Bracing a hand on the cool tiles in front of him, Oliver set a steady rhythm, the image in his head one from that morning. Ed—hair mussed, dressed in black, hip-hugging boxer briefs, and looking thoroughly dishevelled. Instead of a hangover making him look like that, Oliver fantasised it was a night in bed.
With him.
A sigh escaped him, each stroke of his hand tipping him closer to the edge.
Oliver slowed his movements, savouring the drag of his fingers along wet skin, drawing it out for one, two, three leisurely strokes, biting his lip to keep silent. Steam rose around him, filling the room, each short, shaky breath drawing in warm air. His pulse raced, hand tightening around his shaft as he chased his orgasm with purpose this time.
Body tensing, his balls drew up tight, come hitting the wall and immediately washed away by shower water.
Resting his head on his arm, Oliver took a moment to enjoy the afterglow and get his breath back.
Fuck, he’d needed that.
Aware of how long he’d been, he quickly washed his hair and rinsed off, limbs nicely loose and relaxed.
Thoughts of Ed lingered long after he’d turned off the shower and got dressed.
Oliver had a sinking feeling he’d just made things ten times worse for himself.
THE FOLLOWING Saturday morning, Oliver arrived home from the animal shelter to find Betty in the living room watching TV, one cat on her lap, another perched on the arm of the chair.
“Oh, there you are.” She glanced up, her brow furrowed. “Do you think you’ll be able to get me a Christmas tree soon?” She pointed out the window. “Only I saw June and David bringing theirs in this morning, and the house next door to them has already got its outside lights up. As has Barbara across the street. I’m feeling a bit drab without any festive decorations.”
Oliver scrunched his nose. By the time he got home from work in the week it was already dark, and he couldn’t nip out at lunch. Tomorrow was forecast to piss it down, and the last thing he wanted was to traipse about in the pouring rain looking for the perfect tree. “I’ll go get one now. Then you can trim it tomorrow.”
She clapped her hands together in delight, startling both cats. “Wonderful.” Nodding at Ed’s bungalow, she added, “Do you think Ed will bother with a tree or decorations? Elise used to have such a beautifully festive house at Christmas. I miss seeing all her garden lights.” She sighed, and Oliver walked back into the room.
He bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. “You miss her, huh?” With being out at work all week, he sometimes forgot how lonely Betty probably got without her friend next door.
“I do, but she’d had enough by the end. I don’t begrudge her that.” Her sad smile tugged at his heart.
Her expression turned suspicious, then she sighed. “Don’t you go looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” He hurried to school his features into a smile, wondering what expression he’d had to make her take that tone.
“I do miss Elise; she was a wonderful friend.” She took Oliver’s hand and squeezed it. “But she wasn’t my only friend. I don’t want you worrying that I’m cooped up in here all day long feeling sorry for myself with no one to talk to.”
“I don’t think—”
She cut him off with a raised eyebrow, reminding him of when she used to tell him off as a child. With a sheepish smile, he perched on the arm of her chair, earning a disapproving stare from the cat currently sat there. “Fine, I was thinking exactly that. Sorry.”
She patted his hand. “Don’t be sorry for caring enough to worry.” Smiling up at him, she met his gaze. “With Elise gone, I don’t have as much company as I used to, but I have enough.” She gestured to the rest of the cul-de-sac. “We don’t always see eye to eye.” Oliver snorted at that because she was very opinionated about her neighbours and their goings on. “But there’s a few of us here of a similar age, and we like a good gossip.” She sighed, her smile tinged with sadness. “Don’t feel like you have to spend your free time with me because you think I’m lonely. You’re young.” She grinned. “Go out and have some fun with your friends.”
“I do go out with them.” He’d met up with a couple of his best friends last night, like he did most Fridays.
Eyebrows raised, her gaze was far too shrewd for his liking. “Once a week? You call that going out?” She scoffed, and Oliver choked out a laugh, not sure whether to feel insulted or not. “And you’ve known those two for years. As much as I love the pair of them, you need to find some new friends, spice things up a bit. Hmm?”
Oh God, kill me now. Was she trying to tell him to go get— Nope. Not going there.
“Thanks. I’ll bear that in mind.” He straightened. “Do you want a cup of tea or anything before I go for the tree.”
Betty looked aghast. “I didn’t mean for you to go right this second. You’ve only just got in.”
“It’s fine. I said I’d help Ed decorate, so if I go now, I can give him a hand this afternoon.”
She perked up a bit, a twinkle in her eye. “Speaking of new friends...”
“Tea?” he repeated, ignoring her, much to her amusement.
