“Atmospherics?” I tapped the wooden structure underneath my bed. “I think the hot tub blew a fuse. I couldn’t be bothered walking two miles to the cellar to fix it.”
“You have a hot tub up here? You’ve been holding out on me.”
Petey stumbled up the last few stairs and sat on the edge of my bed. His boiler suit was tied around his waist, his vest rumpled, the pale white skin of his arms glowing gold in the candlelight. My breath caught. He was spectacularly beautiful—like a bleached-blond angel.
“How’d it go?” I asked.
“Armando announced their engagement at the ball. Everyone’s drunk. Indira put the wedding off till Friday so they can sleep off today’s excitement—and so the crew can get some rest.”
I smiled. “Good TV, though, I bet?”
“GreatTV.”
He yawned. I presented Petey with a fist to bump, and he duly bumped it. I held my arms out, gesturing for Petey to come to me.
“You do not want to hug me,” he said. “I amripe.”
“The three best smells in the world are, in no particular order, a stable, a dirty kit bag after a long bus ride home from an away game, and—I’m willing to bet you any money—your armpits right now.”
“You’re a stink pig?” Petey’s eyebrows bounced. “Yeah, actually, that checks out.”
I had no idea what he meant. All I cared about was the fact Petey was smiling and crawling up the bed towards me on his knees. He lay down beside me, sinking into my body. He smelt of sweat and pine needles and second-hand cigarette smoke. Itwisted around him and buried my face in the milky white flesh of his pit. In a loud, exaggerated manner, I breathed it in.
“Well?” he said.
“Perfection.”
“Liar. I should go for a shower.” He sat up to go, but I pulled him back by his arm.
“Don’t,” I said. I needed to explain. I couldn’t chicken out on something two nights in a row. That wasn’t the way the British won two world wars. “About my mother?—”
“It’s OK.” He moved to sit, facing me, on the edge of the bed—one leg folded in front of him, the other dangling off the side.
“It’s not,” I said.
“No, it really is. It helped, actually.”
“My mother has never helped any situation. Ever. Literally famous for it.”
“I didn’t understand before,” Petey said, his eyes sincere. “But I’ve been thinking about it, and… I think I get it now.”
My heart started to race. Got what? What did he think he understood? I sat upright, crossing my legs. I rested my hand on Petey’s ankle. He put his hands on my knee.
“So we’re clear: Yes, William, I like you. I think you’re gorgeous and hilarious and fascinating, and I really,reallywant you to kiss me. But I want you to know… there’s no hurry. I’ve realised, since getting to know you, that you’re worth waiting for. We’ll move at your pace. There’s no pressure.”
My breath quickened. Petey’s eyes were looking directly into my soul. I’d never felt soseenby anyone before. I knew, in that moment, it had to be now. I reached up and felt the exquisite soft skin of his cheek with my hand, traced the line of his jaw with my fingertips.
“I…”
“It’s OK.”
“I…”
I closed my eyes and leant towards him, waiting for my lips to connect with his. Instead, I felt Petey’s hand slide into mine and turn it. His hot breath and tender kiss grazing the palm of my hand. I opened my eyes.
“What is it?” I said softly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing at all.” He smiled. “But… I have an idea. Do you trust me?”
