Page 72 of The Best of Times
“Don’t tell me it didn’t cross your mind.”
Aron shrugged. “Easy come, easy go.”
Paul cackled. “This devil-may-care act doesn’t work, you know.”
Aron rewarded him with a one-fingered salute which only brought out more amusement. He wasn’t about to tell Paul how happy he was. He’d learnt his lesson last time.
As they passed through the stations, he watched the travellers getting on and off. Other people’s lives always seemed so simple. Deep down, Aron knew they weren’t but at that moment his own world had never been so complicated.
Paul.
His mother.
His work.
All of it was in a state of flux. Yet there was only one he had any control over. He desperately wanted to discuss the British Library option with Paul. Yet, he couldn’t trust him not to panic and head for the airport.
Aron would be forty in a few years’ time. Would life ever become easier?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Merry Christmas.”
Aron opened his eyes. Paul knelt before him, wearing a Santa hat and nothing else. He looked perfect. Instantly Aron’s cock sprang to attention. The Paul Higgs effect was startling.
“Merry Christmas to you too,” he replied. “You look good enough to eat.”
Paul kissed him. Aron feared he would have morning breath.
Alas, I’m putty in this man’s hands. If he wants a little tongue action, who am I to refuse him?
The grandfather clock at the top of the stairs struck eight.
“Shit,” Paul said. “Dad will be here any minute.”
“How nice would it be to spend Christmas Day in bed?” Aron replied. He stretched.
Last year, Aron had done just that. Of course, he hadn’t had an invitation to the Higgs family Christmas. Granny had offered to come out but he would be depriving her of his siblings so he’d pretended to be going to a friend’s house on Long Island.
That wasn’t to say he hadn’t enjoyed his day. In preparation he’d gone to the market the day before and filled a basket with all his favourite foods. Then he’d enjoyed a running buffet while watching the best movies he could find.
There hadn’t been any arguments. Heaven.
“Come on,” Paul said, getting off the bed.
Aron obeyed. He padded over to the window. It was a dark morning yet mercifully dry. The huge marquee dominated the view. Unsurprisingly not one house had raised a complaint when he and Mercury had knocked on doors. He supposed it to be an act of survival on their part. Granny never forgot.
He smiled when he thought of his grandmother. He had her all to himself that morning.
“Right then,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get this Christmas show on the road.”
Paul drew him close and kissed him again. It was a long, luxurious Christmas kiss that sent shockwaves all over Aron’s body.
“You’ll have to keep until later,” Aron murmured.
“Not tonight, lover,” Paul replied. “The happy couple will have to sleep apart on the wedding eve.”
Aron ran his fingertip over Paul’s muscular shoulder. There was no way he was missing the chance to feel that body against his own on Christmas night.
