Heart (18 page)

Dex nodded and tucked his hands under his arms, wishing he’d brought his new gloves outside. “I’m good.”

“That you are. Bit of luck for both of us you just so happened to be passing by that day, eh? Kitchen would feel bloody strange without you now. How’s the literacy going?”

“Good… I think. I can write some stuff now.”

Rick smiled and looked up at the sky. “So I saw.”

On cue, Seb appeared at the back door, the green paper bag in his left hand. Rick shot him a knowing look and shuffled back inside.

“So….” Seb let the word hang.

Dex stared at him, entranced by the reflection of the shimmering stars in his eyes. “So.”

Seb held up the paper-concealed bandana. “You wrote my name.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah, you did, and I’m so proud of you I could squeeze the bloody life out of you.”

“You’re drunk.” Dex glanced at the open back door, but there was little need. Most of the staff had gone home, and all evening, Rick and Bernie had seemed to know there was something between him and Seb.

“Can I open it?”

Dex shrugged. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”

“Touché.” Seb unfolded the bag and peeked inside. “Oh wow. Is this what I think it is?”

“Maybe.” Dex watched, nervous as Seb shook out the bandana and held it up to the soft orange haze of the streetlight illuminating the bin yard. He’d never bought a present before. What if Seb hated it?

Seb moved, his large frame a blur of shadows. He put his hands on Dex and tilted his face until their eyes met. “I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Dex’s response was cut off by a kiss, a lighter kiss than he’d grown used to of late, but his head swam nonetheless.

Seb broke away with a grin. “Funny how that worked out, eh? Do you really like that hat? I didn’t know what to get you. You’re an awkward little sod.”

“You bought my present?”

“Yeah. I think Bernie engineered it that way, but I’m not complaining. I know you wouldn’t let me buy you anything otherwise.”

Dex rolled his eyes. “I don’t need you to buy me things. I can buy my own.”

“So why don’t you? You need a coat, and something to sleep in.”

Dex tilted his head, enjoying the sensation of Seb nuzzling his neck. “What’s wrong with my coat?”

“It’s too thin. Like you.”

“How’dya know I’m too thin? Maybe God made me this way.”

Seb smirked, and pursed his lips like he was trying to contain himself.

“What?” Dex scowled and squirmed in his arms. “Say it.”

Seb shrugged. “I’ve seen your dick, Dex. You’ll have to eat a lot more cake to grow into
that
.”

Dex should’ve been annoyed, but he wasn’t. He turned in Seb’s arms and reached up to kiss him, hard, until he pulled away and said, “I can buy my own stuff.”

“Do it, then.” Seb kissed him again, once, twice, and once more. “Monday. Let’s go shopping.”

Twenty

D
EX
WOKE
first. It was Monday morning, New Year’s Eve, and the first of two whole days he and Seb had to themselves. Rick had relatives descending from the north, and he’d shut the restaurant to host a rowdy family party. Dex rolled over with a wry grin. He’d seen Bernie’s sisters arriving on a minibus from Liverpool. That party was going to be
loud
.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, oddly alert given the hour he’d crawled into bed the night before, and especially considering the amount of time he’d spent exploring Seb’s naked body before they’d gone to sleep. He peeked under the duvet. Yep. Seb was still naked.
Happy days.

Shame Dex’s bladder wasn’t man enough to let him appreciate the sight for long. He slipped from the bed, pulled on some clothes, and slid down the swirly metal banister like a kid in a play park. He relieved himself, and washed up before padding barefoot into Seb’s kitchen. Waking up before Seb was a rare thing, and he’d never made him breakfast before. In fact, he’d never seen anyone cook for Seb.

He considered the contents of Seb’s fridge. Beer, milk, eggs, and, bizarrely, raspberries. Pancakes—the thick ones with fruit and syrup. He could make those, right? He knew Seb well enough to know his cupboards were well stocked with a gazillion varieties of flour and sugar.

It didn’t take long. A cup of flour, the same of milk, and an egg. The raspberries crushed with a teaspoon of golden sugar. Drenched in syrup from the squeezy bottle, the whole dish looked pretty good. Dex set it aside and quickly cleaned the kitchen, washed the pans in the sink, and loaded the dishwasher. Then, armed with a cup of tea, he took his loot back to bed.

He found Seb still asleep, sprawled on his back with his arm flung over his head. He’d kicked the covers away, and his torso was bare right down to the duvet bunched at his waist. The scene stopped Dex in his tracks. Seb was amazing to look at when he was awake—animated and beautiful… passionate—but asleep? Dex couldn’t look away.

He set the plate on the bedside table and crawled back into bed, casting his gaze down Seb’s body. He took in his solid chest and rippled abdomen. Closer inspection revealed the small scar on his belly from a burst appendix a few years back… a tiny blemish that, when traced with Dex’s tongue, made Seb curl his toes and shiver all over.

“What are you staring at?”

Dex started.

Seb chuckled and squeezed his leg, his eyes bright and laughing. “You’re dressed. Did I sleep through my alarm?”

“You don’t need your alarm today, remember? And I got up early… earlier than you, at least.”

Seb rolled over and put his head in Dex’s lap. “That’s not like you. Couldn’t sleep?”

“No, I was just awake.” Dex pushed his fingers into Seb’s silky hair, enjoying the sensation of Seb leaning on him. “I made you breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” Seb cracked an eye open. “I’ve been trying to get you in my kitchen for weeks. What changed your mind?”

You’ve had me in your kitchen….
Dex ducked his head, his cheeks heating up as an image of that bloody summer flashed into his mind again. Fuck. Would it ever stop? “Thought you might be hungry after last night. We forgot to eat dinner.”

“What did you make?”

“Pancakes. Like the banana ones you made last week, but, um, without the bananas.” Dex handed Seb the plate and chewed on his lip. Seb inspected his cooking all the time at work, but this felt different… like the world would end if Seb didn’t like it.

Seb took a bite of his breakfast. “Wow. These are great. I’ve got a recipe for sticky toffee pancakes with dates and caramel sauce. Not for breakfast, though. After dinner with ice cream. We can make them tomorrow, if you want.”

Relieved, Dex rolled his eyes. Seb and his damn cooking. The man seemed to think of little else.

Dex burrowed back into the bed and curled into Seb’s side while he inhaled his breakfast. Awake he may have been, but being in bed with Seb—with
naked
Seb—was the best thing ever.

“Are you still up for shopping today?”

Dex groaned. “I thought you were joking about that.”

“Nope.” Seb wiped his mouth and set his empty plate aside. “It’s Kelly’s birthday next week, and I want to buy some books in the sales. I was going to go to Oxford Street, but you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“Want” was a very strong word, but Dex didn’t fancy spending the day alone. He arched his back, stretched, and tried his best to look enthusiastic. “I’ll come.”

“You look like a snake when you do that.” Seb smiled and kissed Dex’s T-shirt-covered chest. “Come on. Let’s go.”

O
XFORD
S
TREET
.
Dex stared at the sign,
reading
the words and letting them sink into his brain. He’d been here before. To the left was a shop doorway where he’d laid his head, and somewhere below his feet was the Underground station where he’d turned his first trick without Braden’s guiding iron fist.

Oblivious, Seb tugged on his elbow. “This way. I need to go to Monsoon for Kelly’s present, then I want to go to the big H&M. You’ll like the stuff in there. It’s cheap and cool.”

Yeah, ’cause that’s me.
“You don’t have to pull me everywhere.”

Seb protested with a roll of his eyes and yanked on Dex’s hand until he fell into step beside him.

The streets were as crowded and terrifying as Dex remembered them. He kept his head down as he walked along, catching the eye of the occasional vagrant begging at the side of the road. Most of them didn’t connect—too far gone from whatever had driven them to live on the streets—but from time to time, the hollow stare of one would linger, would penetrate his soul and remind him his place by Seb’s side wasn’t really his place at all.
“… dirty whore….”

“What are you buying Kelly?”

“A handbag or something.” Seb pulled a crumpled magazine page from his pocket. “Think she figures being gay means I give a shit.” He stopped outside a shop. “This is the place. Are you coming in?”

Dex wanted to refuse. The shop was high class, refined, and teeming with women—all things that terrified him—but Seb was holding his hand, and he didn’t want to let go.

He stuck close to Seb as they wove their way to the back of the shop. Seb was taller than him, heavier and wider, and it was easy to take shelter behind his broad back. If he didn’t look up, he could forget where he was.

Until Seb came to an abrupt halt and thrust the magazine page in his face. “Which one is it? They all look the same to me.”

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t know. Let me look.” Dex studied the page and compared it to the racks of weird-looking bags in front of him. Seb was right: they all looked the same, but he kept searching, and eventually his gaze fell on a bag that looked at least similar to the one on the page. “That one?”

“Good enough for me.” Seb grabbed the bag without looking at the price, though his eyes did widen slightly when the girl by the till held out her hand. He paid with a card—a concept that boggled Dex’s mind—and then all but dragged Dex out of the shop. “Let’s get some lunch. I’m starving.”

“Already? You just ate.”

“Bite me.”

Later
. And so it went on. Seb bought hot doughnuts from a cart by a bus stop, and they ate them between torturous ordeals in big, horrible shops. Dex didn’t want to spend the money in his pocket, but Seb was persuasive. The argument “if you don’t buy it, I’ll buy it for you” worked for a while, and before Dex knew it, he’d spent fifty quid on new clothes: a coat, some jeans, and some soft trousers to sleep in.

He reached his limit outside the umpteenth shop and dug his feet into the pavement. “No more.”

Seb smiled, like he’d expected the mutiny sooner. “No more shopping? Or you want to go home?”

Dex considered his answer. Seb’s warm flat was heaven on earth, but walking through London hand in hand felt wonderful, and he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet. “No more shopping.”

Seb chuckled, the sound deep and mellow and beautifully resonant. “Okay. You gave me less trouble than I expected, so I’ll let you off. Have you ever seen Big Ben?”

“Who’s that?”

“It’s not a person, Dex. It’s a landmark. A clock, to be exact. It’s by the London Eye. Have you ever seen that?”

“Nope.”

Seb hustled him back to the Underground, and ten minutes later, they emerged aboveground at Westminster Tube Station. The clock tower was easy to spot, and, after Seb had positioned them, so was the giant Ferris wheel behind it. The wheel reminded Dex of the summers he’d spent working on fairgrounds before Braden had pulled him into hooking full time. As a child, he’d loved the bright colors of the rides, stalls, and circus tents, but as he’d gotten older, the murky underworld of gypsy life had marred any happy memories he might’ve had.

“My dad proposed to my mum right over there, way back in ’79.”

Dex followed Seb’s gaze across the street, bustling and brightly lit, ready for the New Year celebrations. “Where?”

“By that bench. It was the first time my mum had ever left Cornwall. By the time they got back, she couldn’t wait to do it all over again.”

“Is that why your parents live in Spain?”

Seb shifted to stand behind him, encircling him in his strong arms. “Probably. Think they got fed up with the gray English summers. It’s a bit of a piss take when the beach is right there all the time, you know?”

Not really, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the sensation of Seb pressed against him, and the light, sweet kiss that stayed with him long after it was over.

D
EX
’
S
BACK
hit the thick gray door with a dull thud. Then Seb was on him, kissing his lips, his jaw, his neck, and tugging his hair to grant him better access.

Dex tilted his head, eyes rolling as the scruff on Seb’s face scraped his sensitive skin. They’d been inside Seb’s flat only moments before the simmering current between them exploded, and he was already lost. He clutched at Seb’s clothes, wanting them gone but lacking the coherency to voice it or remove them himself.