Page 34 of Screens Apart

It was everything I’d ever wanted.

I woke up warm, comfortable, and unwilling to move.

Something in the back of my mind told me it was Tuesday, but it was too dark to tell what time it was. I was vaguely aware I didn’t feel quite as sore and headachy, and for the first time since Saturday night, I could breathe through my nose again. That probably meant I should go to work today, but I was too cosy, and I didn’t even want to think about leaving my bed.

A hand tightened around my waist, and I froze for a second. Then Taylor’s voice came from behind me. “Go back to sleep.” He sounded slightly hoarse and sniffly, but I couldn’t work out whether that was because he’d just woken up or because he was coming down with my cold.

“What time is it?” I asked, leaning back into Taylor’s embrace.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“What about work?” I was attempting to be the responsible adult here, but I knew I sounded half-hearted at best. I just wanted to stay here forever, wrapped in Taylor’s arms. Work would manage without me for one more day, and I didn’t want to pass the bug on to anyone…

“You’re still sick, and I’m getting sick,” Taylor said. “My head is killing me, and I can’t breathe. So I’m making an executive decision. We’re calling in sick, staying here all day, cuddling, and watching Netflix.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” I grasped Taylor’s hand in my own and interlaced our fingers. His skin was a little cold to the touch. It was probably better to be safe rather than sorry.

We spent the whole day in bed doing very little.

We watched a couple of movies snuggled up together, and I periodically got up to fetch water and pills for Taylor, and at lunch time I made us some cheese toasties. Taylor looked ridiculously surprised when I handed his to him, like he’d never had someone make him food when he was sick.

The flare of emotion in my chest confirmed everything I already knew.

I was utterly and truly in love with him. I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it. And I needed him to know that.

All I could do was hope he loved me too.

Part Five: Love

Taylor

Standing outside Putney Bridge Tube station while it poured it with rain was not how I’d envisioned spending my Friday afternoon.

Luckily, I had both a large umbrella, courtesy of Simon, and an awning to stand under. That meant I was relatively dry, but considering I was just recovering from a bad cold, I wasn’t sure standing out in the freezing November rain was healthy. If I got sick again, I was one thousand percent blaming Connor.

Connor was my childhood best friend, who I’d met when I was twelve and we’d been forced to sit next to each other by our new high school maths teacher. We’d spent the first six weeks ignoring each other and then eventually bonded over a shared dislike of the band McFly, when all the girls in our class had been fawning over them. We’d been thick as thieves ever since, and our friendship had survived everything from family illnesses to bad breakups and Connor’s fake tan and glitter lip gloss period. Although to be fair to him, we’d been teenagers in Essex in the early 2000s. I was one of the only people in our class who hadn’t gone through being various shades of orange.

Thankfully, Connor’s make-up skills had improved a fuck-ton since then.

My phone flashed in my hand and a message from the man in question popped up on the screen, telling me his train was just pulling into the station. I smiled at the number of little sparkling hearts that followed his words. I hadn’t seen Connor since the summer when he’d come down to London for Pride, and I’d missed him.

He was easy to spot as he walked through the crowd. He was petite and looked like he’d just stepped off a runway in dark skinny jeans, knee-high heeled boots, a cream sweater, and a loose, black wool coat. His make-up was flawless as usual, and I wondered how he managed to look like a million bucks after spending three hours on a packed train while I looked like a sweaty mess after just ten minutes.

“Taylor!” Connor launched himself at me, wrapping himself around my waist and giving me an enormous hug, squeezing me so tightly I thought I was going to pass out. For someone so slim and petite, I was pretty convinced Connor could flaw me in a single punch if he wanted. He could probably take Simon too.

“Hey, babe! It’s good to see you again,” I said, once he’d let go and allowed air to return to my lungs. Connor flashed me a warm, cheeky smile.

“I know. However have you survived without me?”

“Drinking mostly.”

“I missed you too.” Connor laughed, kissing me lightly on the cheek.

“That better not leave a mark.” The days when Connor had worn sticky lip glosses had been the bane of my existence. My cheeks had been permanently covered in glittery pink goo that refused to be wiped off.

“Please, I use better products than that,” Connor said, then he smiled deviously. “Why? Got someone in your life who wouldn’t want you being kissed?”

“No,” I said, but even I heard the catch in my voice. Dammit! I’d already asked Simon if we could keep the whole whatever we were doing away from Connor because he could be ridiculously nosey when he wanted to be, and I didn’t want to spend my whole night being given the third degree. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t told Connor about what we were doing, since I’d never been shy about my sex life before. It was probably because it involved Simon, and he deserved better.

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