Page 74 of Someone Like You

Because you shouldn’t have said it in the first place.

Because it would’ve made everything harder for the both of us.

Because I couldn’t have walked away from you if I’d admitted that.

But none of them mattered any more.

A lopsided smirk tugged at Ian’s lips. “I didn’t have Abigail’s blessing back then.”

Phil paled, jaw hanging slack. The puppy-dog look became a bizarre blend of disbelief, excitement, and hope. Ian pinched his bristly chin between his fingers, grinning wide.

“Let’s go inside before you freeze, you daft bastard.”

chapter 13

PHIL

He couldn’t imagine a more Scottish love confession.

Maybe if Ian had been wearing that beautiful kilt…

He was shivering and covered in goosebumps head to toe, but he couldn’t have cared less. He stood in Ian’s entryway, waiting to be told what to do because his brain wasn’t functioning at the moment. Ian hung his jacket, toed off his boots, then took a good look at Phil, who was so drenched he was dripping all over the floor.

“I’ve got a tumble drier, if you want.”

“Uh?”

“You look like a drowned rat.”

Drowned rat might have been a compliment. Phil felt more like a corpse fished out of a lake after a few days. The wet fabric clinging to his skin was numbing his libs, cold as ice.

“How long did you sit there?”

“I don’t know, half an hour?” Phil checked his watch. “Uh. More like an hour.”

Ian shot him awhat the fucklook.

“I was out for a run and just… found myself at your doorstep.” A violent shiver coursed down his spine.

Ian narrowed his eyes at him. “Clothes off before you catch pneumonia.”

“If you wanted me naked, you just had to ask,” Phil grumbled while struggling with the hoodie’s zipper. A part of him wanted to ask Ian to turn around, but he was all too aware of how childish it would have sounded. “It’s not much of a spectacle, anyway.”

He avoided mirrors when he wasn’t clothed. He knew he didn’t lookbad, but anyone who had seen his physique before depression had ruined his discipline would’ve had to admit he’d let himself go. He still had his muscles, but they’d lost all definition. His abs, once taut, had gone soft. The only reason his muffin top was barely noticeable was that his appetite had plummeted, even more so after starting the medication. Had it not been for Abby, he’d have starved himself to death.

Ian came forward, gently prying his hands away, and started to work on the jammed zipper. “What’s your idea of a spectacle?”

You, Phil thought, getting a meaningful eyeful of Ian’s figure. When his gaze lifted back up, it met a scolding frown.

The zipper went down. Ian helped him peel off the drenched hoodie, then the t-shirt underneath, dropping them both to the ground, then reached past him, grabbing a black hoodie from the rack by the door that he draped over Phil’s bare shoulders. It smelled like detergent and that familiar musky scent that translated toIanto Phil’s senses.

“Ask me what’s a spectacle to me.”

Phil swallowed. He wanted to cry.Again. But this time it was for a completely different reason. He also may or may not be dying to kiss Ian.

“What’s a spectacle to you?”

Ian’s hands rubbed over Phil’s arms, the friction producing a wonderful warmth. “The strength of a man who’s fighting battles that would crush me in a matter of days.” He pulled the hoodie snug around Phil’s trembling frame. “And that shit-eating glint in hiseyes when he outsmarts me. That one drives me insane.” Intent blue irises trailed down Phil’s torso, then up again. “It’s really obnoxious of you tobeas attractive as you look.”

---