“I’m not.” Ed pulled away to face him, gaze darting to his closed bedroom door, then back to Oliver. “Did you get her back?”
“Yes,” Oliver mumbled, trying not to grin. “But that’s not the point. She shot me first.”
He let Ed lead him into the kitchen and gingerly perched on one of the stools. “Whatever you’re cooking smells delicious.”
“Chicken, bacon, and leek bake.”
“Ooh, my favourite.” Oliver’s mouth watered at the thought. “What have I done to deserve that?” Ed glanced towards the bedrooms again, ear cocked as though he was listening for something. Oliver’s brows drew together. “What’s going on?”
Ed visibly swallowed, and Oliver tensed.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” He reached for the bottle of red on the worktop and poured them a glass each.
“The same something you had to do today?”
“It’s connected. Sort of.”
Oliver bit his lip, heart rate picking up. “Go on then.” He had an idea of where Ed might be going with this, he’d hoped...
“You know how you asked me to help you find a flat?”
Oliver took a sip of wine to steady his nerves. “Yeah.”
“Well...” Ed fiddled with the stem of his glass, uncharacteristically nervous. “Instead of looking for somewhere that could potentially be miles away and not necessarily as big as you’re used to, maybe somewhere closer would be better. Somewhere with a nice garden, where you can easily check on Betty—” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck’s sake, I’m rambling.” He met Oliver’s eyes, far too nervous for what Oliver hoped he was trying to ask.
“Ed?” He smiled and reached for his hand, not surprised when Ed gripped his tightly. “Are you asking me to move in here with you?”
“Yes.” Glancing towards the bedrooms again, Ed then stood, still holding Oliver’s hand. “But I need to check that you’re okay with the other guy who’s staying here.”
What?
“Er...” That, Oliver hadn’t been expecting. Smile faltering, he stood to match Ed. “What do you mean, the other guy?” This was not the sort of arrangement he’d been hoping for.
“Come see.” Ed tugged him back out of the kitchen.
Confused but curious, Oliver followed him to Ed’s closed bedroom door. Which was odd in itself, because Ed never closed his door.
“I just hope the two of you can get along because he was here first.”
Before Oliver could reply, Ed opened the door and a loud meow greeted them.
There, stretched out on the middle of Ed’s bed, looking like he owned the place, was Monty. In all his big-pawed, black-furred glory.
Oliver’s breath caught. “Oh my God!” He turned to face Ed. “When?” He’d only mentioned him yesterday. Things didn’t move that quickly.
“Come say hello, first.” Ed walked over to the bed and sat down, so Oliver did the same.
He stroked under Monty’s chin, laughing when loud purrs filled the room. “Talk,” he said, looking over at Ed.
“I’d already been looking into getting a cat. Mentioned to them I’d like one similar to Monty if possible.”
“Why didn’t you say? I could’ve helped you choose.”
Ed glanced at Monty, smiling. “I had every intention of telling you, but then they phoned to say Monty had been brought back in and was I interested.” He stroked Monty’s head, and the purrs got louder as Monty basked in all the attention. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Oliver huffed out a laugh. “You certainly did that.”
“In a good way?” Ed’s eyes held a flicker of uncertainty, and Oliver couldn’t have that.
