“Wait. I—”
“No, it’s fine. I get it.” He gestured over his shoulder, all the while avoiding Will’s gaze. The pity in Will’s voice was more than enough. He didn’t need to see it on his face as well. “I’m gonna head back. Good luck with your new place.”
Patrick heard the muttered “thanks” as he turned and stalked away, but he refused to look back. He waited until he got round the corner before wiping at his face with the back of his hand.
That really hadn’t gone how he’d expected.
Yeah, he’d known Will hadn’t wanted anything serious, but that was before, and they were so fucking good together. It wasn’t like he’d asked Will to marry him or anything, and they might not have even made it ’til the end of the bloody summer, but Patrick just wanted the chance to try. And on the off chance that things had worked out, he only had one more fucking year at university. Warwick was only an hour and forty-five minutes away anyway, not the other end of the country.
It was so fucking frustrating. HeknewWill felt something for him, despite what he’d said at the end. Why was he being so bloody stubborn?
Patrick clenched his fists as he walked, so angry and hurt, thinking about Will’s last words over and over.
“I don’t want a relationship withyou.”
He’d been so bloody stupid to hope for more.
By the time he reached the flat, the anger had more or less faded, leaving Patrick feeling empty and a little lost. It had only been twelve days, for fuck’s sake. How did he feel this bad after such a short time?
Patrick kicked his shoes off in the hall and walked into Ben’s bedroom, then collapsed back onto the bed. Fuck, he’d made such a mess of everything. He lay there staring at the ceiling, wishing he had some of his friends down here, because the last thing he felt like doing was wallowing in self-pity and spending the night on his own.
He slid his phone out of his back pocket and sent Christian a text.
Having a really shitty day. Could use a drink. You free?
Meeting some friends at the pub later. Join us?
Patrick thought about it for all of two seconds.
Yeah okay. What time?
They arranged to meet at seven thirty, and Patrick felt marginally better knowing he wouldn’t be alone that evening. But he had a huge ache in his chest. He searched through his recent caller list, thumb hovering over the number. If anyone would understand and let him rant without calling him a dick, it was Sean.
Patrick hit call and grabbed a pillow, settling back on the bed while he waited for Sean to answer.
“Hey, what’s up?” Sean’s familiar voice sounded happy and relaxed in his ear, and Patrick closed his eyes, letting it wash over him.
“I fucked up.”
“Shit.” Sean paused, and Patrick heard muffled voices and a door being closed. “Okay. Tell me what happened.”
They spent the next hour on the phone. Patrick explained the clusterfuck of his relationship with Will, while Sean listened and occasionally took the piss to break the tension every time Patrick got too depressed. It wasn’t as good as having him there in the room, but it was enough.
By the time they ended the call, Patrick still felt awful, but not as bad as when he’d walked away from Will. He had five hours to kill before meeting Christian and his mates, so Patrick kicked off his jeans and crawled under the quilt. He didn’t want to think about anything for a while, and sleeping the afternoon away sounded like the perfect way to do it.
It took surprisingly little time for him to fall asleep.
