Page 68 of Someone Like You

Abby’s grip tightened around him. “My job is to love you, respect you, and support you. I was terrified the depression was getting bad again…” She pulled away to take his face into her hands, dark eyes sparkling. “But no, my silly goose was just moping ’cause he fancies a boy!”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m justsorelieved…”

“What do we do now?”

“Do you really love him?”

Phil would’ve loved Ian even if he’d been a character in a book, made of ink and paper, a soul without a body. His quips and taunts,the mischief and the kindness coexisting in his eyes, and those damn dimples at the edge of the beard…

He should’ve probably shown some semblance of doubt, but his response was swift and unflinching: “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Does he love you?”

“Who the fuck knows? I think so?” Phil let out a little self-conscious laugh. He was positive Ian cared about him and was attracted to him, but he couldn’t fathom the real depth of it, although Ian’s looks and gestures had spoken those three words many, many times. “That man is weird.”

“Have youtoldhim?”

“Yeah. But he was too preoccupied with not disrespecting you to pay attention, I guess.”

“Well, you should tell him again.”

Phil hung his head. “He doesn’t want to see me. Doesn’t want to bethe other guy.”

“A real gentleman… No wonder you’re so smitten.” Abby ran a hand through his damp hair, smoothing it back in a slow, calming motion. “Everything’s going to be okay, you’ll see,” she promised. “We’re going to make this right.”

Phil felt like nothing would really beokayagain.

Now that he’d come clean with her, he knew he and Abby would be fine as a couple, but he, as an individual, would always be limping from now on.

Without Ian, something would always be missing.

chapter 12

IAN

Sweat dripped into his eyes, the burn of the salt as grounding as the burn in his exerted muscles. Back arched off the bench, he pushed the barbell up one last time, failure hitting just as the bar fell back into its hooks. He thanked the random guy for spotting him, then picked up his towel and his bottle and took a moment to rest, barely hearing the music in his ears

It’d been a tough week.

A week without seeing or hearing from Phil.

A week without Phil’s smart mouth sweetly driving him insane.

He knew he was still going to the gym and to the café because Najeer and Sandra had told him. They had different schedules, Ian being an early bird and Phil a night owl, so the chances they’d run into each other were slim, but Ian always kept an eye out, just in case. He wished he could say he did that to avoid Phil, but the truth was that he was desperate to just catch a glimpse of him, to see how he was doing.

To see if he was okay.

The bite of nostalgia forced him to shut his eyes to re-centre himself.

He drank, hoping the water would wash down the bitter taste in his mouth, but, predictably, it didn’t do much. After cleaning up the bench, he moved to a corner to stretch, then wrapped up the workout with a cool-down walk on the treadmill. He skipped all the songs on the playlist until he found one he didn’t hate, only to realise halfway through it, when he actually started listening, that, in fact, he hated it more than all the previous ones.

Till now, I always got by on my own, I never really cared until I me—

Skip.

Another poignant ballad came up, but at least it was in a language he couldn’t understand. Good enough. Whoever had made this playlist must have gone through some pretty bad heartache. Not that hecouldn’trelate… It was just the last thing he wanted to think about.

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