuade your credit card lenders to wipe yourdebts?”
“That won’t happen. You think they give a shit that I can’t dance in tightsanymore?”
“I’m using you as an example, a bad one, I know, as your shit hit the fan across the pond, but still. Don’t heckle me. I’mtired.”
Angelo nudged Dylan’s foot under the tiny plastic table. “I’m not heckling. I guess I’m just embarrassed that you know all my darkest secrets. The only time I feel halfway human compared to you is when we’re in theclub.”
Dylan’s eyes flashed. “Are you serious? You run a town-centre deli single-handed all the while battling a debilitating condition with no support whatsoever, medical or otherwise. I couldn’t do what you do, Angelo. I have to go kip at my dad’s for a week when I catch acold.”
“I don’t believethat.”
“Well, you should. I know it pisses you off when I bring up Sam, but you’re just like him in this sense. Stubborn as a fuckingmule.”
“It doesn’t piss me off when you bring upSam.”
“No?”
The challenge in Dylan’s electric gaze was clear. “That’s a shame. It would piss me off if you had a friend you’d been lusting after foryears.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you all tomyself.”
“You have me all to yourself?—?” Angelo’s hand twitched. The muscle spasm ran up his arm and into his shoulder, leaving a trail of pins and needles behind. He glowered at his arm and braced himself for the tingling tospread.
Dylan touched Angelo’s arm. “What’swrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You know my bullshit filter is the latest model, right? So it’ll be quicker for both of us if you just tell me you’re notinterested.”
