I throw my head back, looking up at the ceiling.
“I fell in love with Oliver on this sofa.”
Caiden laughs, reaching out a hand for me. Sliding my palm into his, I let him pull me to my feet. “I won’t tell you whatI’vedone on this sofa.”
I laugh, the feeling settling happily in my bones, and for the first time in forty-eight hours I’m certain everything is going to be okay.
Chapter 38
Oliver
The beer in my hand is cold, the glass wet with condensation. Bringing it to my lips, I take a sip, enjoying the bitter taste on my tongue. Zander is telling us about the holiday he’s booked in the summer. Some of the other guys chime in with their plans, and I listen intently, not offering anything but a nod at the appropriate times.
It’s Zander’s birthday, and he practically dragged us all here after work for a pint. I couldn’t find an excuse to get out of it – not that I wanted to. Being here, with my boss and my colleagues, is far nicer than sitting alone at home, waiting. It’s not lost on me, or any of the guys around the table, that this is the first time I’ve gone out with them after work. At some point, I made the unconscious decision that I don’t want to push people away anymore. I want friends. I want nights out with the people I work with. Hell, I even want more double dates with Caiden and Jamie.
The reminder of our night clubbing has me reaching for my phone, opening to the last message I sent Darius. The one I am still waiting for him to respond to.
Me:Did I ruin us?
I could dwell on it, but I’ve made the effort to be here tonight, so I pocket my phone, turning my focus back on the group and the conversation.
“Can I get you another drink?” Zander asks, motioning towards my half empty glass.
“No, definitely not – it’s your birthday. I’ll get the next round.”
There’s cheers from my three colleagues and an arm is slung over my shoulder, steering me towards the bar.
We have one more round before Zander excuses himself to join his girlfriend for dinner. I say my goodbyes too, making my way to the train station. My body aches as I climb the stairs to the platform and I grimace, biting the inside of my cheek.
The paramedic who examined me in the flat suggested I ride with Darius to A&E so that I could be more thoroughly checked, but I declined, wanting to give him the space he clearly wanted. So, I made my way by cab to an A&E department closer to my place. After a four-hour wait, x-rays and a thorough exam, I left with a glue strip over my cheek where Floyd’s wedding ring tore the skin, and a body covered in bruises, including some deep purple patches over my ribs. But worse than that, I left not knowing where Darius and I stand. I still don’t.
I get that he’s pissed at me – I overstepped. But I cannot bring myself to regret it. Not when I know that he’s safe now.
My journey home is uneventful, and by the time I reach my road, hunger is tugging at my belly. I didn’t eat much today – a protein bar on the way to work and an apple at lunchtime – so the three drinks I had at the pub are sloshing uncomfortably in my stomach. Before I reach my flat, I stop at a takeaway andorder a chip roll and a can of soda, then, white plastic bag in hand, I make my way home.
Taking the stairs slower than I usually would, I huff a breath at the bite of pain that flames around my ribs with each movement. At the top of the stairs, I turn left into the corridor that leads to the two flats on this floor, my feet coming to halt when I catch sight of the man sitting on my doorstep.
Darius has his knees up, and his arms crossed over them. His head is bent, but he looks up when he hears me approach. His beautiful blue eyes – the ones I see in my dreams – connect with mine and my heart skips a beat.
Fuck, I’ve missed him.
“Are you stalking me now?” I ask, digging in my back pocket for my key, the plastic bag dangling from my wrist. “Could have sworn you need a key to open the lobby door.”
“Maybe I am.” Darius grins. “Your kind neighbour let me in.” Using one hand, he pushes to stand, moving to the side so that I can unlock. In silence, I open up and walk inside, the air shifting around me as Darius follows, shutting the door behind us.
In the kitchen, I put my phone, keys, and wallet on the counter, along with my chip roll. Then I turn to face the love of my life.
He looks good. Better than he did when I last saw him. I ache to pull him into my arms, to kiss every inch of his body and never let him go.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask, hating how stiff the air between us is.
“No. Thanks.”
“Okay.”
Darius makes an uncomfortable sound somewhere between a huff and a chuckle. “Even when we were strangers, it didn’t feel as awkward as this.”
“I knew where we stood then,” I reply. “You told me before I’d even walked through the door. Now,” I shake my head, “now I’m not so –”
