Maybe This Time

by Annabelle Jacobs

  Ahh, there it was. “Mum. I don’t need to ‘settle down.’” He even used his fingers to make air quotes. “I don’t want to get married and have kids.”

  “I know that, but—”

  “Mum.” Matt rubbed his temples. Although both his parents had accepted he was gay with little fanfare—he suspected his mum knew long before he told her—she struggled to understand his lack of interest in a long-term partner. She and his dad had been married for fifty-three years, and she wanted that for him and his sister. Which he understood and loved her for it. It just wasn’t something he wanted.

  She held up her hands. “I know! Sorry.” Meeting his gaze, she stepped close and reached up to ruffle his hair and drew him down enough so that she could kiss his cheek. “I can’t help thinking you’ve not met the right man yet. That’s all.”

  He refrained from rolling his eyes again. At least she hadn’t added, “And Ryan might be that man.” Pulling her into a hug, he lifted her onto her toes and made her laugh. “So I’ll have to keep on trying all the frogs until I find Prince Charming. Is that what you’re suggesting? Because I think that’s an excellent idea.”

  “Matt! Put me down.” She slapped his arm and he released her, setting her carefully back on her feet. With a little frown and a sigh, she said, “I know it’s maybe a little old-fashioned to want that for you in this day and age. I just want you to be happy. And if that’s going out and….” She waved her hands in front of her, and Matt prayed she didn’t finish that sentence. “Well. As long as you’re happy, then that’s all that matters.”

  “Thank you. And I am.”

  “Good.” She reached for a spatula and Matt breathed a big sigh of relief. Thank God that conversation was over. “Can you go tell your father dinner’s ready?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  She put her hand on his arm as he passed by and whispered, “He’ll say he doesn’t need any help, but keep an eye on him. He still tries to go far too fast with that walker.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

  She smiled at him, but this time it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks, love.”

  Matt made a mental note to talk to his sister. Maybe his dad wasn’t the only one who needed a bit of help coping with all of this.

  Matt sat with his back to the wall, watching the door. The pub was busy; Friday nights after work always were. When Sam walked in, shaking rain out of his hair and looking like a drowned rat, Matt smiled and waved until Sam noticed him.

  Sam had been his best mate since they were fifteen and the only one Matt had kept in touch with from school. When he’d started his apprenticeship at his uncle’s barbers, Matt had let him practice on him, until Sam accidentally gave him a grade one all over. His mum had not been pleased.

  Sam weaved his way through the crowded pub until he reached Matt’s table. He eyed the two pints of Thatchers Matt had bought and sighed. “Oh God, you have no idea how much I need this.”

  Matt pushed one of them closer to him. “Bad day?”

  “Nah, just busy.” He took the stool opposite and picked up his pint, taking a long drink before setting it down on the table with a satisfied smile. “Perfect.” The food menu sat on the table between them and Sam scooped it up to read.

  “You eating?”

  “Yeah, I’m starving. Worked through most of lunch and only managed to get crisps and chocolate from the shop next door.” Since taking over from his uncle, that was the norm more often than not these days. Although Sam seemed to be thriving on it and business was good.

  Matt glanced over at the specials board next to the bar to see if there was anything on it he fancied. If Sam was ordering food, then he might as well join him.

  In the end they both decided on the chicken burger with chips, and after Sam returned from placing their order, he settled back on his stool with his elbows on the table. “What’ve you been up to this week, then?”

  “Not much really.” Matt swiped his thumb through the condensation on his glass. “I was supposed to help Harry with his kitchen on Sunday, but his cat got run over, so I went over to Mum and Dad’s instead.”

  “Shit.” Sam grimaced. “Was the cat all right? His kids are crazy about those two.”

  Matt smiled. “Yeah, a few cuts that needed stitches, but nothing that won't heal, apparently.”

  “Bet he’s relieved.” Sam’s expression turned serious, and he met Matt’s gaze. “How’s things with your mum and dad?”

  “Pretty much the same, I think.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Dad still thinks he should be up and walking around like he used to, and Mum… well, I’m not sure she knows what to do with him at the moment.”

  Sam’s smile was sympathetic. “Have you spoken to Liz about it?”

  “Not since last week.” Matt smiled as he remembered what his mum had shown him on Sunday. “But she sent Dad a list of exercises to do, alongside his physio-approved ones, and apparently checks up on him every morning.”

  Sam laughed. “Oh, I bet he loves that.”

  “Yep. But Mum says he’s doing them, so fingers crossed they help him get back on his feet. Or at least help him get more mobile.” He took a sip of his pint, and Sam did the same. Talking about his parents always put a damper on his mood these days. His dad had always had problems with his back for as long as Matt could remember, so the operation hadn’t been too much of a surprise. Well not for him and his sister, and probably not his dad to some extent. His mum was a different story—the whole thing had really hit her for six.

  The two and a half weeks his dad spent in hospital, first in the main one in the city and then the remainder at a smaller one closer to home, had taken a huge toll on her. Despite telling everyone she was fine being on her own, Matt had watched her go from the confident, on-the-ball woman he’d known all his life to someone nervous and often forgetful. It was as though those seventeen days had sapped all her self-confidence. Thankfully, once his dad came home and they slipped back into somewhat of a normal routine, she’d got a lot better, much more like her old self. But now and again she’d worry about the smallest of things that she wouldn’t have given a second thought to before.

  He didn't realise he’d gone quiet until he felt Sam’s hand on his arm. “Matt?”

  “Shit, sorry. Didn't mean to zone out on you.” He took another drink, hoping the cool cider would snap him out of it and get him focusing back on the present. “They’re both doing okay, considering. Dad can still be a grumpy bastard, and Mum’s away with the fairies sometimes, but….” He laughed as Sam choked on the mouthful of cider he’d just taken. “On the whole, they’re not doing too bad.” And they weren’t if he stopped and thought about it, for two people in their late seventies. They still lived in their own house and still had all—well nearly all—their faculties. “I reckon she could do with getting out of the house a bit more. Do something on her own instead of looking after Dad all the time.”

  “Might be a good idea. I know my mum was ready to throttle my dad about two weeks after he retired.”

  “I’ll ask Liz, see if she can think of something to suggest.”

  Thankfully their food came then, and the conversation was quickly forgotten as they tucked in.

  They ate in comfortable silence until Sam pushed his plate away and patted his belly with a contented sigh. He caught Matt’s gaze and smiled. “I feel almost human now.”

  Matt nodded, mouth still full of chips. Sam had practically hoovered down his meal.

  “Want another?” Sam gestured to Matt’s almost empty pint glass, and Matt nodded. “Same again?”

  He swallowed and reached for his glass to finish off the dregs. “Yeah, please.”

  Sam took their empties and walked over to the bar.

  Matt ate the rest of his burger and watched with amusement as Sam attempted to flirt with the barman. When he carried their pints over, Matt grinned up at him. “Get anywhere?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Sam’s mis
chievous smile said otherwise. He slid Matt’s drink towards him and settled on his stool again. “Oh, I meant to ask. Have you met your new neighbours yet?”

  Matt had mentioned Ryan to Sam when they’d gone out Saturday night, not that Matt knew his name then, just the fact a group of hot guys were loitering about in front of his building, obviously moving one or more of them into it. “It’s only the one new neighbour.” Sam raised an eyebrow. “And yes I’ve met him. Sort of.”

  “Sort of? What does that mean?”

  “He spilt coffee down me on Sunday, and then he turned out to be the guy who came to look at my mum and dad’s washing machine.”

  Sam grinned at him. “He’s already met the parents? You’ll be moving in together next week.”

  “Very funny.” Matt rolled his eyes and passed his empty plate over when the waitress came to collect it. “Thanks,” he said and smiled at her.

  As soon as she’d taken Sam’s as well and headed back to the kitchen, Sam rested his elbows on the table. “So?” He peered intently at Matt.

  “So what?”

  “What do you know about him? Is he as hot as you first thought? Name, age, eye colour?” He waggled his eyebrows. “And most importantly, did your mum like him?”

  Matt laughed despite himself. “He’s… okay, I guess. Hard to tell after such a short meeting.”

  Sam gestured for him to continue.

  “Fine. His name’s Ryan Blackwell. He’s thirty, dark haired, no idea what colour his eyes are. Blue, maybe?”

  “And?”

  Matt glared at him, knowing what would happen as soon as he said the next bit. “Yes, my mum liked him.”

  “Ha! I knew it.” He pointed a finger at Matt.

  “My mum thinks the world of you, so clearly she has questionable taste.”

  Sam laughed at him. “She has excellent taste.” He took a drink of his pint, gaze fixed on Matt. “For example, she really wasn’t keen on—” He snapped his fingers. “What was his name?”

  Despite having a good idea who he was referring to, Matt shrugged. “I don’t know who you mean.”

  “Skinny, whiny, just out of school—”

  “He was twenty-three, for fuck’s sake.”

  Sam grinned. “So you know exactly who I meant.”

  “Possibly. And the only reason my mum didn’t like him was because she thought he was too young for me.”

  “She was right.”

  “Oh, come on, fifteen years is nothing these days, and it wasn’t as though it was serious. She only met Julian once, and that was by accident. Otherwise both she and my dad would have been none the wiser.”

  Sam snapped his fingers. “That’s it. Julian. My nephew acted more mature and he’s seventeen. What the fuck did you see in him?”

  Matt smirked—Julian had been tall, fit, and blessed with a bigger than average—

  “Oh God, stop. I can see where your mind’s going. Forget I asked. Just please never subject your long-suffering friends to anyone like that again.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  They lapsed into silence again. When Matt started to relax, thinking the conversation over and done with, Sam said, “Going to do anything about Ryan?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? Doesn’t he go for the silver-fox look?”

  “Fuck off.” He self-consciously ran a hand through his hair and eyed Sam’s still-black curls with a touch of envy. Only for a second though. “He lives in my building. I’d run into him afterwards, and it would be unnecessarily awkward.”

  Sam sighed. “Or you know, you could always keep seeing him if it goes well the first time.”

  Matt met his gaze. “Now, why would I want to do that when there are so many other options out there?”

  “You kept Julian around for longer than the one night.”

  “Because it wasn’t serious, and he—”

  “Had a big cock. Yes, you’ve said.”

  Matt laughed and shook his head. “I was going to say, he lived an hour’s drive away, so I didn’t see him all that often. It suited both of us at the time. It’d be almost like living with Ryan.”

  With his hands out in front of him, Sam gave in. “Okay, fine. I won’t mention him again.”

  “Good.”

  “Anyway, what are you up to this weekend? Fancy the pub tomorrow night? The others were on about meeting up, and I can’t be arsed to drive anywhere.”

  No way was Matt mentioning he was seeing Ryan in the morning. “Yeah, sounds good. The Langston? I think that’s local enough for everyone to walk to.”

  “And also practically on your doorstep.”

  Matt grinned and shrugged. “Can’t help that. It’s a nice pub.”

  “Yeah, all right. I’ll let everyone else know.”

  They’d talked about Matt’s life more than enough for his liking, and before Sam could ask him anything else, Matt asked the one thing guaranteed to keep him chatting for hours. “Anyone hot come into your shop this week?”

  Sam’s smile lit up his face. “Well, funny you should ask….”

  With his elbows on the table, chin propped on his hand, Matt listened intently as Sam regaled him with tales of his customers.

  Chapter Five

  The sound of his phone vibrating woke Ryan from sleep on Saturday morning. Fumbling around on his bedside table, he managed to grab it without knocking it onto the floor. A quick glance at the screen had him cursing and sitting bolt upright. Fucking hell—nine o’clock already. The buzzing had been a text from Josh, and Ryan groaned as he read it.

  Just leaving mine, be there in ten.

  “Shit.” He lay there for a few seconds more, enjoying the comfort of his warm bed, then flung the quilt back and sat up. A sniff of his armpits told him that yes, he desperately needed to hop in the shower. He typed a quick message back to Josh.

  Running late, come up when you get here. Use your key.

  Both Josh and Ryan’s mum had spare keys to his flat. His habit of locking himself out necessitated it, and it also came in handy at times like this.

  The reply was quick to come.

  Knew you wouldn’t be ready. FFS

  Ryan laughed at the message but didn’t bother answering. He'd only get grief for being on his phone when he should be getting dressed. Grabbing a towel from the pile of clean laundry in the corner—he’d get around to putting it away at some point this weekend—Ryan hurried to the shower for the quickest wash he could get away with.

  Josh arrived as Ryan was pulling on his jeans, bringing a delicious smell with him. He stopped in the doorway to Ryan’s bedroom, took one look at Ryan, and rolled his eyes. “You overslept, didn't you?”

  Ryan smiled at him and straightened up. “Maybe.”

  “If you insist on getting me up this early on a weekend, the least you could do is be ready.”

  Gesturing to his now-dressed self, Ryan said, “I am ready.”

  “Have you had breakfast?”

  “No, but—”

  “Here.” Josh tossed him a brown bag, which Ryan caught with a “fuck yes!” Shaking his head, Josh added, “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

  Ryan already had the bag open and the sausage sandwich shoved in his mouth. He grinned around it. “You’re the best.”

  That earned him another eye roll, but Ryan would take it. Josh turned and headed into the kitchen, so Ryan followed. Two takeaway coffees sat on the worktop. Ryan swallowed and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Seriously, I could kiss you right now.”

  Josh smirked at him and reached for one of the cups. “I know what a grumpy arse you are in a morning without food or caffeine. This was for purely selfish reasons.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” It was all true, and Ryan didn’t care as long as it got him breakfast. “Thanks, though.”

  Josh waved him off. “Where is it we’re heading to get this thing?”

  Ryan gave him the postcode and house number and waited as Josh typed it into his phone and chec
ked the route. “Don’t you have satnav?”

  “Not in my work van.”

  As soon as Ryan finished his sandwich, they grabbed their coffees and left. Blue sky and sunshine greeted them when they stepped outside, and Ryan smiled. “Looks like it's going to be a hot one today.” He glanced at Josh in his baggy cargo shorts, then back down at his own jeans. “Maybe I should—”

  Josh shook his head and pointed at where his van was parked outside the front of the building. “You're not bloody changing. Come on.” He opened the door and climbed in, waited for Ryan to do the same, then started the engine. “So.” He shot Ryan a quick glance before pulling out onto the road. “This washing machine is at the hot runner’s parents’ house, right?”

  “His name is Matt.”

  Josh snorted. “Sorry. At Matt’s parents’ house.”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmmm. What are the chances of that?”

  “Pretty fucking slim, I’m sure.”

  “What’s he like?”

  Ryan shifted in his seat to face him. “You saw him.”

  “Yeah, but he was all hot and sweaty.” He grinned. “Dave probably got a better look at him when you spilt coff—”

  “Yeah, all right.” Ryan turned to look back out of the window, cheeks heating. Of course Dave had blabbed that story as soon as they’d got back in the flat. “Considering I didn’t make the best first impression, he was fine.”

  “Just fine? That doesn’t sound too promising. You not interested?” Josh glanced at him on and off as he drove, Ryan’s silence obviously bothering him. “Well?”

  Ryan sighed. “Okay, yes, he’s hot and fit. But I may have rambled a little last time I saw him.”

  Josh gasped in mock surprise. “What, you? Never.”

  “Piss off.” Ryan punched him on the arm since they’d come to a stop at the traffic lights. “I was nervous. He was the last person I expected to see there.”