GERALD
“Fuck.”
Daylight streams through the chinks in the bedroom curtains, feeling far too bright. I whip around to check the time and swear again. Too bloody comfortable entwined in each other, we’ve slept through the alarm. “Fuck!” I give Alaric a none-too-gentle shake. I should be halfway to work by now. “Al, you need to get up. You’re going to miss your train.”
We fly out of bed like it’s on fire. I’m not sure Alaric’s even properly awake as he stumbles to the shower, until he cackles as I trip over my own feet, hopping into my trousers while simultaneously skating the beard trimmer over my chin.
“Smooth, Big G, very smooth,” he calls over his shoulder.
“This never used to happen!” I shout back through the open door, adding a couple of swear words. I’ve a two-hour procurement meeting starting in… bugger, thirty-nine minutes. My tender backside’s going to love those hard chairs.
“What, back in the days before Alaric Alvin gave you the best rogering of your life?”
“The only rogering! I have nothing to compare it with!”
I’m still smiling as I snatch up my wallet and phone. As I reach for them, Alaric’s phone screen lights up. I roll my eyes. Two new texts from Stefan. He’s starting early. It flashes again, this time with a missed call.
“Stefan’s messaged you,” I yell over the noise of the running water. “And phoned.”
“Can you see what he wants for me? Probably to tell me what time he’s finishing work tonight, so I can pop over. The PIN’s 6969.”
Of course it is, the horny little devil. What an unexpected joyride my life has become. Grinning, I thumb the numbers.
“He says to come over at about 6.30,” I read out. “After work. And to bring—“ My eyes freeze on the words, rereading them as if they might change the second time. But they don’t.
“He says bring what?”
I must have been staring at the phone longer than I thought, as I don’t notice Alaric switch off the shower, nor that he’s back in the bedroom, naked and towelling off his hair. Deep, instinctive dread sinks into my gut. Even though I knew this would happen, watching it unravel exactly how I feared lands like a heavy punch.
“He says bring all your stuff, if you like. Your old room’s yours again.” I hand the phone over, wishing I’d never picked it up in the first place. “He says he’ll rent it to you half price for being such a good mate.”
As he stares at the screen, a storm rolls in behind Alaric’s eyes. I can’t bear to look and turn away. “I’ve got to go. I have a meeting at eight that I haven’t prepped for yet.”
He gives me a second, plenty of time for me to grab my car keys and get halfway to the front door. A pair of Alaric’s shoes obstruct my path. His home hoodie hangs carelessly over the arm of the sofa. My vision blurs.
“Gerald, wait!”
“Can’t. I’ll be late. See you around, I guess.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“You can post the key through the letterbox on your way out.”
“What? Listen. Just listen to me! Do you…do you think I’m really about to gather my stuff, right this minute, and move out today? That’s crazy. I would never do that. I’ll go over there tonight, of course I will, but not for that. I don’t… listen, I’ll come back afterwards, and we can talk. I?— “
I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.“This is what you’ve wanted the whole time, isn’t it? You should becelebrating.”
“Celeb—? Gerald, please don’t be like this!”
“Like what?” God, I’m a twat when I’m wounded. Why talk things through like the serious sensible adult I am, ninety-nine percent of the time, when I can armour up my defensive hackles as easily as flicking a switch?
Alaric throws his arms out wide despairingly. “Don’t be so…like…closed off. Talk to me. Tell me what’s upsetting you. Me moving out doesn’t mean goodbye. We’ll still see each other. Fuck each other too, hopefully. At least until you find your elusive Mr Right. If that’s what you want. Unless you…” His hand flies to his mouth. “Oh my God. Do you actually want me to move back with Stefan? Is that it? Is that why we’ve not talked this through yet? I mean, we’ve talked about everything else.”
“You never stop fucking talking.”
“So maybe it’s your turn. Talk to me now. Or tonight after work. Because I will come back here after visiting Stefan. Promise. If you’ll… we’re still mates, right? Even if the fucking isn’t what you want? You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
My hand is on the door handle. I blow out a breath, trying not to panic. Or cry. Or clutch whichever crumbs he’s throwing me. I might as well tell myself not to breathe while I’m at it.
