Page 54 of Someone Like You

There was a bench not too far ahead, but he was in too much pain to limp to it. The wet ground was the only viable option, he couldn’t possibly stand one second longer. He was about to ease himself down when, without a warning, Ian swept an arm under his knees and one around his back and lifted him up in an obnoxiously effortless bridal carry that actually managed to get a snort out of Phil.

“Fucking idiot.”

“And yet I don’t hear you complainin’.”

“I’m depressed, not stupid.”

Ian’s eyes locked into Phil’s with a sparkle that lost most of its mischief the moment Phil’s arms looped around his neck for support.

Talk about Hallmark movie moments.

Clearing his throat, Ian marched towards the bench, dropping several jaws as they passed a group of mothers pushing their strollers.

“If my husband could dothatto me, we’d have way more than two weans,” said one of them, and the rest of the group cackled loudly, heads turning to gawk at Ian’s back.

Phil couldn’t blame them. He wasn’t a small man: he was tall and still fairly muscular despite letting himself go. Two-hundred pounds werea lotto carry, but Ian made it look like it was a piece of cake, which would’ve been swoon-worthy even if he hadn’t looked likethat.

“Show-off,” Phil grumbled as he was carefully set down on the bench.

“Peasant.”

Without ceremony, Ian went down on one knee, propped Phil’s foot to his thigh and curled a hand around the calf, prodding experimentally. Phil hissed, gripping the edge of the bench.

“Sorry.” Ian kneaded more carefully, strong fingers moving over the tense muscle in expert moves from the ankle and up, then down and up again, all accompanied by faint grunts of concentration. The cramp was gone within seconds. “Better?”

“No.” Ian glanced up, confused, hand stilling behind Phil’s knee. Phil cracked a smirk. “You’re gonna give me a boner if you keep that up.”

The mischievous sparkle rekindled in Ian’s eyes. “You like methatmuch?”

“Hate to break it to you like this, but the little guy was on strike for a long while before we met you.”

Ian’s grip twitched around Phil’s calf. “You couldn’t—”

“Nope,” Phil affably confirmed. “But I cannow, so tone the gallantry down a notch, if you don’t mind. Jesus fuck, wipe that smug look off your face!” But that just obtained the opposite effect.

“Ye good here?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Ian plopped down on the bench, spreading his arms out along the backrest with a satisfied sigh. All Phil wanted was to lean back, too, use Ian’s meaty arm as a pillow and close his eyes, forget about the world, what was right or wrong, and justlivewithout thinking about consequences. He chose to lean forward instead, propping his elbows on his knees while pulling up the neckline of his t-shirt to wipe his face into it.

“Is it always gonna be like this for us?” he asked then, staring at the ground. “Playing flirty boyfriends like it’s a game until it’s so good it starts hurting?”

Ian scoffed. “Whendoesn’tit hurt?”

Head thrown back, eyes shut, the only sign of bitterness was in the dry sharpness of his tone. The truth in his words punched Phil so hard he was glad he was already sitting. There were good things and bad things in life, and you grew up with the naive belief thatgood was good and bad was bad and that everything was that simple, black or white, but that wasn’t always the case. Sometimes good things felt bad because they weren’t meant to happen and there was nothing to do about it. Impossibility made good things unbearable.

“If I didn’t have Abby…”

Ian’s eyes snapped open. “Don’t.” His neck craning to shoot Phil a pleading look. “Don’t do that.”

“I need to know.”

Ian pulled himself up and propped his elbows on his knees, too. A deep sigh got smothered by a large hand rubbing down his face. “What happened to‘in another life’?”

“You were right. We don’t have another life.”

“What difference would it make?”

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