by Anyta Sunday
Sig’s grin slipped fully into place and he picked up her sore hand and kissed it. “You’ll be fine.”
Candice stared at the spot on her hand where Sig had kissed her.
Will wished he could’ve seen Candice go at the prick, but as soon as he thought it, he chastised himself. He looked at Heath: thankfully, he seemed to be taking the news okay. “Uh, yeah, well,” he said, trying to tread the line between being thankful Candice cared so much and not endorsing what she did. “Thanks for sticking up for us, but violence isn’t the way to solve anything.”
Heath moved closer to him, gently touching the small of his back and giving him a shrug that told him that it was okay.
Candice sighed. “Don’t worry, this was a first and last time thing. Hurt like hell. In fact,” she frowned, “I think I might have strained or broken something.” She lifted her hand to Sig. “Kiss it better some more?”
Just then Eric stumbled out of the bar, Sig and Candice’s jacket and bag hanging from his arms. He doled them out. “Sorry, Will, your cake was gone when I went to get it for you.”
“It’s okay.”
Sig, who’d been asking Candice a few questions about her hand, looked at him. “Will, I know you’re crashing at my place, but I think I should take Candice to the emergency room to get an x-ray. I can give you my keys if you don’t mind paying the entire taxi fare home.”
“Oh,” Will said. He could afford the trip out there, but if he could help it, he’d rather save the forty bucks.
Perfectly timed, Eric spoke up. “Hey, you know the offer of my bed is still good, yeah? I don’t live far from here, either. We could walk together—”
Heath cut Eric off, the pressure of his fingers on Will’s back increasing. “No-no. He’s staying with me.”
The idea of staying in Heath’s dead brother’s room made him cold. Sure he’d have his own bed, but . . . he just couldn’t. He faced Heath directly, and spoke low. “I can’t sleep in that room anymore, sorry Heath . . . it’s just too weird.”
“That won’t be a problem,” he said and turned back to the others. “I hope we all meet properly sometime soon. Sorry that won’t be tonight, but I have some business with Will.”
Heath firmly cupped his elbow and steered him away.
Of course Will could have stopped it, but who was he kidding? This was Heath. ‘No’ was difficult to come by around him. He waved at the others over his shoulder and promised to call tomorrow.
Once around the corner, Heath spoke. “Is this how you’re living? Crashing in other people’s beds?”
Floors, mostly. His back ached at the thought. “Well, it’s just until I find something—”
“I wish you’d come back.”
“Funny. A couple of weeks back and that would’ve been the last thing you’d have said.”
Heath’s step slowed, but he kept walking. “Yeah. Well. Maybe I was wrong.”
How serious was he being right now? “Are you thinking clearly or is this the alcohol talking?”
“I’m not that drunk. And I’m being serious.”
“Well, you know I can’t come back.”
Heath threaded a hand through his hair. “Shit. I know. It’s just my mum . . . You know why I started texting you?”
“Because of the Mickey Mouse Monstrosity?”
He laughed briefly—too briefly. “Well, yes, but I heard you that day. With my mum in the kitchen, I was listening to you both.” Heath stopped walking, they were alone on a narrow hilly street, and it was quiet enough to hear the breathing between them. “Thank you. For coming back and talking with her. Thank you for caring enough. Thank you for giving her some hope. It might only be a free dinner or two for you, but to her it means, well, a lot.”
Will stepped back. “I do not see it as just a free dinner.”
Heath cringed.
Will went on, “I like your mum. Granted this whole situation is a little screwed-up, but that aside, I get on with her and find her interesting and fun. I think it’s amazing how she went to lengths to make meals for me the way I liked them, how every Saturday she does everything she can to go and cheer you on at your games, how she always went out of her way to drop me off at campus even though it’s in the opposite direction for her. And she’s easy to talk to—I—”
Will stopped. Heath had stilled as he’d spoken of Vicky, and now he blinked and swallowed hard.
“Are you okay?” he asked, meeting Heath’s soft and confused gaze.
“Um, yeah.” He nodded, bowed his head, and kept walking up the hill.
They walked the rest of the way back to Heath’s place with very little talking. Only once they hit the driveway, just behind Sally, did Heath speak again. “Actually, I’m not. Not okay, that is.”
He snagged Will’s sleeve, pulling him toward him, an emotion Will couldn’t quite grasp filling his eyes. “I’m really not okay,” he said again, the words tickling his cheek as Heath’s lips slanted down and took away any words Will had been about to say. Oh wow.
Heath’s mouth was so hot on his. He could taste a slight tang of tequila, but it was overpowered when he breathed in a hint of Heath’s spicy aftershave. Will’s arms instinctively wrapped around Heath, drawing him closer and Heath broke from their kiss a fraction to groan. Yes, more. Then holding onto his hips, Heath twisted him so he was hard up against the Commodore and leaned into him. That’s it.
“I like the taste of your kisses,” Will said as he pulled back from Heath and searched his eyes for a moment before going back to Heath’s lips a moment longer. He loved hearing Heath hum when he moved the kiss to trail it over his jaw and down his neck. At this rate, Will wasn’t sure he’d even stop if Heath wanted to go further than this. He was willing to break all his rules when it came to this guy.
Heath nipped his ear and whispered, “This is such a great way.”
“Great way to what?” Will asked arching into Heath when he pressed his arousal against his own.
“Great way to forget.”
He stopped kissing Heath and pushed him back. That was not what he’d wanted to hear. “What does that mean?”
Heath tried to go in for another kiss, but Will’s hand remained firm on his chest.
“I just meant, I don’t know, it feels good—it makes”—He threw a hand toward the house—“it makes everything else go away for a bit. Makes it hurt less. You help me escape.” Heath dipped his head to capture Will’s lips again, and though Will hated doing the right thing just then, he had to.
“No,” he said.
“No?”
“This is a way to forget for you, nothing more. I’m not going to do that. It’s not right.”
“What’s wrong with wanting to feel good? To get away from it all for a night? It’s just sex.”
Will shut his eyes, forcing himself not to shove Heath away. “I don’t do ‘just sex’.” With that he brushed Heath aside and started back down the drive.
“Wait,” Heath said, snatching his hand and making him stop. Will’s anger dissipated when he saw Heath’s confusion. “I’m—I’m sorry?” He sounded so unsure of his apology, like he just didn’t get it. “It’s just most guys go for it.”
He shook his arm free. “I’m not most guys.” The fact Heath had been doing this before—and to ‘escape’ made him so freaking angry. And jealous. A lot jealous.
“No, you’re not most guys,” Heath quickly said. “You’re really not. Please don’t go. You need a place to crash.” He looked at him nervously, which, considering the fact a minute earlier he’d been quite ready to fuck him, was more than a little confusing. “Crash with me? No sex, I promise. Just . . . stay?”
You should leave. Heath doesn’t see you the way you see him, and much longer in his presence and you’re going to fall over the edge into the unrequited love pit-of-doom.
Swallowing, he went to say no, but found himself nodding instead. “Okay. I’ll stay on the couch.”
“The couch? No way. You’ll cramp. You c
an have my bed; I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Heath’s offer made him a little dizzy. Without much ado, he followed Heath around the house to his hut.
Murky came out of the kennel as they climbed the stairs. Will stared at him, not letting his eyes off the dog, and hurrying behind Heath to get inside. Heath chuckled and, maneuvering around the bed, switched on his bedside lamp, casting a warm, but none too bright, glow into the room.
There was a moment of awkwardness when they stared at each other, Heath looking how Will was feeling: uncertain and uncomfortable. Now what?
Heath cleared his throat. “I’ll grab you something to sleep in.” He rummaged in his drawers and chucked a t-shirt onto the bed.
“See, it’s a good thing we’re not going at it,” Will said, trying to get rid of the tension between them, both sexual and otherwise. What better than a bit of self-deprecating humor? “You’ve got beer goggles on right now. Tomorrow you’ll look at me and remember you don’t even find me attractive and wonder why you ever wanted to hit the sheets with me at all.”
Heath turned to face him. “Ha! Yeah, right. That’s a funny one, Will.”
Will whacked Heath on the shoulder, trying for a laugh, but it felt forced. “Jeez, so charming you are.”
Heath flashed him a wicked grin. “I am, actually.”
He picked up the t-shirt. It had a Chinese doggy style picture on the front. “Oh, yeah. Real charming.”
“That’s a Rory gift.”
Well that’d make sense.
It smells like Heath, he thought, as he stripped to his boxers and slipped it on. It was a bit big on him, but he liked that. He slipped into the bed, watching Heath fluff up a pillow on the floor and pull a thin blanket from his drawer.
His inner voice was telling him it was a bad idea before he said it, but he couldn’t hold back. “Let’s just share the bed, okay?”
Heath looked at him. “It’s really no problem.”
“Just stay on your side, and we’re all good.”
A little grin cornered Heath’s lips as he moved into the bed next to him.
Oh yes, this was a very bad idea.
Honestly, he was twenty-seven, he should be getting smarter, should know how to protect his heart by now.
It’s just a night’s sleep. He could handle it. Tomorrow, he’d distance himself until he got over his little crush. It’d be fine.
Just fine.
“Will?” Heath said softly once he’d snapped of the lights and settled his head on the pillow next to him.
“Yeah?”
“I want you to know, I’ll protect you.”
“What?” His heart rate picked up. Protect him? What was he talking about? And why did those three little words have to make him feel warm inside?
“From Murky, I mean.” A cheeky smile stretched across his face. “With me around, you never have to be scared of him, okay? And one day, you’ll love him.”
“I will, will I?”
“Yep. I’m going to help you overcome your fear of dogs.” He paused and amended, “Well, at least your fear of Murky. You can still be afraid of poodles and Chihuahuas if you must.”
Heath laughed softly, and Will shifted onto his side to study him, loving the lines that crinkled around his eyes. The slight dent in Heath’s nose was more noticeable from this angle. He wanted to reach out and touch it—feel the planes and angles of his face. Damn. He should have paid more attention to his nose when they’d been kissing. Now he might’ve lost his chance.
“That’s a promise, by the way,” Heath added.
“Hmmm. Fine,” Will murmured, his breath waving a strand of Heath’s hair. “But only if I can help you get over whatever-it-is you’re scared of.”
Heath’s crinkly-laughing eyes smoothed over. “No.”
Will raised himself on an elbow, looking down at him. “No?”
Heath turned his back to him. “Good night, Will.”
“No?” he asked again.
He heard Heath swallow. “I don’t want to get over mine. Ever. But you are helping in other ways.” Then so quietly, Will wouldn’t have caught it if his ears hadn’t been so attuned to snooping, Heath added, “You have no idea how much.”
10 Moments
Will twisted his face into the pillows wanting to yell his frustration. Heath wasn’t attracted to him the way he was to Heath, and yet he had to say things like that. Things that made him feel all, well, good inside. He scrunched the corner of his pillow in his hand and slowly breathed out.
Stop thinking about how much your heart is screwed! There were bigger things at issue here. Like whatever fear it was Heath didn’t want to get over.
Rearranging himself on his back, he stared at the dark ceiling and whispered. “If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” And probably fall for you even more. Garrgh! He shouldn’t be here. This was a bad move. A very, very bad move.
Heath let out a heavy breath, snatching back Will’s attention. Not that he didn’t have it before. The guy always had his attention.
“I can’t talk about it,” Heath finally said.
“Can’t or don’t want to? Not that it’s any of my business.” Oh but boy did he want it to be. “But maybe I just . . . could I help?”
Heath turned onto his back and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I’ve talked about it to Rory. He says it’s a stupid fear to have because it’ll never happen. But I think that’ll only be the case so long as I’m afraid. That way I’ll always make sure. . . .”
Will wished he’d be more specific, because it didn’t any sense to him, but he heard the earnestness in Heath’s voice and felt a pang of sympathy for him when, at the end, Heath’s voice cracked.
“I’m—” Glad? Annoyed? Jealous? Relieved? “I mean, it’s good you have someone you can talk to.”
Even if he didn’t like that someone.
Heath turned his head toward him, the slightest glint in his eyes. “You really hate the guy, don’t you?”
“Hate’s a bit strong. I just haven’t seen what you do in him.” Though that wasn’t quite true, was it? He had seen Rory’s protectiveness of Heath and his family when he’d—rightly—showed him up for being a bit of a prick himself. “He doesn’t like me much either, so it’s a mutual dislike.”
“Once upon a time, I didn’t like him that much, either.”
“And that changed how? I could use the tip.”
He fingered the bed clothes, pulling them up higher onto his chest.
“With William’s death,” Heath said, and Will closed his eyes, wishing like hell he’d shut up.
He heard Heath twist again and he screwed his lids shut tighter. That was twice he’d made Heath turn his back to him. “Sorry,” he whispered.
Warm air hit his face and he opened his eyes to Heath raised on one elbow looking down at him. Heath lowered his gaze to Will’s chin.
“Rory was William’s best friend. They were practically inseparable through college and the first year of uni. They got up to all sorts of stupid shit together, nothing harmful, just stupid.”
Heath shook his head, his lip twitching in fondness.
“Like trying to burn a sofa on the corner of Dundee Street after getting wasted. They were party boys, that’s for sure. But while they loved the chaos of throwing keg parties, they were real socialites. They made sure everyone was having a good time—they always made everyone feel welcome and like they really enjoyed their company. I liked that about them even if I wasn’t so keen on the parties.”
Will mirrored Heath, propping himself up on an elbow as he listened.
“Rory used to piss Mum off like you wouldn’t believe, but she always had a soft spot for him too, though she’d never have admitted it back then. And Rory was a cheeky toad to my mum, but he loved her, too.”
Heath sighed, twisting his foot around the sheets until he was only half-covered.
“Then—then William died. It was a huge, huge shock to us. We were all so lost and
at first it didn’t feel real. I kept expecting William to walk into the kitchen one morning and say ‘gotcha’.”
Heath’s free hand kneaded the comforter between them and Will placed his hand on top, squeezing. I’m here for you.
“For a couple of months, every morning I’d race up to his room to double check. Of course, he was never there. The last day I ever checked, I threw open the door and my heart flipped—actually flipped—because he was in his bed, his toes poking out the end, the blankets shuddering, rising and falling. Alive! I thought. And so I whipped the duvet off him and found, not my brother, but Rory, sobbing.”
With a yank, Heath pulled the bedclothes over his other leg and started twisting his foot again.
“‘I just needed to smell him again’ he said when he saw me. And that’s the moment I knew for sure he was never coming home. That William was gone forever. And I cried with Rory, inhaling every last bit of my brother I could out of his duvet. And we hugged each other so damn tight, each of us trying and failing to fill the space where William should have—should have been.” Heath’s voice broke and he dropped his head onto the pillow, blinking rapidly.
Will shuffled closer to Heath and, letting go of his hand, wrapped an arm around him, rubbing circles on his back. He could feel tears prick at his eyes as he imagined the scene between Heath and Rory. Then Rory’s words as he told Will off came back to him with new meaning: You left. Without explaining. Without saying goodbye. You just left. . . . When your best-fucking friend in the world leaves without a goodbye—it fucking kills you.
Will’s hand gripped on Heath’s upper arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“It hit Mum and Dad the hardest. They split after the High Court sentenced Chris Aply to three years in prison for manslaughter. Mum felt it wasn’t enough.”
“Did you think it wasn’t enough?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. But Dad said it was far too long for the young man. Dad was angry at Mr. Aply, absolutely, but he was more forgiving than the rest of us. I think Mum drove him to leave. She was devastated, depressed, and she always looked away whenever Dad would walk into the room. And it hurt Dad because he loved her so much and wanted so badly to make her better, but he couldn’t. I think I get it, though, William was practically a spitting image of him. Just a younger version. I think it just hurt too much.”
