Page 68 of The Light Within

“You can borrow this while I’m gone. Wear it or whatever. If you want.”

There weren’t many moments of his life where Julien had been shocked into silence, but this was one of them. Julien’s mouth refused to move, and he openly gaped at Cinn, who’d flushed red.

“Or not,” Cinn mumbled, looking anywhere but Julien. Then he reached over to take the hoodie back.

“Non! It’s mine now.” Julien gripped the fabric tighter than he’d ever held anything before. “You’re not getting it back.”Everwas the unspoken word.

Was it normal to have heart palpitations over a hoodie? To feel like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, exhilarated and terrified all at once?

“Fine then,” Cinn said, tugging on his green beanie.

He turned to leave.

“Wait,” said Julien.

Cinnfroze.

“One more kiss. On my forehead. For my headache.”

Cinn pressed his lips between Julien’s brows, one quick, firm kiss while his hand brushed over the mess of Julien’s hair.

When Cinn closed the bedroom door with a soft click, Julien expected his heart to sink, but it stayed firmly put, lodged securely in its place by Cinn’s words and the hoodie Julien put straight on. It was baggy on Cinn, even larger on Julien’s more slender frame.

He nestled straight back under the duvet, lulled back to sleep by the faint smell of Cinn on the sweatshirt. Ignoring the lingering smell of cigarettes, he focussed on cocoa powder and lemon shampoo.

It was way past noon when Julien stumbled into the kitchen in search of painkillers.

“Darcy!” Julien’s shock at her sudden return gave way to delight.

Hair damp from the shower, Darcy gave him a tired smile. “He’s okay. Up and walking and everything. They’re organising for him to fly home to Scotland later.”

Julien scooped her up into a hug, pressing her tightly against his chest. She was warm, and her woollen dress was soft.

“It’s all fine for now. Thank God.” She sighed into his shoulder. “One of these days it’s not going to be fine though, is it?” Darcy pulled away, red rimming her eyes.

A true pessimist at heart, Julien always struggled to comfort others. But he tried. “He’s doing better. Hold on to that for now,” he replied, switching on the kettle and reaching for the new tea Cinn bought her. “Shall I—” Facing the wall, he grimaced. “I could see if my father can do anything to speed up the pacemaker. He’s got to be good for something, right?”

Darcy scrunched up her nose. “After that last conversation with him, when he was weird about wanting Cinn? No thanks. My mum has people on it, anyway.”

Julien nodded, relieved. His father would have absolutelylovedit if Julien came begging at his door.

“Hey.” Darcy plucked at the sleeve of Cinn’s hoodie. “Your current outfit reminds me I have a bone to pick with you.” Her gaze narrowed, spelling trouble.

“What could I have possibly done now?” Julien groaned.

“When we were all tidying up in the kitchen, without you—”

“I don’t like this accusation.”

“No, shut up. My mum was talking to Cinn, and referred to you as his boyfriend.”

This was certainly going in an odd direction. “Okay…” Julien said slowly.

“Well, he just about had a breakdown over the word. Almost died trying to correct her, getting completely tongue-tied. At the time I was wetting myself in the background, then I realised the poor sod was genuinely worried.”

“What? Why was he trying to correct her?”

“Exactly, Julien! Why, indeed?”

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