Page 35 of Screens Apart

There was also the fact I didn’t even know what to call our arrangement anymore. It was abundantly clear we’d moved on from just hooking up, but we’d never actually talked about what we were doing. We’d spent the whole week sharing a bed for Christ’s sake. And not in a sexy way either. I mean, we still had sex, but we also cuddled while we slept. Simon made such a good little spoon and it was amazing waking up with him in my arms, his beautiful ass pressed against me.

“You have!” Connor exclaimed gleefully. “Who is it?”

“Seriously, it’s nothing.” I turned to head out of the station, flicking up my umbrella. Connor watched me with a calculating look before producing his own umbrella and adjusting the bags on his shoulder. I held out my hand and Connor sighed, handing one over. We’d had this argument several times in the past, and I always won.

“You’d be mad if you dropped your shoes,” I said, hefting the bag of Pleasers on my shoulder. How a single pair of dance shoes could be worth nearly a hundred pounds still baffled me, and that was before you started looking at the boots Connor owned. “How many pairs did you bring this time?”

“Only three,” Connor said, following me out into the rain. “Because I don’t know which ones are going to work best.”

Connor was a dancer and taught everything from ballet to pole dance, although he largely preferred the dancing part to the teaching part. He’d come to London because one of his favourite pole dancers was over from America to teach a two-day workshop at a local studio. Connor had managed to bag one of the highly coveted places and then promptly rang me up to tell me he was coming to stay.

We chatted happily as we walked down the road, casually avoiding the puddles as we filled each other in on any details about our lives we might have missed. That was the thing I loved most about Connor—no matter how long we were apart, we just picked right back up where we’d left off as if no time had passed.

“You know,” Connor said as we approached the flat. “If there is someone in your life, I really hope they’re not the kind of guy who’d get jealous over me kissing your cheek.” He looked almost sad for a moment, and I remembered what he’d said about one or two of his past boyfriends getting mad about how close he was to some of his male friends, myself included.

“Never, babe.” I dug in my pocket for my keys. “I’d never want someone like that. You’re too important to me.”

I already knew Simon liked Connor. They’d met a couple of times, and we’d all gone to Pride together. Connor had covered Simon in rainbow glitter and given him red lipstick to wear. He’d looked gorgeous, and I remembered thinking how sexy he was, even though we hadn’t started hooking up at that point.

Connor smiled. “Well, I’m still going to find out who it is before I go home. You’ve never not told me who you’re with, so I’m guessing he must be someone special.”

I knew he was deliberately trying to get me to give in, but his words were closer to the truth than he realised. I ignored him in favour of unlocking the door, calling out as it clicked open.

“I’m home! I need help. I found some weird rando at the station who insisted on following me home.”

“Oh yeah?” Simon’s voice called from the kitchen, accompanied by a low chuckle. “Are they nicer than you? If so, they can have your room, and you can leave.”

“You cheeky bastard!” I cried with mock horror, and I heard Connor laughing beside me. “And I thought we were friends.” I leant against the kitchen door, watching Simon stacking things in the fridge.

“I suppose,” he said, his voice trailing off as he turned to look at me. I knew why. The shirt I was wearing was nearly the same shade of pastel blue as the panties he’d been wearing the other night when I’d bent him over the bed and fucked him. I hadn’t let him take them off, just pushed them to the side. They’d looked so pretty against his skin I hadn’t been able to resist. They’d looked even prettier afterwards, soaked with cum.

Simon swallowed.

I smirked at him and winked. For a moment, I really wished Connor wasn’t here because there were so many things I wanted to do to Simon.

“It’s because I’m better than you, and you know it,” Connor said, interrupting my train of thought as he squeezed past me into the kitchen. “Simon!”

Simon chuckled as he was swept into another of Connor’s hugs, returning it with a soft smile. “Hey, Connor. It’s good to see you again. You look fabulous as always.”

“Thank you! I wasn’t sure because this jumper is getting kinda old.”

“It looks really pretty,” Simon said. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Not too bad, I managed to get a seat to myself. I spent the whole journey listening to music and planning routines. I want to enter pole competitions in the Professional category next year, so I need to get choreographing!”

“Well, let us know when they are, and we’ll come watch.” Simon smiled, picking up the last of his shopping and placing it in the fridge. Connor tilted his face, but I couldn’t quite see his expression. I knew what he was thinking though, because I was thinking the same. Simon had casually grouped him and I together, like we were a couple… There was no hesitation to his words either. I stared at him. Once upon a time that realisation would have terrified the fuck out of me, but now all I felt was this intense sense of longing because I wanted it to be true. I wanted us to be together more than anything else in the world.

I’d fallen for Simon hook, line, and sinker.

Connor turned, squinting at me as if he was trying to work something out.

Shit, I bet my longing was written all over my face. Nothing to do now except forcefully deny it until Connor went home. I’d deal with the rest of this shit then.

Simon closed the fridge, a contented smile on his lips. It made him look so beautiful, and I desperately wanted to kiss him.

“What time is the table booked for again?” he asked. I’d booked the three of us a table at Ruby’s, this amazing Asian street food pop-up that Simon said did the best ramen and fried chicken katsu curry that he’d ever had. He’d raved about it, and I thought it would be the perfect place for the three of us to go.

When I’d first asked Simon, he’d looked confused, like he hadn’t expected to be invited. I’d jokingly said I wasn’t leaving him at home with Steve to watch more of their fucking awful documentaries. I’d had enough nightmares from the one they’d been watching two weeks ago about some creepy asshole who turned his victims into dolls in his basement.

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