Page 74 of Sparring Partners
* * *
Adrian settled down on the sofa next to Luca. This was the part of the day he liked best. A long day’s work behind the two of them, dinner eaten, a time to kick back and relax. The quiet time, as he’d learnt how to think of it. He wrapped an arm around Luca, who snuggled into him.
“Spain was wonderful, but this is better.”
Adrian snorted. “Rain and wind? And temperatures hardly breaking double figures?”
“You know what I mean.”
And Adrian did. This, here, the two of them. Sharing a home and a life. A life that had almost been snatched from them. He shivered, as the fear of what might have been rippled through him.
“Adrian?” Luca gazed up at him, his eyes soft yet challenging.
“I’m fine,” he said, brushing a soft kiss to Luca’s lips. “More than I deserve to?—”
“Hey, stop that. Right now. You remember what Claudia said?”
“I know, I know?—”
“And?”
Adrian sighed. Luca wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “That I deserve to love and to be loved, with truth and integrity. But for it to be so I have to believe it, in my head and in my heart.”
“She’s right.” Luca settled back against Adrian. “She’s been good for you. When’s your next appointment?”
“Wednesday evening.”
Every week, via video call. It had been Luca’s non-negotiable proviso: he was to seek professional help, the knot of his fear and distrust was pulled too tight for them to unpick alone.
He’d squirmed, his natural response to resist, to answer with a flat, hard no. But there had been no choice. Without taking the first, stumbling steps to prove he was determined to change, to become the better man he craved so much to be, one not corroded by the acid of distrust and fear for what might happen, there would be no Luca in his life. The ultimatum had been stark. Black and white. No debate.
“She said, when I spoke to her just before we went away, that she believed we might be able to go down to meeting every other week.”
Luca sat up and stared at him, a bright smile lighting up his face. “That’s great. Shows she thinks there’s been a lot of progress. I’m so proud of you. I know it’s been difficult.” He placed a palm against Adrian’s cheek.
“Yeah.” Adrian’s throat thickened “It’s helped. I had my doubts, at first, but it has. I feel sort of lighter afterwards. Knackered, and wrung out, but better.”
Who would have known that the plump mature lady, with the soft smile and an outdated tight perm, a mature lady who’d reminded him from the start of the grandmother he’d loved so much, would reduce him to tears with only a few seemingly simple questions? Questions that ripped through his armour, their sharp tips spearing into all the fear entrenched in his heart. The tears were less, now, and so was the fear. Little by little, piece by piece, he was becoming that better man.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Luca said, his gaze darting away for a second before coming back to meet Adrian’s. “Okay,” he said with a sigh, “not exactly forgot, but… Look, when I went into Love’s Harbour today, in the estate agent’s window there was a photo of a house for sale.”
“That’s novel. Makes a change from photographs of potatoes and examples of bad taxidermy.”
Luca huffed and attempted to look affronted. “Not just any house, but Jonathan’s. So… so I took a chance, and went around to see him. I caught him just as he was leaving to go to London for a few days. He’s selling up here and moving back, to be with the guy he’s met.”
“Sounds like it’s serious.”
“I think so. And I’m glad he’s found somebody.”
Adrian nodded, and pulled Luca back into him. No tightening of the muscles in his neck or shoulders, no hard clenching of his jaw, no buttons being pushed and held down hard. Jonathan had become as insubstantial as a fading dream, yet he wouldn’t lie to himself. He was glad of the news that the man would soon be going, and vanishing for good. But he didn’t want to think about Jonathan, not when he had other, more pressing things on his mind.
“Let’s go to bed.”
* * *
The sheets felt good, cool against Luca’s naked skin, but nothing compared to the intense heat radiating from Adrian’s muscular body pressed against his own. A shiver ran through him as Adrian’s rough, calloused hands roamed down his back, barely grazing over his arse before retracing their path. Strong, calloused, roughened hands, the hands of a man who worked the land, hands that could feel like the softest whisper of silk.
“God, it feels so good to be home,” Adrian murmured in a low, raspy voice that vibrated through every part of Luca.
