“Yeah,” Elliot sighed.
They went back to floating in silence, hands intertwined, warm water lapping around them, steam rising into the cool night sky. When the quiet settled over the pool and the rest of St. Moritz, Elliot kissed him again, and Jackson thought he might drown in it.
Chapter 18
Elliot
St Moritz, Switzerland, April 12th, 4 Months to the Olympics
The final day in St. Moritz dawned brightly, but the cloud hanging over Elliot as he stretched in his bed overpowered the cheery April sunshine.
They were going back today.
Back to London.
Back to reality.
And with a few weeks of tapering ahead of him, Elliot wasn’t sure how he was going to distract himself from the precarious emotional situation he’d landed himself in without running.
Some of the friends they’d made during the trip were on the train with them, but Jackson and Elliot separated themselves from the group, staying in their own little world. Their heads were bent together as they talked about nothing of consequence and scrolled through their phones, showing each other stupid videos and memes to pass the time.
“Holy fuck,” Jackson exclaimed suddenly, staring down at his phone.
Elliot lifted his head from Jackson’s shoulder, where it had been resting for the past half hour or so. “What happened?”
“I got…I got a brand deal,” Jackson replied.
Elliot smiled. “That’s great!” Though he noted the lack of emails in his own inbox.
“Ell, it’s…it’s huge. I’ve never seen sums like this before.”
Something clenched in Elliot’s heart. He was happy for Jackson—that was part of the draw of the Olympics anyway; the potential for big sponsorship deals—but he really fucking needed something like that to happen to him, and the silence from his dad’s office spoke volumes. It felt like one more way Jackson’s life was perfect in all the ways his was lacking. He tried to choke down the feeling.
“What are you going to do with the cash?”
“Buy a fuck-off massive car, one of those SUVs you always see in American films,” Jackson replied. Mirth was shining in his eyes, though.
“Seriously?” Elliot asked. He was about seventy-five per cent sure Jackson was joking, but it was hard to be certain.
“Of course not.” Jackson bumped his shoulder. “This should cover Beth’s tuition for uni, which’ll be a massive weight off my parents and about the only way they’d ever let me help them.”
“They don’t like you helping out?” Elliot asked. It occurred to him that all he knew about his bo—about Jackson’s family, was that they loved him unconditionally, the way families were meant to.
“They hate it,” Jackson answered with fond exasperation. “You’d think they’d be more willing now Dad can’t work, but no.” He sighed.
There was an edge to his usually playful tone, though, and Elliot couldn’t help but pick at it. “Why can’t he work?”
Jackson faltered. “I… He’s not well.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I should have told you, but it’s hard to talk about. Only Anders and Darius know.”
For some reason, that pierced a hole in Elliot’s heart. He wanted to be the one Jackson came to. Not Eric Anders or Darius Hewitt. He wanted to be everything to Jackson Jennings.
And that was going to be a problem. Because this was meant to be casual, and Elliot knew he couldn’t ever give him more than that, no matter how much he wanted to.
Jackson continued. “My dad’s sick. It’s from his work, but they can’t prove it, so there’s not much compensation. And he’s fine for now, but it could get worse. That’s why I hate being away so much. I can’t help but think if I were closer to home, I could help out more, take some of the stress off my mum.”
Elliot squeezed his hand. “That’s why you’re always checking your phone,” he mumbled, mostly to himself.
“Sorry. I don’t want to dump all my problems on you.” Jackson turned to look out the window.
