* * *
They gottiny mugs of espresso and an Italian all-day breakfast each. Ollie hadn’t eaten properly in days. He figured he wasn’t hungry, but the sight of the heaping plate proved him wrong.
He watched Shay check his blood sugar and inject himself with an insulin pen. “Does that hurt?”
Shay shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s my normal, so I don’t really notice, but I suppose it must do. Getting blood from my fingers bothers me more, though. They get sore from playing guitar anyway.”
“Did you play guitar at university?”
“What? For the week I was there?” Shay let his T-shirt drop, robbing Ollie of his pale abdomen. “A bit, but it was the flute that got me into Goldsmiths.”
“Goldsmiths?”
“Yup. I scored a scholarship, then ditched it. My parents were so proud… not.”
“I bet they’re proud now.” Ollie spoke without thinking and winced. “Sorry… I mean, I bet your mum was proud of you.”
Shay reached for a slice of olive-oil-soaked toasted ciabatta. “She was. Eventually. I broke her heart to begin with, though. Working class Derby boy smashing it in London, prestigious orchestras and all that…. She loved that shit.”
Ollie tried to picture Shay in smart clothes, toeing the line in a classical orchestra. Couldn’t. It just didn’t fit. “Any regrets?”
“Never. Life’s too short.”
Clichéd quotes got on Ollie’s nerves, but there was nothing cliché about Shay. He waited for Shay to start eating, then followed suit, inhaling half his food before he raised his eyes to find Shay watching him. “What?”
“Nothing. Just never seen you eat before. I was starting to think you ran on coffee and fags alone.”
He was more right than Ollie cared to admit. “You forgot beer. And rum. I like a bit of that.”
“I’ve seen you drink.”
Of course he had. Ollie’s lips burned as though the kisses they’d shared had happened moments ago, not days. His leg shifted instinctively to find Shay’s under the table, and he caught it at the last second.
He ate more food, but the crispy prosciutto and roasted tomatoes were heavy in his stomach, and his espresso cup was empty. “I’m sorry about that.”
“About what?”
“About snogging you when I knew better.”
“Better than what?” Shay set his elbows on the table and leaned forwards. “We’re both adults.”
“I know, but this job is important to me. And look how messed-up things already are.”
“You don’t think they’d be better if we let shit happen?”
Ollie poked at a chilli-laced fried egg. It did nothing to stop him falling down the vortex of Shay’s molten gaze. “We can’t do that.”
“Why not? I mean, I’m not trying to persuade you to fancy me, but I don’t want things to be weird between us. I like you, Ollie. Even if you are a bit of a dick.”
A hysterical chuckle escaped Ollie. “You can’t just tell me you like me and leave it at that.”
“What can I say? The truth falls out of me—can’t fucking help it.” Shay dropped his gaze and returned to his food.
Guilt warred with engrained bad habits, and Ollie’s heart beat too fast. Too loud. Too hard. He couldn’t breathe.
He pushed his plate away. “You asked what was bothering me… like you knew it was something outside of the mess we’ve made here.”
“Uh-huh.” Shay didn’t look up. “You left the bus like a rat in a fire. I was scared you wouldn’t come back.”
