But it seemed Luke was done with my deflection regardless of my sweet intentions. He clasped a heavy arm on my good shoulder and squeezed. “Look, it doesn’t matter, okay? About you and Gus, I mean. It’s none of my business. Just... I don’t know. Be careful with him. Shit gets to him more than he’ll ever let you see.”
I needed to know more. I needed him to elaborate on every facet of Gus that he knew and I didn’t. But before I could take a breath, an official with a clipboard interrupted us. It took Luke’s attention from me for a full half hour, and by the time she’d moved on, so had we.
We fudged together a vintage display that vaguely resembled the images Mia posted to her Instagram. I mean, it still looked like two roofers had done it, but it wasn’t nearly as terrible as I’d imagined.
Luke seemed surprised too. “We might get away with it. You think she’ll notice you trod on the calla lilies?”
“Yes. But we’ve got cheap fizz from the bargain booze shop, so I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”
“It wasn’t me who trod on them.”
“Yeah, but it’s not me who goes to bed with her, so...”
“You can run, but you can’t hide, bro. She’ll get you eventually.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I walked away from Luke to smoke, leaving him to deal with the first wave of people trickling into the fair. It had been a long time since I’d last shown my face at a Rushmere event, and I was already jumpy. In years gone by, I’d have been scouting the car park on the watch for unattended valuables, but I was a good boy these days.
At least, I was trying to be.
I found myself in the car park anyway. It was a five-minute walk from the green and already stuffed to the rafters. I wandered around, chain smoking and trying not to obsess over Gus.
I failed. Because I was obsessed with him, and it was a strange place to be. A frightening place, when I considered the fact that it meant absolutely nothing. He’d told me from the start that we couldn’t do all the shit we’d already done. That even a hundred years ago, or however long it had been, our lives were already too interwoven to deal with a casual hook-up.
But nothing we’d done felt casual. It hadn’t then, and it didn’t now. The way my heart sped up at the mere thought of him was the antonym of fucking casual.
I had to laugh at myself. If I didn’t, the ridiculous angst in my gut would spill out, and without my oldest bad habits for company, I wasn’t equipped to deal with that bullshit. I leant against the car park wall and finished my smoke, letting my gaze drift, hyper-focussing on random things to distract myself from the Gus bubble. A Range Rover was parked opposite in full sun, and movement on the backseat caught my eye. A copper-coloured dog came to the window and pressed its hot, panting face to the glass.
Glancing around, I stubbed my smoke out and approached it, scanning the car park for the owners. There were plenty of people milling around at the exits, but no one anywhere near the Range Rover. I stared at the distressed dog, my pulse picking up a pace that had nothing to do with Gus and everything to do with the fact that the dog would die if its owners didn’t come back soon.
Very fucking soon. I’d been sat on the wall for a while. Best-case scenario, the dog had already been locked in the car for twenty minutes.
The dog’s eyes were wild. Foam bubbles were beginning to form on its lolling tongue.
There was a broken bench by the wall, loose wrought-metal hanging from its rusted bolts. My hands itched, and anxiety surged in my veins.Fuck it.I dashed to the bench and yanked free the biggest hunk of metal.
Back at the car, I stripped my T-shirt, wrapped it round my hand, and smashed the back windshield.
