“Yeah, so he did most of the househimself.”
“Nice.”
“Tell him that. He rips it all out every couple of years and starts again. Drove me up the wall when I livedhere.”
Angelo glanced around again. “Is your dadhere?”
“Not yet. He’ll be in the pub tilldinnertime.”
The mention of dinner made Angelo’s stomach growl?—a new phenomenon since Theresa had become obsessed with feeding him. The more he ate, the more he wanted to eat, and it feltgood.
“You look well, by the way,” Dylan said. “Better than when I last sawyou.”
Angelo winced. “That can’t have been pretty. I was off my tits onmorphine.”
“I couldn’ttell.”
“Liar.”
“It’s true. Hey, do you eatcurry?”
“Huh?”
Dylan chuckled. “My dad would live on fish and chips if I didn’t cook for him every once in a while. I’m making a ruby. Yougame?”
It was the best offer Angelo had heard since the last time Dylan had asked him if he was game for something. “Can I help youcook?”
“If you want,” Dylan said with a shrug. “There’s not much toit.”
Still, the motions of moving through a kitchen felt natural?—right?—even if the kitchen was unfamiliar. They worked side-by-side, grinding spices and browning chicken pieces in a huge pot. The air around them was warm, soothing, and Angelo slipped into a contenteddaze.
A little while later, Dylan slid his arms around him from behind. Angelo leaned back and arched his neck to look at him. Their lips were millimetres apart and Angelo longed for one of those kisses that set his world on fire, but Dylan simply smiled and knocked their heads gently together. “It’s got to simmer for a while now. Let me stick the rice cooker on and we can gochill.”
Chilling turned out to be a cold beer and lounging on the most comfortable sofa in theworld.
“It’s the same as the one in my flat,” Dylansaid.
“Is it?” Angelo tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “I’ve never been in your livingroom.”
“No, I suppose you haven’t.” Dylansniggered.
Angelo cracked an eye open to meet his smirk. “I don’t know what you’re giving me that look for. We haven’t fucked at yourplace.”
“I’m sure wewill.”
“Areyou?”
Dylan shrugged. “Yeah. I know we’re keeping things cool at the moment, but we’ll get back to the mad sex at somepoint.”
“So why aren’t we having mad sex right now?” Though Angelo couldn’t deny that it would take a crane to move him off the marshmallow-likecouch.
“Because.” Dylan sat up and swung a leg over Angelo’s waist, straddling him with his sinfully long legs. “There’s a lot going on, and I want whatever happens between us to be more than a co-dependent horn-fest. That’s why we’re here and not at myplace.”
Angelo gripped Dylan’s hips, trying not to picture what had happened the last time they’d struck this particular pose. “Codependent hornfest? Does that mean you’ve been using me forsex?”
“No!” Dylan swatted Angelo gently upside his head. “It means that we got the screwing bit down early and messed everything elseup.”
“Hmm. I think you spend too much time trying to figure thingsout.”
