“Please. Maybe the kettle too?” Rhys looked at Angelo again. “When did you last eat?”
“I don’t know.”
“On it.” Jevon disappeared again.
Rhys moved onto Angelo’s other hand. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Um . . .” Angelo leaned back on the couch, frowning as he struggled to process the question. “Coming home from work, maybe? I was fine all day, then I fell off the bus.”
“What day was that?”
“Friday. It’s the only day I take the bus back from Stratford.”
Friday. It was Monday now, which meant that Angelo had been ill and alone all weekend. “Where’s Dylan?”
“Germany. Munich, I think.” Colour was beginning to return to Angelo’s cheeks. “Some Brexit training thing for work.”
“Sounds like Dylan.”
“Yeah. Is he okay? I can’t remember when I last spoke to him.”
“He called me last night.” Rhys ducked his head guiltily. “But I didn’t answer. If I had, I’d have been here sooner. He had to call Harry in the end to wake my arse up this morning.”
“Harry?”
“Yeah.”
Angelo blinked slowly. “I’m so fucking out of it, I thought you were Harry when I first saw you. I’m so sorry you had a stranger dragging you out of bed.”
Jevon came back as Angelo was speaking. He handed two mugs to Rhys, one with tea, the other with tomato soup. In his other hand was a plate of toast. He set it within Angelo’s reach, and Rhys wondered if he’d leave again.
He didn’t.
Rhys held the soup to Angelo’s lips and helped him drink some, grateful that Jevon hadn’t made it too hot, then he set it aside and took a deep breath. “Yeah. About that whole stranger thing.”
Angelo accepted the mug of tea. “What about it? Harry’s a good bloke. If he was shitty, it would only be because—”
Rhys held up his hand. “He wasn’t shitty—at least no more than I probably deserve—and that’s because he’s my brother, man.”
“What?”
“You heard. Harry Foster. Physiotherapist. Spinach freak. New-found horse fanatic. He’s my little brother.”
Angelo opened his mouth. Shut it again. “I don’t understand.”
“That makes two of us. If it’s any consolation, I didn’t know how we were all connected until this morning, and I still have no fucking idea how this happened.”
“Harry was my physio before he moved away.”
“I know.”
“He was my mentor when I trained as an exercise therapist.”
“I know that too.”
“Rhys, he’s like the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“Yup.”
Angelo took a bite of toast, life returning to his hooded eyes with every rotation of his jaw. When he looked up, Rhys finally saw something he recognised. “Does he know we’re fuck buddies?”
“Uh—” Rhys winced and died a little inside. “I reckon so. He already knew we were connected when he called and put together with shit I’ve told him about my weekends and stuff . . .”
“Fuck. Me too. I never used your name, but we’ve definitely talked about you in front of him.”
“I’m probably gonna kill him, just so you know. Once I’ve told him you’re not dead.”
“That’s not fair.” Jevon spoke for the first time since coming back in the room.
Rhys studied his face for horror, for any sign that he was about to leave Rhys to the soap opera his life apparently was, but found nothing beyond amused kindness. “How do you figure that?”
“Angelo was his patient,” Jevon said. “Harry couldn’t tell you anything about him without breaking confidentiality. And whatever freaky shit you kids have going on at that sex club probably falls under that too. Don’t those places have some mafia code?”
Angelo started to laugh, but it turned into a cough, reminding Rhys of the real reason they were all there.
“Fuck. I need to call my darling brother and let him know you’re okay. Has your phone come back on yet? You should call Dylan.”
Rhys stepped out of the room, leaving Jevon to help Angelo with his phone, and went to the kitchen.
Harry answered on the first ring.
“He’s all right,” Rhys said quickly. “Fucked, but okay. I’ve checked him out, and I don’t think he needs to go to hospital if he can get to his GP in the next couple of days.”
“What happened? Relapse?”
“I think so. He’s pretty confused.”
“Yeah. He gets that way when his energy levels tank. It hasn’t happened for a while though.”
“How do you know that all the way from Cornwall?”
“Because we’re friends,” Harry said. “He picked up some of my London patients when he qualified as an exercise therapist, and he’s been down here to work with me on the farm.”
“Brilliant.”
Harry sighed.
Rhys closed his eyes and pictured him prowling around Joe’s farmhouse kitchen, rubbing his head like a deranged gorilla—his favourite tic when his anxiety was up. “He’s okay, mate. Just exhausted. We’ll get some grub into him and maybe get him up on his feet, see how he goes.”
“Be careful. His balance is awful when he’s been down—hang on a sec—” Harry spoke to someone else, then came back on the line. “Listen, Joe’s going to drive the van up and get him. Bring him down to us until Dylan gets back. Do you think you can watch him until Joe gets there?”
Relief flooded Rhys. He hadn’t relished the idea of leaving Angelo alone again. “Why can’t you come?”
“Because I have eight residential patients waiting on me. If I could leave, I’d already be on my way. Seriously, Rhys, do you honestly think I’d have created this mess for you if it was something I could’ve sorted myself?”
“So you admit it’s a bloody mess then?”
“Which part? Angelo needing us both right now? Or the fact that he was fucking you in a sex club long before the hospital referred him to me? Because from where I’m standing, bro, none of that is my fault.”
“Are you saying it’s mine?”
“No, I’m saying it’s ridiculous, and it doesn’t even matter anymore. Angelo needs help, and I’m asking you to give it to him until Joe can get there.”
Rhys let loose a heavy sigh of his own. Angsty conversations with Harry always went like this—round in circles and making no sense until one of them blinked and played the part of the father they’d never had. “How soon can Joe get here?”
“He’s leaving now.”
Rhys glanced at his phone screen and his stomach sank. Harry and Joe’s Newquay home was five hours away on a good day. Add in rush-hour traffic and motorway bullshit, and an afternoon ETA was wishful thinking. “Fuck. I’ve got to be on the chopper at noon. There’s no way I can stay until Joe gets here.”
“Can you leave a key? So he can get in if Angelo can’t get up?”
Rhys stepped out into the hallway and stuck his head around the living room door. Jevon was holding the phone to Angelo’s ear with one hand and rubbing Angelo’s seized-up leg with the other. “Yeah, I’ll do that if I have to, but I’ll try and sort something else out first. Just tell Joe to put his foot down.”
“Will do. And Rhys?”
“Yeah?”
“For what it’s worth, you would’ve found out about Angelo and Dylan last Christmas when they were here too. But you didn’t show up.”
Ten
Rhys came back into the room with a face like Jevon had never seen. He crouched by Angelo and fixed him with what Jevon imagined was a mask from his paramedic skin. “Joe’s coming to get you. Harry wants you to stay with them until Dylan gets back.”
The defeat in Angelo was obvious, even to Jevon. “I can’t let them look after me.”
“Why not?” Rhys said. “They’re your friends.”
“They’re your family and you don’t let them look after you.”
“How do you know that?”
Angelo raised one shoulder in a slight half shrug. “He doesn’t talk about you much—which makes sense now—but I know he misses you. Joe’s clan are awesome, but it’s not the same as your own having your back.”
Rhys’s gaze sharpened. “I have his back. It’s not my fault he fucked off to Cornwall, is it?”
“If you found someone who loved you like Joe loves him, you’d fuck off too.”
There was no malice in Angelo’s tone, but Rhys seemed to bristle all the same. “I can’t fuck off. I work on the air ambulance, mate. I can’t hand a car crash off to someone else because I fancy spending my summers on horseback.”
“Okay.” Angelo leaned back on the couch again. “But I think you’re being a bit of a dick. Yeah, maybe he could’ve given you a heads-up about me and Dylan, but I don’t know when. He’s not my official physio anymore, but I don’t think I’ve ever stopped being his patient.”
Rhys said nothing, his expression clear he was done talking about his brother.
Jevon chewed on his lip. He was beginning to feel superfluous to requirements, but somehow stepping away seemed impossible.
He settled for excusing himself to the kitchen to make more tea.
Rhys followed him a few minutes later. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Jevon chucked an extra spoon of sugar in Angelo’s mug. “It’s not my business, man.”
“And yet here you are making tea in a stranger’s kitchen.”
“I’ve brewed up in worse places.”
“Me too.” Rhys knocked his head on Jevon’s shoulder. “Listen, I need to ask you a favour.”
Jevon put the kettle back on its stand and turned to face Rhys. “If you’re going to ask me to wait with Angelo until your brother’s fella gets here, it’s fine. I was going to offer.”
“For real?”
“Of course. You have to work and he needs someone here.”
“But you don’t know him.”
“Neither do you, by the sound of it. Even if you have fucked him.”
The words were out of Jevon’s mouth before he was consciously aware of them forming in his head, but as soon as they registered with Rhys, it was clear he’d hit a nerve.
“You’re right,” Rhys said. “Until a few months back, I’d been mucking around with Angelo and Dylan for a good while, but I don’t know Angelo. Just that he loves Dylan, and his health isn’t always great.”
“What about Dylan?”
Rhys shrugged. “Better. We talk on the phone, confide in each other, but I haven’t seen him in months.”
“Why not?”
“Does it matter? I thought you’d be pleased they weren’t still fucking me.”
One day Jevon would understand how simple conversations with Rhys could become the end of the world. “It’s not my business if they’re fucking you.”
“No?”
“No. It just worries me—for your sake—that you have a relationship with them you seem ashamed of.”
“That’s what you’re annoyed about?”
“I’m not annoyed,” Jevon said, even as sharp scratches of temper buzzed through his veins. “And I’m not jealous that you had a life before you met me. I’m just sad it doesn’t seem to mean anything to you. That you won’t let it.”
Whatever was stoking the fire in Rhys’s dark gaze seemed to give up on him. He leaned heavily on the counter and shook his head. “I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”
The bewilderment in his face was so complete that Jevon abandoned his tea making and pulled him into a tight hug. “What a day, huh? And it ain’t even lunchtime.”
Rhys rumbled something against Jevon’s chest but didn’t pull back to make himself heard, so Jevon let him be, rubbed his back, and tried not to wonder what on earth would happen next. He’d fallen hard and fast for Rhys in ways he couldn’t describe, but despite seeming to function in the outside world, Rhys was a mess. Angelo was a mess. And Harry didn’t sound too happy either.
What do you care?
Jevon couldn’t answer that question, except to say that he did. He really fucking did.
Movement in the living room roused them. Rhys disentangled himself and hurried to help Angelo, who was trying to get up. “What are you doing?”
“Going to the bathroom.”
“Come on then, I’ll help you.”
“Fuck, no. I can take a piss by myself.”
“It’s not the pissing I’m worried about. And you shouldn’t be worried at all. It’s not like I haven’t seen your dick.”
To hear Rhys joke about it was oddly relieving. And warming. Jevon sat on the couch and tried to decipher why that was—why the thought of Rhys being with anyone else made him feel good. And it all came back to Rhys—to the self-loathing that could only be eclipsed by acceptance. He needs to feel good about this too.
Rhys came back from the bathroom alone. “He’s in bed. Figure that’s the best place for him until Joe gets here. It’s gonna be a long ride back to Cornwall.”
Jevon could imagine. “Do you need to go right now?”
“Yeah. I’ve got to get back, shower, and get my arse to work by midday. Even if I don’t eat, I’m cutting it fine already.”
“Eat the cupcakes. We forgot last night.”
Rhys smirked, but there wasn’t much left to say. He gave Jevon a list of numbers to call if anything went wrong, then it was time to go.
He said goodbye to Jevon on the doorstep with a kiss that dragged them to the opposite wall, nipping Jevon’s bottom lip until he pulled away with flushed cheeks and a hooded half grin. “I’m not off until ten, but I can meet you somewhere later?”
Jevon shook his head. “I have to go back to Bedford tonight. Got a party in the morning, then I’m doing some stuff at a school in the afternoon. Maybe the day after?”
“I’m working. My next day off is Friday.”
Jevon groaned. “I’m going to Manchester on Friday. There’s a big aid summit in the city. I’m crashing it in clown mode and telling all the big charities how shit they are.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, I might not tell them they’re shit, but I’ve got a whole list of things that they can do better.”
Rhys chuckled. “You’re surreal. Sometimes I think I’ve dreamed you.”
“You might have to dream about me for a while. I’ll be gone all weekend.”
Rhys’s humour faded. “That sucks.”
Jevon couldn’t argue with that, and they’d run out of time in any case. Rhys kissed Jevon once, twice more, then he was gone, leaving Jevon to the unfamiliar flat and a stranger in the bed.
Angelo limped into the living room, leaning heavily on the furniture for support. “Did you clean up in here?”
Jevon shrugged. “A bit. Sorry, did I disturb you?”
“Only when I couldn’t remember who the fuck you were.” Angelo ventured further into the room, moving slowly, like his body had forgotten how to walk. Jevon caught him when he stumbled by the couch and eased him down. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. I think Joe will be here soon. You want to eat before he gets here?”
Angelo shook his head. “Nah. I’ve got too much tea in my belly right now to handle anything else.”
“Do you feel better?”
“No.”
Jevon smiled. Angelo had been asleep for a good portion of the morning, but what communication they’d shared had been brutally honest on Angelo’s part. “Fair enough. You remember who I am now?”
“If your name and the fact that Rhys seemed to have trouble looking anywhere but at you counts for anything. What’s the deal with you two? Are you together?”
“Would it matter if we were?”
“Only if he wasn’t happy.” Angelo gazed steadily at Jevon. “I heard you talking earlier, and you’re both wrong about him and me. We’re not exactly mates, but I do care about him.”
“It’s not my business.
”
“True, but if neither of you wanted it to be, you wouldn’t be bickering about it in my kitchen.”
“Bickering?”
Angelo shrugged but seemed to run out of steam. Jevon let it go and got to his feet. “You’re gonna need some stuff packing if you’re staying with Harry a few days. Tell me where it is and I’ll get it for you.”
“That’s okay. You’ve done enough already.”
“I haven’t done much, mate. And it will save Joe a job, eh?”
Angelo relented and directed Jevon to a bag in the bedroom cupboard that was half packed already. Jevon stuffed in some more clothes and retrieved a toothbrush and toiletries from the bathroom.
When he got back, Angelo was squinting painfully at his phone. He grinned a little when he saw Jevon. “Hang on, I’ll turn the camera round. Shit . . . I can’t see it. Hey, Jevon? Come here . . . Dylan wants to see you.”
Curious, Jevon put the bag down and rounded the back of the couch. He relieved Angelo’s shaking hands of the phone and held it far enough away that both of their faces fit on the screen.
A blond man—Dylan, presumably—who was every bit as pretty as Angelo, peered back at him, his head tilted sideways. “Wow. So you’re who’s been hiding Rhys away?”
“Doubt it,” Jevon said. “Until yesterday, I hadn’t seen him for a few weeks.”
“And yet you were still with him this morning?” Dylan’s tone was playful. “Rhys doesn’t do sleepovers with random fucks.”
“Um—”
“Stop it.” Angelo rescued Jevon with a mistimed wave of his hand. “Jevon isn’t a hook-up.”
Dylan eyed Jevon, but his expression was hard to read through FaceTime. Jevon recalled what Rhys had said about being closer to him than Angelo and wondered if he was being appraised.
“Joe should be here soon,” he said when the silence had stretched on a beat too long.
Dylan seemed to shake himself. “Thank god. Jevon, can I have a quick chat with you before he gets there?”
Jevon glanced at Angelo, but he seemed to have zoned out. “Sure. Give me a sec, I’ll step outside and call you back.”
After getting Angelo comfortable, Jevon took Angelo’s phone outside and called Dylan. “What’s up?”
Believe Page 9
