Page 44 of Strawberry Kisses

Chapter Nineteen

Connor

Patrick and I didn’t go back to the party. Too much had happened, and neither of us were ready to burst our bubble and face reality again.

Instead, we’d cleaned up with the box of tissues on the bedside table, shrugged on our shirts and trousers, and pottered down to the kitchen. Apart from my lipstick, my make-up was still perfectly in place, and the lipstick was easily removable. Anyone who saw us would have guessed in a heartbeat what we’d been doing, but I didn’t care. I’d finally had a taste of Patrick, and my entire world had shifted. I knew that no matter what happened, things were never going to go back to the way they’d been before.

We could pretend, sure, but that didn’t actually mean shit. I’d always know what Patrick’s mouth felt like on my nipples, the way his cock had felt against mine, and the face he made when he came. The possessive part of me revelled in the fact that I’d been the first person to see Patrick like that. That would be mine and mine alone, and I loved it.

I’d always been a bit of a jealous, possessive bitch, but I worked hard to keep a lid on it. I didn’t like sharing things that were mine. Maybe it was an only child thing. Maybe it was just a me thing. All I knew was that I was going to have a hard time giving Patrick up, and it was going to hurt like a bitch when I did.

Maybe I should just put a Tesco order in now to stock up on ice cream, tissues, and alcohol for Monday night when we went home. I doubted it was going to be pretty when it finally hit me. I’d always been an ugly crier.

Part of me, the possessive part, was wondering why things had to end at all? Why couldn’t I keep Patrick all for myself? After all, we were clearly compatible in some ways. I’d always wanted a sweet, soft, submissive man who’d let me take charge, and Patrick ticked so many of those boxes it was unreal. The way he’d craved my praise and tried so hard to please me made me want to spoil him rotten now and forever. He was clearly a fast learner if the way he’d brought me tantalisingly close with his mouth on my nipples was anything to go by. I couldn’t wait to see what happened next time.

If there even was a next time. Should there be a next time?

Should there have even been a this time?

“Hey, the cake is still here. Do you want some?” Patrick’s soft voice derailed my train of thought, and just in time too. There was absolutely no need for me to go down that path and end up cross with myself for something we’d both wanted. It had happened, and I couldn’t change that now.

“Um, sure. Will people mind if we eat it?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, our other option is to go back to the party.”

“Then give me that cake.” I chuckled, and so did Patrick. He pulled the cake out of the fridge and took it into the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the block on the side. He quickly plated up two large pieces and dug forks out of a drawer.

“Let’s go sit outside,” he said. “There’s some garden furniture out there, and it’s got a nice view.”

“Okay.” I followed Patrick through the house into the back garden. I stopped as I stepped outside, the sight taking my breath away. The cottage’s back garden sloped downwards and overlooked a rolling expanse of sharp hills decorated with fields and pastures with a brook cutting its way through the grass. There were old stone walls and horses grazing, and in the distance, I saw woodlands off to one side. It was picture perfect but in an imperfect way. This wasn’t a cookie-cutter countryside view. There was a wild, rough edge to it. It made me want to start walking, taking Patrick with me as we explored every inch of it.

“Wow.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. With all the excitement of the party and the busyness of last night, I hadn’t seen this before. Now I was almost upset at Patrick for depriving me. Except that wasn’t true because I could never be upset with Patrick. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is.” Patrick sounded almost melancholy as if he’d forgotten what this looked like. When was the last time he’d been back here?

He directed me to some rattan furniture with dark-blue cushions, and I curled up next to him on a two-seater sofa that had the best view. We ate in silence. The cake was delicious, but I was distracted from enjoying it because I suddenly had questions I wanted to ask. I just wasn’t sure where to start.

“Why did you leave?” I asked finally. Patrick looked at me, confused. I hadn’t phrased that the right way. I nibbled on a bit of strawberry while I tried to put my thoughts in order. “I mean, is there a reason you never moved back here? After you finished training. Like your whole family is here, or like an hour away, and you moved halfway across the country. I mean, I know Aaron and Ben offered you the job, and they picked Nottingham because that’s where the pub was, but I just wondered if there was more of a reason?”

Patrick was quiet for a second, his eyes fixed on the skyline. “I thought about it, but I never felt like I fit in here. I was so much younger than everyone else, and I was often by myself. I wasn’t interested in horses or following in Da’s footsteps, and I just… It felt like there was something missing.” He sighed. “I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“No, I get it.” I shifted, nuzzling up against his shoulder. He put his arm around me, and I snuggled into his chest. I loved it when he held me like this. We’d been cuddling like this for years, but now it suddenly felt infinitely more meaningful. “I think a lot of queer people feel that, especially when you haven’t really figured it out yet. Like there’s a piece of you missing, but you don’t know what it is.”

He nodded. “Something like that. I know my family loves me, but I wanted to be my own person for a while. And here that’s hard.”

“I can see that.”

“Besides, I wasn’t sure how long Mum could manage to go without trying to set me up on dates. Her heart was in the right place, but every time she mentioned dating girls—”

“It felt wrong?”

“Yeah. I mean, girls are lovely but not really for me.” Patrick shook his head, smiling wryly. “It still took me a while to figure it out though.”

“What was the breaking point?” I asked. “Suddenly realise you were more interested in the dicks in porn? Or did you just see a really hot shirtless guy one day?”

“No, actually. Well, seeing Chris Hemsworth shirtless in Thor might have helped, but it was something really silly.”

“No such thing.” I nudged him and gave him my best encouraging smile. “Seriously. There isn’t. You know you can tell me anything.”

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