“I’d never ask him to do that. Everyone else has to wait their turn, why not me?”
“That’s admirable, but I doubt Marc would see it that way. Helping his friends is who he is. I’d imagine it’s killing him that you won’t let him.”
Jamie shrugged. “He helps me loads. I think I’d go mad sometimes if he wasn’t in my life.”
Connor cracked a beer open and motioned for Jamie to follow him into the living room. Jamie eyed the soapsuds on the draining board—soggy dust to the twitch in his fingers. But today was a good day, despite the fact that he’d spent much of it worrying about Marc. He’d sworn to Jamie that he rarely used the tramadol from the upstairs cupboard, but with lines of pain etched on his face, he’d been less than convincing.
“Jamie?”
“Hmm?”
Connor smiled and handed him the water he’d left behind after dinner. “I was saying that it can be hard to be close to military blokes. Marc’s more laid-back than some, but you can’t take the soldier from a man.”
Curious, in spite of his wandering mind, Jamie leaned forward. “What’s Nat like?”
“Complicated.”
“He seems moody.”
“He is, but aren’t we all? It’s been a long time since I met someone perpetually cheerful.”
“There’s loads of them in California. Drove me mad.”
“I’ll bet. I’d take a grumpy soldier over them any day. Besides, it’s not so bad when you get the hang of figuring out what they’re trying to say when they don’t speak.”
“You mean like Army stuff?” Jamie glanced around the living room. The shelves were crammed full of books that he presumed to be Connor’s, but there was no sign of Nat’s military life, save a pair of battered combat boots by the door. And if Jamie’s suspicion about their Hereford location was correct, that shit made sense.SAS. Jesus.“Marc doesn’t talk much about that.”
“They don’t, generally, but I was actually talking more about real life—civilian life. There’s no room for emotions in combat—it’s a fight to survive—and Marc was in the field longer than Nat.”
Jamie couldn’t bear to think of Marc in danger, even though the worst had already happened, but Connor’s logic touched a nerve. He thought of the odd submissive hesitancy he’d seen in Marc every time they’d given in to the smouldering heat between them. The way he’d lain back and urged Jamie to take what he wanted. As hot as that was, it had always felt off—and it wasn’t just that Jamie so desperately desired Marc to throw him down and turn him inside out.Why does he want me to be in control?Jamie had no answer, but there was something there. He knew it.
He spent the rest of the evening with Connor, talking mostly about Nat and Marc, and only a little bit about themselves. Connor spoke like Marc and Jamie were as together as him and Nat, and the moment to correct him passed Jamie by. Or maybe he didn’t want to. He’d never had a boyfriend before—a lover, a partner. Did he want that? Did Marc?Who cares?Sitting in Connor and Nat’s cosy living room, drinking tea, and talking about Marc like there was no one else in the world was a balm to Jamie’s soul, though he knew it couldn’t last forever.
The bubble burst around ten o’clock when Marc and Nat came back from the pub. Connor offered Marc and Jamie a bed for the night, but Marc seemed eager to get home. “Trust me,” he said. “You don’t want to kip in a room next to these two. I’d rather swim home.”
Connor opened his mouth, but Nat nudged him and then stepped forward and enveloped Jamie in a brief hug that caught him off guard. “Nice to meet you, kid. Look after the good doctor, yeah? Motherfucker’s earned it.”
He backed off before Jamie could respond, and Connor’s goodbye was less intense, though warm enough to make Jamie feel like crying as he pressed a card into Jamie’s hand. “Call me, email, whatever. I’m always around.”
That probably wasn’t strictly true if what Connor had told him about his working habits was accurate, but the sentiment meant a lot. He pocketed Connor’s card and trailed Marc out to the car.
“I like your friends,” he said when they’d hit the road.
Marc smiled softly. “So do I. I should spend more time with them really, but— Shit, I don’t know.”
“You’re worried that they see you too well?”
“Something like that.”
“I haven’t seen Zac since I got clean. I don’t want him to look at me and see that I might still fuck his life up.”
“He might fuck his life up too. He’s as much an addict as you are.”
Jamie didn’t agree—how could he when Zac had turned his back on junk while Jamie had still been shoving it in his face every day?—but he said nothing, until Connor’s unspoken retort flashed into his mind and a vague suspicion suddenly clicked into place. “Have you fucked them?”
“Who?”
“Nat and Connor. There’s a vibe there, I know it.”