“What are you doing tonight?” Rhys blurted at the same time.
Jevon shook his head. “Damn. That didn’t work out. You go.”
“We’re due back in London at eight. If nothing comes up, I should be home by ten.”
Jevon nodded slowly, calculating his own timetable. He had a meeting in Bedford when he got back, but it would be the easiest thing in the world to reschedule it and get on a train to London instead.Screw it.“I can meet you somewhere... if you want? Grab a drink and a late dinner? I’ve got a key to Efe’s place, so I can sleep on her—”
Rough lips cut Jevon off. The kiss was harsh, brutal, and brief. And Rhys’s glare was fierce. He pressed a key into Jevon’s hand. “You’re not sleeping anywhere but with me. I’ve gotta run, but let yourself in whenever, okay? I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
He was gone before Jevon could answer, dashing away to get back on his helicopter, perhaps unaware that he was the only man on the planet who could make a tango-orange jumpsuit sexy.
Jevon shook his head, half convinced the entire exchange had been a dream, but the key in his hand was warm against his palm, and the curious stare of a nearby couple bored into the side of his head.
He spared them a glance, bracing himself for disgust or derision. After all, they weren’t in Vauxhall now, and Rhys had been in uniform. But to his surprise, the elderly couple smiled and waved, and Jevon realised they’d been upstairs with him on the oncology ward.
“Wonderful work you do,” the old man said. “We haven’t seen our wee girl smile like that in months.”
“Thank you.”
It was all Jevon could say.
* * *
Letting himself into Rhys’s flat felt all kinds of weird. Jevon’s gaze darted around the small space, half expecting Rhys to emerge from the kitchen or from the bathroom, wearing just a towel. But of course, he didn’t.
Jevon dropped the key on the coffee table and stashed his stuff in the hallway cupboard. Then he sat on the sofa and twiddled his thumbs, feeling no more at ease doing naff all than he had in Angelo’s flat ten days ago.
Shit. Has it been that long?
Yeah. It had. It really fucking had.
Jevon got up and paced the room. When he got bored with that, he opened Rhys’s fridge, rolling his eyes at the bare shelves.What does the boy eat?He already kind of knew the answer, but the Pot Noodle and baked beans in the cupboards still struck him as sad.
Resolved, Jevon left the flat again and crossed the road to the Asian supermarket. He bought real noodles, prawns, green vegetables, and bird’s eye chillies. In the spice aisle, he picked up ginger, garlic, and a hefty bottle of soy sauce. With a cheap wok under his arm, he made his way to the till. He was still wearing his bright clothes, but this was London, and no one gave a shit.
At the One Stop next door, he stocked up on bread and milk and all the things Rhys seemed to be lacking, then he went home—toRhys’shome—and put it all away.
The whole expedition had taken forty-three minutes, which still left three hours until Rhys was due home. Jevon sat on the sofa again, then on the bed when he unfolded it just for something to do. The TV held little interest, and Rhys didn’t seem to read books. He was on the verge of searching for a porn stash when he remembered the box under the bed.
Wow.Jevon had seen most of the toys over FaceTime, but that didn’t come close to seeing them in real life. Dildos, plugs, rings, and probes. Handcuffs, ropes, and about eighty-four gallons of lube. Inadequacy reared its ugly head, but Jevon fought it. And won. He remembered Rhys’s face when he’d come with Jevon’s name on his lips. And he believed him.
Setting the black cock from that night aside, Jevon rummaged through the box, searching for somethingwaysmaller. His hand brushed a civilised looking plug. He pulled it out and considered it, turning it this way and that. Its girth didn’t appear to be much more than Rhys’s fingers, but it had been a while sincethatnight, and however easy Rhys had made it look to take something inside him, the small plug was halfway to terrifying.
Still, Jevon kept hold of it—and a bottle of lube—while he packed the box away and slid it under the bed.
He shot Rhys a text.
J:Can I use your shower?
R:Of course
Awesome. Or was it? The butterflies having a rave in Jevon’s belly couldn’t quite decide. He shut down WhatsApp and started to toss his phone aside, but a work email buzzed through at the last second.
Jevon opened it with most of his mind already in the shower, just him, the butt plug, and a bottle of Wet. He’d read the message three times before it made any sense and his soul sank through the floor.
Fuck my life.
Thirteen