“Okay.”
“Where’s good?”
“I don’t go out drinking. I meet my friends sometimes but usually in Borough or Shad Thames.”
Ripley fiddled with his phone. “Baddies Bar?”
“Sounds enticing.”
9
Fen’s heart was getting a work-out for all sorts of reasons. When he’d been talking to the Japanese guy, Ripley had been jealous. Fen wasn’t sure he understood quite why Ripley liked him enough to feel jealous, plus he knew he shouldn’t be pleased about it but he was. Even that modelling scout had given him a boost of confidence, though no way was he interested in being a model. And now Ripley was here in Peckham with him and they were going for a drink and everything seemed possible again.
Baddies was down a side street. Fen had never even noticed it before. He hoped there was somewhere to sit because his hip was aching.
“What would you like to drink?” Ripley asked.
“Lime and diet lemonade, please. Yes, to ice. No, to a slice of lemon. Heavy on the lime.”
“Want a monkey swizzle stick?”
“If you come back with one of those, I’ll…do something nice.”
“Find somewhere for us to sit. I could be a while. I might have to go shopping.”
Fen spotted a space at the end of a long banquette, took off his coat and sat down. For a day that had started off badly and could have been horrible when he caught sight of his father at the exhibition, it was ending really well. Ripley had come to the Tate, they’d talked, and Fen accepted Ripley hadn’t dumped him because of his BMD.
Though he’d had a niggle of worry about Ripley wanting to see him home. Did he expect Fen to invite him into his bed? Maybe, but that was kind of flattering too, wasn’t it?Unless it’s a one-night-stand, idiot. You’re better than that. You deserve more than that.
Fen heard the warnings in his head, except… was he averse to a one-night-stand? It had been a long while since he’d been with anyone. Apart from his mother’s hugs, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched with kindness. Though he didn’t know if Ripley was the type to be kind or not. If he reacted the wrong way to Fen’s room, then at least Fen would know one way or the other if this could go anywhere.
They had very little in common. Fen was much younger than him. Ripley was well off, Fen was poor. Ripley was strong, Fen was weak. Fen wasn’t an ideal boyfriend for anyone. But Ripley hadn’t backed off once he’d known about the muscular dystrophy. He’d looked it up. And now here he was walking towards him with a beer, a lime and lemonade and one of those little parasols resting on the side of the glass. Ripley put down the drinks, took off his coat, and sat next to him.
“Cheers.” Fen touched his glass to Ripley’s. “Thank you. Did you ask for a monkey swizzle stick?”
“I thought I was going to get beaten up. The parasol was the best I could doandI had to pay for it becauseyou don’t get them in lime and lemonade, mate.”
Fen laughed.
“I’m disappointed I don’t get the something nice you promised.”
“You still might.”
Ripley’s eyes darkened. “Sure you don’t want something to eat? They do food.”
“No thank you. The nibbles at the Tate were enough. Have you been to Peckham before?”
“Probably, but I don’t remember.”
“Do you live in a flat or a house?” Fen asked.
“A house.”
“Do you have a garden?”
“A little one.”
“It’s something I miss about living in a flat, lack of outdoor space. Well, I saymiss,but I’ve never lived anywhere with a garden.”
