“Then sleep.” Rupert sat back to give Jodi room, though Jodi made no move to separate himself. “Get comfortable. You’ve got nowhere to be today.”
Jodi met Rupert’s gaze with glassy eyes. “No buses or musty clinics?”
“Nope. Not today.”
Rupert waited for Jodi to snap his frustration at everyone else knowing his day-to-day life better than he did. For him to growl that they were smothering him. That he felt like a child. But today in the dim early morning, Jodi’s anger didn’t come. Instead, he let loose a rare half smile that claimed another crack in Rupert’s heart, laid his head in Rupert’s lap, and fell asleep.
Rupert was spellbound. He’d spent too much time watching Jodi sleep, but this felt different. The more he stared at Jodi, the more the pain in Jodi’s face seemed to fade, and for a while, Rupert allowed himself to dream that nothing had changed, that the last six months really had been a nightmare ... a nightmare that was over. He let his hands ghost to Jodi’s hair; his jaw, half hidden by dark scruff; and his neck. Jodi’s pulse was strong beneath his fingertips and with the weight of a long night shift pulling him under, it wasn’t long before he found himself drifting into that sacred place where his dreams were real.
* * *
He woke to bright sunlight streaming through the living room window, a crick in his neck, and only a crumpled grey blanket to show Jodi had been there at all. Rupert raised the blanket to his face, inhaling its familiar scent. Indie missed the blanket almost as much as she missed Jodi.
A thud and a curse came from the bathroom. Rupert jumped up and darted into the hallway to find the shower running and the door closed. He tried the handle. It was locked. “Jodi? You okay in there?”
Silence. Rupert readied himself to barge the door down, but then Jodi’s voice filtered through over the noise of the running water. “I’m fine. Just having a fucking wash. Leave me alone.”
If only it were that easy. Jodi knew he wasn’t supposed to shower without Rupert or Sophie guarding the door. Rupert hovered, torn between kicking his way in anyway and taking the consequences, and retreating to the kitchen—a room Jodi rarely ventured into—and dealing with the fact that he’d fallen asleep with Jodi in his lap.
He plumped for a compromise and backed away from the door, sliding down the opposite wall to sit on the floor, ears straining for Jodi’s every move in the bathroom, which struck him ironic, given that Jodi had shown little interest in personal hygiene since the accident, showering only when Sophie bullied him into it, or because he wanted to get away from Rupert.
“You’re not my fucking mother.”
Rupert drew his legs up close and rested his elbows on his knees, surveying the cluttered hallway. Before the accident, Jodi had driven himself half-mad keeping the piles of coats and shoes to his obsessive order, but Rupert had let Jodi’s standards slide. There were piles of shit everywhere, and he hadn’t been able to bear to dig Jodi’s once beloved Henry hoover out of the cupboard. Bloody thing never worked for him anyway. Jodi’s favourite boots caught his eye, the tatty brown leather ones he’d often worn with the skinny jeans that made Rupert’s head spin. Rupert hadn’t had a sexual thought in months, but those boots had always done something to him. Jodi had been wearing them when they met, a damp winter night that seemed so distant now that Rupert was almost sure it had happened to someone else. Not that it was appropriate to reminisce about that shit anyway. Perving over Jodi when he couldn’t even remember fancying blokes? When he was still so unwell he couldn’t shower alone?Nice one, dickhead.
The shower shut off. Rupert held his breath as he listened to Jodi climb out of the bath, something that always set his nerves on edge. The thought of Jodi slipping and cracking his fragile skull on the sink kept Rupert awake at night. Usually, he stood in the doorway, averting his eyes to give Jodi privacy while he tracked his movements, but now, with the door closed, he couldn’t even hear if Jodi’s feet had safely found purchase on the bath mat.
A wave of nausea washed over him. Was this how it was going to be now? Or was Jodi just in an odd mood? There was no way of knowing. Jodi had become as unpredictable as a London summer, and Rupert was no more at ease when he heard Jodi turn on the tap and rattle in the cabinet for his toothbrush.
It seemed like a lifetime had passed before the bathroom door finally cracked open. Rupert scrambled to his feet, his nerves still performing a painful dance in his gut. Jodi peered out. His eyes met Rupert’s, and he frowned, but it wasn’t his usual irritated scowl. Instead, he looked troubled.
“What are you doing?”
Rupert shifted awkwardly. “Waiting for you.”
“Why?”
“To make sure you’re okay.”
“Why wouldn't I be?” Jodi edged out of the bathroom, dressed in the same clothes he’d slept in, clutching his wet towel in front of him. “You don’t have to loiter in the hall when I go for a piss.”
“You weren’t having a piss. You were in the shower.” Rupert kept his words mild, but Jodi’s tone grated him. How many times did he have to fucking explain himself? Like it wasn’t enough that the life they’d built together was lying in piles of unwashed clothes all around them. Like it wasn’t enough that Jodi didn’t give a shit if Rupert snapped at him or not. That he didn’t care if Rupert existed.
“I’m going to bed,” Jodi muttered. “See you tomorrow.”
“It’s eleven o’clock in the morning.”
“So? You’re always telling me to rest.”
Rupert raised his hands in surrender. “See you later, then.”
Jodi shuffled off. Rupert watched him go, wondering what the fuck he’d missed this time. Jodi hadn’t slept in his bed for days, choosing instead to sleep bundled up on the couch. What was so attractive about it now?
As ever, Rupert had no idea. He drifted to the living room. The plastic box containing Jodi’s medication was on the coffee table. Rupert glanced at the clock. Jodi was due a dose of antiseizure drugs within the hour. He debated following Jodi into the bedroom, but his courage failed him. It could wait half an hour while he took a shower of his own and tried to get his head around the strangest morning he’d had since Jodi came home.
He stripped off his T-shirt and tossed it toward the basket overflowing with dirty clothes, then bent to peel off his socks. A noise from the doorway startled him. He looked up to find Jodi staring at him, his expression a dark molten mix of embarrassment and something Rupert couldn’t quite decipher. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing! Fuck’s sake. Stop bloody asking me that.”
