Page 13 of Take My Breath Away
“Thank you. For… Well, you know.”
He doesn’t say anything, just gives me a light smile as I get up and stagger out of the kitchen, too numb and too weary to even try and think.
Back in the comfortable bedroom, I pull the curtains closed to block out the bright sunlight. Moments later I’m burrowing under the duvet, drawing it up over my head as I let myself sink into the dark warmth where everything’s quiet and safe.
Just a few nights… maybe a week or two…that’s all…
Chapter Seven
JAMES
Saturday night, and instead of being at a bar, club or party, I’m sitting in front of the TV with a curry I’ve had delivered, and a Cobra beer. It’s an almost unique situation, because I can’t remember the last time I was at home like this.
Upstairs, Perry’s asleep, and he has been for hours. I looked in on him a couple of times, just put my head around the door. He won’t stir until morning, but it’s got less to do with the mild sedative I gave him than his own mental and emotional exhaustion.
I’ve no qualms about what I did to that bastard Grant. I’m not a violent man by nature, but I know how to be violent, in a controlled and measured way. How much to inflict, how far to go, how to damage without endangering life. An army career, followed by the police, taught me certain skills that have come in useful, from time to time, and they came in useful today.
I think I hear a noise from above, and I mute the TV. Has Perry woken up? I strain my ears to listen, but hear nothing more. Instead of turning the sound on the TV back on, I leave it. Dumping my plate on the coffee table I slump back into the sofa and let my thoughts roam.
Thank God I found Perry in Bert’s. He needed rescuing. It’s as simple as that, or it is to me. My stomach clenches and the heavy curry I’ve eaten feels like lead in my guts, and I push down the anger that’s surging up in me. He’s such a sweetheart, so how he got himself mixed up with a shit like Grant… I unclench the fists my hands have balled into. He can stay here for as long as he wants, but there’s no denying it does bring with it some complications due to the nature of my private life.
Elliot, rather sniffily I’ve always thought, describes my bed as being akin to a revolving door: as one man gets out, another gets in. There’s been a lot of truth in that, but not so much lately.
Bringing home random men has lost some of its savour, in just the same way the bars and clubs that have been a second home to me over the years have lost their allure, and more often than not I leave early and alone. The nameless pick-ups might have fallen by the wayside, but there is Aiden, whom I see on a semi-regular basis.
It’s a loose arrangement, and it suits us both. I like him. He’s smart, with a sharp mind hidden behind the gym bunny body and we’ve even been known to have proper, adult conversations, but there’s no illusion we’re in any kind of relationship beyond the physical. There’s no attachment, and that’s the understanding. He’s stayed over on a few occasions, but only because we’ve both all but passed out with exhaustion, yet even so he’s been up and out the door early the next day. There’s certainly been no long or leisurely breakfast or talk of brunch. That’s not the deal, and we both know it. Now, though, Perry’s here, and that makes a difference.
I gather up the crockery and after I stack it in the dishwasher I go back to surfing the TV, when my phone buzzes. Talk of the devil.
I read Aiden’s message. To the point, it’s almost terse.
Where are you?
At home, I thumb in.
I can come round.
I stare at the message. Any other Saturday night or indeed any night I was home I’d be keying in yes and looking forward to some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had.
I glance up at the ceiling. But not tonight.
No. I’ve got somebody staying.
A guy?
Yes. A friend.
He can join in. Three’s fun.
I’m frowning. The suggestion feels wrong and disturbing in a way I can’t quite define. My stomach turns over, but it’s got nothing to do with the heavy food I’ve just eaten. I take a deep breath, because Aiden’s not to know, he’s just reacting to what he knows of me.
You there?
I’ve been staring at the screen for several seconds, so I thumb in the reply.
No threesomes. He’s staying with me for a while.
He’s hampering your style. You can come to mine.
