“All of it... except, I didn’t turn up at your work onpurpose.”
“No? So why did you sit through a twenty-minute interview without saying something then? That’s messed up to the nth degree. Now, get the fuck away from myhouse.”
Dylan crunched his key in the lock and opened the door. He marched inside and the door swung shut in Angelo’sface.
Defeated, Angelo backed away, the ache in his body returning with every step. Somehow, being close to Dylan had distracted him from the reason he’d wound up back in Romford without a penny to his name in the first place. He sank down on yet another nearby bench and put his head in his hands. Jesus. What the fuck had he just done? If Dylan had any sense, he’d call the rozzers. And being carted off by the police would just about top off Angelo’s day?—week, month. Fuck it. The whole damn year had beenshit.
The temptation to slump down on the bench and fall asleep was strong?—it wouldn’t be the first time he’d slept outside?—but it began to rain, and Angelo was perversely glad of the chill that came with it. The wind rattled through his tired bones and matched his mood. He took a deep breath and stood, but a hand closed around his arm before he could take astep.
“Why are youhere?”
Angelo turned. Dylan was behind him, dressed in ripped jeans and an Iron Maiden T-shirt. It was such a contrast from the smart casual he’d worn to work that Angelo simply stared, as transfixed as he’d been when he’d found Dylan naked and waiting forhim.
“Well?” Dylan shoved his floppy blond hair out of his face. His wrist was covered in distressed metal bracelets and grungy festival bands. His hand was elegant and smooth. Angelo wanted to kissit.
He stepped back, raising his own hands in surrender. “I said I was sorry. I had no idea you’d be at my appointment this morning, and I only followed you when you got off the bus in front of me to apologise for losing my shit at you. I’m not a fucking stalker, and I’msorry, okay? You’ll never see me again, Iswear.”
“Angelo?—?”
“Mate, I’m embarrassed enough. Don’t make me say it again.” Angelo turned on his heel and walked away as the heavens opened in earnest. The clusterfuck his day had become felt surreal, and despite being sick of his own four walls, he couldn’t wait to get home and pretend it had never happened. Hell, he’d even give up on the memory of fucking Dylan if it meant he could escape the cold impatience in Dylan’s eyesnow.
“Angelo,wait.”
Angelo kept walking. Fat raindrops soaked into his clothes and ran down his face. His one remaining pair of Nikes squelched in the puddles. But still he recoiled when Dylan grabbed his arm. “Get offme.”
“Why? You followed me all the way home and nowI’msupposed to leaveyoualone?”
“You told me to fuck off, so I’m fuckingoff.”
“So why did you get in my face in the firstplace?”
“I already toldyou.”
“I know, butwhy? Why do you care how I felt about what you did in the office? It’s not like we ever had to see each otheragain.”
“Isn’t it?” Angelo cast a pointed glance around them. “We live in the same town. We’d have run into each othereventually.”
“Would we, though? My dad has lived on Faringdon Avenue for twenty years and I’ve never seen you before. I even used to buy lunch from the deli when I worked at Jack’s Barber Shop. I can picture your father, your mum... even someone I think is your sister, but neveryou.”
“That’s because I wasn’tthere.”
“What?Never?”
“Not since I wasfifteen.”
“Whynot?”
“What do you care?” It was oddly satisfying to throw Dylan’s question back in his face, and it seemed that Dylan had no better answer for it thanAngelo.
“I don’tunderstand... I don’t getit.”
Angelo wiped rain out of his face. “Getwhat?”
“How this fucking happened!” Dylan’s shout rang out, but no one looked their way, and after a moment, he tugged on his hair again. “Look, I’ve been going to the club for a couple of years now, and there’s no way that the other night was the first time you’ve fucked someone in the basement rooms?—I can always tell?—so it seems a little messed up that you screw me once and then turn up everywhere I go a weeklater.”
Angelo’s brain didn’t work as fast as it used to, especially on days like this that wouldn’t just end already. “Are you asking me if I engineered fucking you and then stalked you eversince?”
“I don’t know what I’m asking. I’m just confused. And freaked out. I’ve never seen anyone I’ve played with outside of theclub.”
