CHAPTER TWO
IT FELTlike the middle of the night when Ben came to wake him up. Patrick thought he’d set the alarm on his phone, but obviously not.
“Here you go.” Ben placed a mug of tea on the coffee table next to the sofa and then added a plate with a slice of toast on it.
“Thanks,” Patrick managed to croak out. He smiled at the toast, stupidly happy that Ben had remembered. Patrick could never drink tea first thing without something to eat too.
He reached for his phone as he took a sip of tea. They had about twenty minutes
sofa. All he needed to do was pull on his jeans and a hoodie, and that would take all of two minutes.
Ben flopped down onto the chair after he’d wheeled his suitcase into the hall. “Almost ready?”
“Yeah.” Patrick ate the last piece of his toast and washed it down with the remains of his tea. “Got everything?”
“Think so.” Ben held up his passport, tickets, and wallet.
Patrick stood and brushed the crumbs off himself, then quickly got dressed. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter and shoved his phone into his back pocket. “Let’s go, then.”
BY THEtime Patrick got back from the airport, it was almost five thirty, and he felt far too awake to go back to bed, even if it’d catch up with him later. He let himself into the flat, trying to be as quiet as possible, pretty sure Will didn’t want to be woken up this early.
As Patrick entered the kitchen, Cleo meowed loudly, pawing at his legs and managing to get a claw stuck in his jeans.
“Ow, Cleo.”
She just looked at him with disdain as he tugged her claws free, and then she walked over to sit by her empty bowl.
“Fine, point made.” He grumbled and searched through the cupboards for some cat food.
It felt like a weird time to be up, too early to get ready for the day, but not early enough to go back to bed, and Patrick couldn’t decide if he was hungry or not. The toast he’d eaten earlier seemed to be enough for now, so he bundled up his quilt and got comfy on the sofa, then turned on the TV low.
He watched some early morning breakfast show, letting the hushed voices wash over him as he relaxed enough to doze a little. He still had his eyes shut when the sound of a door opening behind him caught his attention.
“Morning.”
Patrick opened his eyes and tilted his head to the side in time to see Will strolling into the kitchen. He had a terrible case of bed hair—flat on one side, stuck up on the other, but he seemed to have lost his pyjama bottoms at some point, so Patrick couldn’t focus enough to take the piss. He blinked, wondering if he could possibly be dreaming, but no, the view remained the same—firm-looking thighs covered with a smattering of dark hair and tight black boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination. Thank God Will still had his T-shirt on.
“Morning.” Patrick figured he could blame the hitch in his voice on the early hour. “You’re up sooner than I expected.” He reached for his phone to check the time, surprised to see it was already six forty-five.
“I like to get in the office early so I can leave early.” Will yawned. He looked half-asleep still, all rumpled and warm-looking with pillow creases on his cheeks. Patrick briefly wondered what it would be like to wake up next to that, before shaking his head and quickly stomping on that train of thought.
“Coffee or tea?” Will asked, flicking on the kettle.
“Tea, please.” Patrick groaned and stretched, trying to shake off the woolly feeling from napping on the sofa. “What do you guys have in for breakfast?” He stood and made his way over to join Will in the kitchen, making sure to keep his gaze on Will’s face.
Will opened one of the cupboards next to Patrick, his forearm brushing Patrick’s shoulder, and Patrick couldn’t help but notice the fine dark hairs on Will’s arm and how big his hands were. Thank God he was too knackered for his body to respond inappropriately, although he had no doubt he’d be revisiting this later.
“We’ve got Weetabix, Shreddies, or Bran Flakes.”
“Ugh.” Patrick screwed up his nose. That’d be like eating cardboard. “Nothing else?” He could see a trip to McDonald’s looking more likely.
“There’s always toast.”
Again, Patrick thought. But he couldn’t actually be bothered to drive anywhere yet, so toast would have to do. His mum had given him food money for this week, “Just to get him started,” she’d said, so he’d make a trip to the supermarket later. He grabbed the bread and popped a couple of slices into the toaster.
Will leaned against the counter next to Patrick and crossed his arms while he waited for the kettle to boil. “Got any plans for today?” He smiled when Patrick turned to look at him, eyes brighter now he’d woken up a bit. Will had thick black lashes that framed his dark eyes and made him seem a little exotic, even though Patrick knew Will’s parents and grandparents were all from the South West.
Patrick swallowed, tearing his gaze away before Will noticed him staring. “I was thinking about getting some food in. Mum gave me some shopping money. And maybe having a look around.”
