Page 35 of Drink Up, Darling
“Nothing is stupid. Not tonight. What do you want?”
“I want it to be pleasant. I want my dying moments to be blissful, to make mefeel,and I want my last breath to be one of relief. I have lived this life, it was set out for me, but now it is time to leave. I do not wish to grow old, ha.” Godwin swallowed and closed his eyes with a ghost of a smile across his lips. “I want one last moment to remember what I once had.” He sighed as if it were already his last breath, pausing before he finished and dipping his head once more. “It is pathetic really, and onlyattests to the selfishness that has always lain within me—this lust—but it is what I wish for.”
Dariel scowled. Then his face softened.
‘Did you hear that?’
‘I…huh.’
“Well, Godwin Peters,” Athens patted him on the back, “If you’re asking a man into your bed, you could at least show him your record collection first.”
Chapter Nine
Dariel didn’t know how to feel. He’d gone through every emotion he had the ability to experience in such a short space of time, and it made him rather nauseous.
Godwin led the way upstairs, nodding to himself. Athens turned back to Dariel with a tongue-in-cheek side eye.
It was clear now why the upstairs had been out of bounds.
Godwin hadn’t wanted them to know his plan yet. He’d wanted to get to know them both before he asked them what he just did.
The bedroom.
When Godwin’s confession emerged, Dariel was immediately shocked—thenintrigued.He wanted to die, which hurt Dariel a great deal, but before his death, he desired a bed partner. One final time.To die with relief.
The thought sent blood rushing to Dariel’s cheeks—the constant anatomical marvel he would never understand.
He shook the question away, not wanting to dwell on the sensations the thought of being in Godwin’s bed with the man by his side,on top of him,made him feel. He focused on Godwin’s back up the stairs: the way he slightly favoured his right side, the ruffle of his shirt under the superbly fitted waist coat, and themultitude of colours woven into his hair—all silver and gold and sun-spun silk.
Stop it, Dariel. He said it himself! He had not expected you both. It was Athens who promised to grant his wish. You will be on your way soon. No longer needed.
But the very idea of the slender, leather clad, obsidian dream of a man taking Godwin to bed alone was torture. And Dariel didn’t quite know who he was more jealous of.
He noted the hot peach flush to Godwin’s cheeks as he turned to the top of the stairs, then his eyes lowered to the banister, and to the onyx, slightly pointed nails on each now ringless finger of Athens’ hand.
You really must stop this, Dariel. It will do you no good.
‘What are you thinking, darling?’
Dariel stopped dead, three steps from the top, the other two men staring down, waiting for him.
‘Oh, I… I’m not quite sure.’
‘Your mind seemed occupied. Do not worry, I have this whole evening under control.’
Dariel attempted to smile, nodding his head subtly as he reached the top.
Athens raised his arm out to clap a hand on Dariel’s back, which made him shudder.
Don’t tease me, please.Though how could he forget the way Athens had spoken to him earlier? Had that all been a ruse? Or did Athens really still like him?You only met this evening.
It confused him, and the past half an hour had done nothing to help ease his mind in any way.
“It’s err, right this way, gents,” Godwin said with his hands on his hips. If he noticed any intimacy to the patting gesture, he did not show it. He guided the pair of them towards a far door—one they hadn’t gotten around to trying earlier.
Godwin produced a bunch of keys from his pocket—quite a large bunch they were—and unlocked the door to reveal a relatively small room in comparison to most others they’d seen. It was still larger than any spare room Dariel had owned though, even in his richest days.
It was a cold, cream painted room that smelled slightly foisty, with the two sash windows on the far wall sealed shut with glossy white paint. In one corner stood a green velvet chaise lounge, rimmed in ornate brass, and behind it was a wall of built-in shelves with glass doors. On the right wall closest to the door stood a relatively retro record player, but far more modern than Dariel expected. Something that may have been state of the art some thirty years ago, but now a worn and slightly dented sign of the times. Two large speakers were bolted to the wall above it, the metal supports having been painted over a number of times to be concealed. The floor was covered in a deep green carpet, which was notably thread bare in some patches. This struck Dariel as a once loved room, but one that had not been touched in a number of years. A collection of framed posters were stacked in the corner, the front showing a deep blue image of someone swimming?—
