Page 73 of Commitment Issues
Elliot shakes his head. “I’ll call a cab for half an hour’s time.”
He leans down and rifles through his clothes to find his phone, and I scramble from the bed, dashing for my dressing gown hanging from the hook on the back of the door, shy at him seeing my nakedness. Christ. The things, wonderful spine-tingling, sweaty, naked things we’d done together, and I’m shy?
I dash from the bedroom, throwing a quick glance over my shoulder, my heart skipping a beat as he orders a cab to take us home.
* * *
“Hey, Jasper.”
I kneel down beside the mutt who looks like he’s smiling and rub him behind his ears. He makes an odd squeaking noise in the back of his throat before it works its way up into a little yelp of a woof, and without thinking I drop a small kiss onto the rough fur on top of his head. A second later, he’s wriggling on his back, presenting his pink tummy for a rub.
“You’ve got a friend for life,” Elliot says.
I look up and find him smiling down at me and the dog, and holding two mugs of tea in his hands. I’d not even realised he’d put the kettle on because I’ve been so wrapped up in Jasper. Something in my chest hitches. The whole scene feels homely and domestic when it’s anything but. I push myself to standing and take one of the proffered mugs. We’re here to talk, and my nerves jangle as my stomach tightens.
Elliot sits down at the kitchen table and I follow him. I stare down at my mug, turning it around and around in my hands, hardly heeding the scalding heat. He wants to talk. He can start, because I’ve not got a clue where to begin.
“About last night — no, not just last night but about France, too. None of it was supposed to happen, but I don’t regret it.”
My heart flips and I look up at him. There’s a hesitancy in his eyes, and I know he has more to say. I wait, hardly daring to breathe.
“The age difference between us—”
“So?” I say.
“Doesn’t it bother you? Honestly?” He looks startled, as though he’s not expected me to be so blunt. “France was one thing, but—”
“No. It didn’t bother me in France, nor last night. I’m an adult, Elliot, not a kid. I made my own choices, both times.”
“I never said you were a kid. I’ve never regarded you like that.” He smiles, just for a moment. “You’re way too smart.”
“That’s what Viking studies does for you.”
He laughs, and shakes his head, his expression lighter, but almost immediately it falls away.
“I like you, Freddie. A lot. I’m not just talking about—well, you know. I likeyou.” He pushes his fingers through his hair, an almost nervous gesture that gives him away. “I love spending time with you, I want to keep spending time with you, but I need to be straight down the line, because it wouldn’t be fair otherwise. To either of us. I’m not ready to — to be involved again. Not properly. Not yet. I need breathing space.”
Breathing space, to get over Gavin.
“You’re not looking for a relationship. I get it, but you don’t hold the patent on that.” My words sound casual, almost glib, but they’re knives slicing into my throat. The truth is, I’m being ripped in two. I want him as much as I don’t want him, because I know the danger I’m on the edge of toppling into. “What is it you’re saying to me, Elliot?” I know, but I need to hear him say it.
And here we are, at the nub of it. He’s gazing at me, the air around us so charged, it’s as though a storm’s coming. My gut spasms, and my nerve endings burn. I know what he’s going to say, but still I sit and wait.
“I want to see you again. Like last night, but as friends.”
“As friends, because you need breathing space.”
“Yes.”
Friends. I have a choice, a decision to make, and I bite down on the word, sucking and savouring it. Tasting it. I know what he’s asking of me and I know I should leave and not look back.
As… friends.
I don’t do no strings. I don’t do casual. I don’t do friends with benefits. I’m an aberration, I’m out of kilter and out of step. I can’t fuck around with somebody because it’s convenient. Because convenient can be put aside as easily as it can be picked up.
“As friends?” I say again.
He nods.
