Page 88 of On Circus Lane

We lie there, panting loudly in the quiet room. After a few minutes, he stirs, pulling gently out of me and knotting the condom. I force my eyes open to look at him. His hair is damp with sweat, and his face is full of a sweet satiation—a feeling I share.

“I should go,” he whispers.

My eyes widen. He’s right. Heshouldgo back to his room. That’s the way I like it. Which is why it’s so astonishing to find myself snuggling into him. “Do you want to stay a while?”

I can feel the startled surprise in his body, but when he speaks, he says simply, “I can do that.”

He can’t keep the pleasure out of his voice, and it makes me happy, so I turn on my side, feeling him snuggle up behind me and enclose me in his arms with a sigh of satisfaction that I echo silently.

The room is dim now, and when I look out, I exclaim in delight. The snow is so thick and heavy that the world seemsmade of it. Thick flakes the size of my thumb are spiralling down, and every building is white and covered in layers making them look like iced cakes. I can just make out the light from the ornate Victorian lamp, which looks magical.

“That’s so pretty,” I say.

His arms are warm around me, his body hard against my back. He’s bigger than me in all ways, but his size makes me feel safe and protected. It’s strangely nice.

He nuzzles his face into my cheek, dropping a kiss on my skin that makes me shiver.

He immediately draws up the duvet, tucking it around us and pushing one hairy leg between mine. Our feet tangle, and I’ve never felt so comfortable.

I let out a yawn, feeling his arms tighten, and then he does the same. “Five minutes,” I say sleepily. “And then we can get up.”

I never lie in bed because there’s always so much to do, but lying like this is a pleasure all in itself. He murmurs an agreement, and then there’s easy silence. His body grows lax against me and I’m just going to sleep myself, when he starts to snore. My eyes fly open.

“What thefuck?” I whisper. I usually go to sleep at night with my thunderstorm playlist, but that pales into insignificance next to the sound coming from Tom. It sounds like a chain saw that’s got stuck in the base of a tree. How can one human being make that much noise while asleep? I turn my head to eye him and then shake my head affectionately. He manages to look adorable even when snoring.

I shove him experimentally and the cacophony stops. Then I lie still watching the snow fall until my eyes get heavy and I fall asleep.

Chapter Twelve

TOM

The cocktail bar that Sal picked for our last night is like being in a Disney princess’s brothel. That’s the only way I can describe it. The walls are pink, the tables and chairs are pink, and the lighting is pink. Even the bar has a shiny pink counter, and the Christmas decorations are hot pink.

Jack stirs next to me. “This is the same colour as my mother’s bedjacket.”

I grimace. “You’re not selling it to me at the moment.”

He chuckles. “It fell on me once when I was two, and I panicked because I couldn’t find the way out.”

“Rather like talking to your mother.”

He laughs, unoffended. His parents are like what would happen if you crossed the rotary club with a tank. They’re never satisfied and never let up, always seeking perfection from him when he’s already pretty perfect. The fact that they like Steven is the biggest red flag as to how wrong they can be.

“So, is Steven coming back with us tomorrow?”

I’m hoping that Steven will have been abducted by aliens, but that would probably destroy interplanetary relations.

He sighs. “Yes.”

I want to say more, but I can’t. I’ve already said enough. Jack has to come to the end of the relationship himself, and I’ve seen signs of it happening. The thing is, I know why he’s stayed with Steven. He offers Jack the same sort of cold love he grew up with. I sigh and make a Christmas wish that Jack will find someone warm and real. Someone who will value him and make him believe in himself when he’s had a lifetime of the people closest to him denting his confidence.

My eyes are itchy, and I raise my hand to rub at them before stopping myself. That’s what happens when you fall asleep with your contacts in. But waking up with Bee’s naked body plastered to mine had been worth it.

Freddy reels over to us. He’s wearing a pink boa that a group of girls at the next table conferred on him. He’s also carrying a tray of drinks that are on fire.

“What thefuck?” I mutter as he sets the tray neatly on the table. It’s one of his superpowers. No matter how drunk he is, he never spills a drop. “What are those?”

“Santa’s Smirnoff Sparklers,” he says, elongating the words.

---