“Oh yeah, how is Mopsy?” Tabby asked, bending to pat the dogs far more effectively.
He felt a split second of terror, then remembered he’d left his parents’ ancient breeding spaniel with extra food, plenty of water and access to the backyard through the doggy door. Besides, Mopsy loved nothing more than being left alone to sleep all day. “She’s good,” he mumbled. “Hanging out.”
“Cool.” Tabby grabbed his hand again. “You want to eat?”
He shook his head, praying she’d lead him to the couch and let him crash. Instead, she steered him through the living room, full of driftwood sculptures and brightly coloured paintings, toward a part of the house he’d never been to.
“Tabby, what’s?—”
“Shhh,” she hissed. “Shut your whorish mouth. And walk lighter. Walk like you’re on a cloud in heaven, and every step might kill Jesus!”
Toby had no idea what that meant. The dogs were scrabbling all over the hardwood floors, and he could barely hear her. But he shut up and tried to lift his feet better, following her down the hallway, his overworked heart hammering against his ribcage. Surely, she wasn’t… Was she…?
Tabby paused in front of a door with a neon pink sign flashing,‘Hot Slut.’
All the spit in Toby’s mouth evaporated. “Tabs…?”
“Cool, huh?” she said, pointing to the sign. “I made it out of old nightclub stuff from Gumtree.”
She pulled a silver chain from around her neck and unlocked the old-fashioned keyhole. Nudging the dogs out of the way, she opened the door a crack, and Toby saw a dark four-poster bed and a ceiling mobile that looked like it had been made out of tin foil and pipe cleaners.
“You can’t… you want me to stay in your room?” he asked, head swimming worse than ever.
“For a few hours,” she whispered, shoving him inside. “But stay quiet, okay? I’m not allowed to have guys in here after Joel sleepwalked into Sam’s room and pissed all over her wardrobe and childhood drawings and passport.”
“Shit, but I’m not here as a guy, right? We’re just friends.”
“You’re still a drunk dude.” Tabby sighed. “Poor Sam, no one has any respect for her belongings.”
Toby staggered in, trying to take in as many details as possible, as fast as possible. If this was his one chance to be in Tabby’s bedroom, he wanted to remember everything. The gremlin figurines. The piles of books and underwear. The old-fashioned perfume bottles on the dresser with the poofy squeeze things on the end...
“Friendly assist!” Tabby pushed his chest, sending him sprawling back onto her bed. “Go to sleep, dude. You need it.”
Toby moaned. The cool of her silk sheets felt like heaven on his overheated skin. “But my shoes… my belt?”
“Who cares?”
And who did care? Too happy and in too much pain to overanalyse, he toed off his knockoff R.M. Williams boots and lay face down on Tabby’s bed. It smelled like her: blue roses, indigo sunsets, pools of sapphires in moonlight…
There was a scraping sound, and the room was plunged into darkness. Lo-fi music began to play from somewhere, and he wondered if Tabby was getting changed for work. Tugging off her tight dress, pulling on clean underwear... A hot throb ran down his body, and he felt himself get hard. Disgusted, he screwed his eyes shut. He wasn’t that guy. Would rather hang than be that guy.
“Tobes?” Tabby whispered.
“Mmmfff?”
“Can I sleep too? I’m super tired.”
His heart kickstarted at the thought of them sleeping side-by-side. “I… yeah. Don’t you have work?”
“Nah, just Sam and Noah.”
“Do you want me to get up? Sleep on the floor?”
“Don’t be stupid; there’s enough room for both of us.”
Toby buried his head in a pillow so she couldn’t see his face and find him out. He was fully hard now. No matter what happened, he wasn’t going to turn over.
The bed sagged as Tabby climbed aboard. She was right; it was big enough that they weren’t touching, but another hot pulse ran down his spine and into his balls. He swallowed, wishing he could shower or at least brush his teeth.
