“I don’t think anything. I don’t know you.”
Billy’s gaze flickered. “And yet here I am off my nut on trammies in your bed. Strange how life works out.”
It really was. Billy got up and drifted to the bathroom. It crossed my mind that he wouldn’t come back, but I tidied the mugs and his bowl away all the same, and shifted over so he had more room. Wishful thinking? I had no idea, and I was out of spoons to think about it. My brain was noisy at the best of times, but some days with Billy, it quieted to a dull roar. Angsting over whether he’d come back to my bed wasn’t exactly peaceful, but it beat being alone. Like, really alone, with nothing for company but silence and shadows.
“You have the strangest face.”
I glanced up as Billy came back to the bed. “Uh, thanks? I guess? Unless it’s giving you nightmares.”
“As if. No. I meant that you have this chilled-out smile that doesn’t match the rest of it.”
“I’m not going to ask what that means. How’s the shoulder?”
“It’s there.”
“And the pain?”
“Same.”
“Same answer? Or it hurts as much as it did before?”
“The first one.” Billy shivered. “And it’s cold out there. Or maybe it’s that muscle relaxant shit you gave me. I’ve never taken them before. How do you say it? Amo-trippo-what?”
“Amitriptyline.” I jumped up as Billy swayed. “I gave you a half dose, but it can be pretty poky if you’re not used to it.”
Billy shivered again. Without thinking, I rubbed my hand up and down his good arm, massaging warmth into his cool skin. “Come on. Get comfy. We can watch something, if you like?”
“Watch what?”
“Uh...” I searched my limited knowledge of Netflix for something he might enjoy. “Vikings? Hot dudes, powerful women, fighting and fucking. Culture. Something for everyone. Ever seen it?”
“I don’t watch TV. Haven’t had one for years.”
I was still rubbing his arm. I forced myself to stop and moved back so he could get on the bed. Movement caused the duvet to bunch up by my knees. I let it be, and when Billy was settled, cautiously pulled it up and over him.
He eyed me with an expression I couldn’t decipher. “You don’t have to tuck me in.”
“I don’t want you to be cold.”
“That’s sweet, man. But at least get in the bed with me so we haven’t got some weirdo taxi situation going on.”
“What?”
“You know, like, if you give your mate a ride and they get in the back so you look like a taxi.”
He wasn’t making much sense, but if he wanted me in the bed with him, I wasn’t about to argue.
I slid under the duvet and cued upVikingson the TV. My bed had a memory foam mattress that sucked in anything of any weight and held tight all night long. I was hoping it would do Billy some good—if he stayed all night—but when I looked at him, despite the loopiness softening his features, he was shifting around, his discomfort clear. “Can you lie on your side?” I asked. “Your good side, I mean.”
“Dunno.” Billy manoeuvred himself so he was facing me. “Yeah. Guess I can.”
I wanted to mirror his pose. To roll over and scrutinise every inch of him in case I never got this close to him again. Logic told me we were this close every day in the van, or huddled on rooftops laying felt, but this was different. I could hear his slow breaths, smell his wood-smoke scent, and if I closed my eyes, it was easy to imagine the thumping in my ears was his heartbeat, not mine.
Billy shivered again. I pressed play on the TV and lifted my arm. “Come closer. It’s a waste of time if you’re cold anyway.”
“Dude, if I get any closer, I’ll be lying on top of you.”
“So?”
The word was out of my mouth before I could catch it. Every nerve in my body cringed, but I forced myself to keep my eyes on the TV screen. Norse gods lit up the darkened room. Longboats and swords. Ragnar and his warrior wife.
Billy moved, and his legs brushed mine, then his hip. His chest hit my ribs. Warmth flowed between us. I settled my arm around him, keeping clear of his painful shoulder. For a long moment, Billy was as tense as his dose of amitriptyline would allow, then the rigidity seemed to drain from him, and he dropped his head on my chest like he’d done it a thousand times. “I can’t decide if the dude or the woman is hotter.”
I smiled in the darkness. “Isn’t that the point of being bi? That you don’t have to?”
“Hmm. I suppose.”
His slow breaths evened out. He was fading. If we’d been different people who’d lived different lives to get to this point, I might’ve rubbed his back, or tangled my fingers in his soft hair. But we were the same people we’d always been, so I settled into a gentle wave of regret, and watched him fall asleep.