With Bella on my mind, I check the time and relief washes over me as I realise it’s not that late. That despite feeling as though I’ve been asleep in Aidan’s arms my whole life, it’s actually only been an hour.
I disentangle us but don’t go far. Can’t, because I’m enraptured: I can’t take my eyes off him. I stare at Aidan all the time but rarely without being caught. With him fast asleep, head tipped back, features smooth, I take my fill of him, undisturbed.
God, he’s beautiful. Even his imperfections make my head spin. I trace his jaw with my fingertip and then the jagged scar along my own. Usually, it’s enough to ground me, to remind me of my place in the world, but in the peaceful darkness of Aidan’s quiet bedsit, I don’t care for the dingy hole I dug for myself so many years ago. I don’t care about anything except how it feels to be this close to him.
I touch him again, dragging my thumb over his cheek, and cupping his face in my steady hand. Cos that’s the other thing about being with Aidan—I don’t shake.
One hand is joined by the other, and before long I’m tangling my fingers in his hair, willing him to wake up so I can lose myself in his stormy gaze. Or maybe that’s where I’ll find myself. Either way, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.
“Aidan.”
I whisper, but somehow he hears me. He stirs and my name is on his lips as he opens his eyes.
“Ludo.”
I bite my lip as he acclimatises to me leaning over him on his couch, invading his personal space without invitation, but as I open my mouth to apologise and shift to back up, he seizes my wrists and pulls me on top of him.
He’s broader than me, and my battered bones creak as I straddle him, but we fit together. I press my forehead against his and he wraps his arms around me. I want him to kiss me, but instinct tells me he won’t. That if I want this, I need to reach out and take it.
My hands find his face again. I kiss him, but it’s not the same. Our lips meet and stars explode, as though all the sweetness that’s come before has been used up. The scruff on his face scrapes my skin, and the roughness heats my blood. I clutch at him and kiss him harder. Aidan groans. A sound escapes me too, but I’m so far gone I don’t catch it.
He’s wearing too many clothes.
The errant thought strikes a match under the desire I’ve carried for so long. I twist my fingers into his T-shirt. My thumbs graze the heated skin of his abdomen and all I can think of is stripping him bare so I can feel him all over me.
Aidan slips his tongue into my mouth. I go limp and cognitive function abandons me. For long moments my world is narrowed to the slippery velvet invading my mouth and the sparks of magic it sets off in my soul.
“Whoa.” Aidan’s voice is rougher than ever as he pulls away. “We better stop this shit before it gets out of control.”
He’s not out of control. He’s riled up, flushed and breathing hard, but there’s caution too—something I’m grateful for despite the fact that every fibre of my being is screaming at him to throw me down and—
“Ludo.”
There’s no question in the way he says my name. He isn’t asking me if I’m okay, and I’m thankful for that too. So much of my life is wasted checking and testing my emotions. Right now I don’t need that. I just need him to keep gazing at me like I’m his most precious thing. “I should probably go home.”
He nods. “I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.”
I have no argument. We leave the bedsit. Cool evening air hits me and the razor-sharp edges of the inferno we started on his couch soften a little. I want to take his hand, but I don’t know if he’s into queer PDAs, so I don’t, and we walk side-by-side, elbows bumping every other step until he slips an arm around me.
We reach my house far too soon. I open my mouth to invite him in. He silences me with a slow kiss, backing me against my front door.
My street is well lit and full of neighbours with twitching curtains, but it’s clear Aidan doesn’t care, so I don’t either, and I kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him, cursing the fact that the oxygen in my lungs is finite.
I run out of air and pull back. “I—”
Aidan taps a finger to my lips. “Call me soon.”
And then he’s gone, limping into the shadows and taking another slice of my heart with him.
Nineteen
Aidan
I lean across the table. “What’s a tagine when it’s at home?”
