“Yeah. I still hate it—it’s like I’m waiting for the engine to cut out and blow up all the time—but it’s not as shit as it used to be.”
“Do you think maybe…?” Shay bit his lip. “Do you think if you had some help it could ever not be shit at all? I mean, I know it’d never go away, but you shouldn’t have to suffer, Ollie. What happened to you wasn’t your fault.”
“What you live with isn’t your fault either.”
“I was born with it, and I’m not traumatised by being diabetic. It’s not the same thing at all, and you know it.”
Ollie did know it, but the suffocating cloud that came with talking about things he never talked about was starting to overwhelm him. Shay’s touch tied him down to the world, but he needed more. “I woke up after the accident with this grindstone churning in my head, telling me everything was broken. Some days I still feel it grinding.”
“But not every day?”
“Not so much when you’re around.”
Shay’s smile was sad. Ollie pried Shay’s hands from his knees and twined their fingers together, tugging until Shay straightened enough for Ollie to kiss him. Shay gasped. The spark between them ignited, and this was a fire Ollie wasn’t afraid of. He’d put a T-shirt on while he’d cooked. Shay took it off and tossed it away.
The kiss deepened, only for Shay to pull back. He stood and vanished. Panic seized Ollie, but Shay was back before he could blink, brandishing all he needed to make Ollie forget everything except how to feel.
And how to fly.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When itwas over, they lay panting and naked on the couch. Ollie trembled. Shay hadn’t been as cautious with him this time, and Ollie hadn’t let him try, as though he’d craved pain and pleasure to free him from something else.
Shay understood that. Losing himself in Ollie was magic, and as release had pulsed through him and into Ollie, he’d almost forgotten the conversation that had brought them there.
Almost, because he’d never forget Ollie’s haunted gaze.
He pressed his palm over Ollie’s thumping heart. Ollie opened his eyes. He smiled, and Shay smiled too. “You’re back.”
Ollie chuckled drowsily. “That’s the second time you’ve fucked me into a coma.”
“To be fair, I did it to myself the first time too.”
“Uh-huh.” Ollie shifted onto his side, wincing. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad this didn’t happen on the bus.”
“Me too.” Shay kissed Ollie’s cheek, then got up, padding nude across the room to the bag he’d abandoned when he’d first arrived at the flat. Inside were his harmonica, penny whistle, and the instrument Ollie had gifted him.
He brought the unnamed instrument back to the couch. “You still won’t tell me what it’s called?”
“Nope. I’d like to see you play it, though.”
Shay snorted and turned the instrument over in his hands. It was the size of a ukulele and had strings, but it also had a wind-up handle, accordion-like keys, decks, and tuning pegs. It was a melting pot of the familiar and the downright bizarre, and he didn’t have the first clue where to start. “I’ll play it if you play me some guitar.”
Ollie rolled his eyes. “I’m not playing the guitar for you—I’m shite. Give me that thing, though. I might still be able to crank something out of it.”
Shay relinquished the mutant accordion and watched, fascinated, as Ollie ran his hands over it, apparently more at home with it than he wanted Shay to know.
“This is a small one,” Ollie said. “Traditionally, they can be huge. Some even take two people to play.”
“If you want me to play with you, sweetheart, you’ve just gotta ask.”
“Very funny.”
“I try.”
“Try harder.”
“Harder. Right there.”Shay shivered as his mind took him back, unbidden, to their lovemaking on the couch minutes ago. He fought hard to focus on how Ollie was handling the strange instrument, but it was… hard.Dammit.“Um, so how do you play it?”
