“You’re there. That’s all I care about.”
“Well.” His little giggles were the cutest thing. It was so him. A grown man, and I was calling him cute. I shook my head, but then I couldn’t help giggle too.
“What?” he said.
“Just… I mean.” Deep breath. “If I came up to see you sometime?”
“Anytime.”
“You live at the school.”
“Yes.”
“I…googled.”
“Of course you did.”
“There’s a local, down the road, The Kilmartin Hotel? They do rooms.”
“You want to stay at the hotel?”
“Well, it’s not appropriate for you to have…guests, I assume?”
“You assume a lot, Mr Fairweather.”
“Dr Fairweather, actually.” I smiled. I bet he did too.
“Book it. Let me know when you’re coming?”
“I’ll come as soon as I get you naked.”
“Noah.”
“Fox.”
I didn’t quite understand who I’d become. I never spoke like this. Ever. But with him? It was just so easy. A comfortable silliness that I hadn’t realised had been missing from my life. And suddenly I was excited. There was something in my future that again would disrupt all my little routines…but in a good way. I couldn’t wait. And it was almost an hour later, a conversation full of small chit-chat, that he hung up on me.
This was getting ridiculous, all this smiling. But fuck, I loved it.
Work became a mundane chore compared to coming home in the evening, rushing through dinner and laundry and everything else, hoping he’d ring early. My phone was now my constant companion.
A week later, I sent him a text in the middle of the day. An hour later? I had five back. He installed WhatsApp, and I could have cried seeing his face on my screen that evening. Our texting became constant; the screen on my phone that had always remained my blank comfort was now lighting up my life.
It was a childish joy, but a joy it was, and even my mother, her usual subdued, calm self, squealed when I finally admitted that yes, I was in contact with Fox, and absolutely yes, I was seeing him again.
I didn’t tell her when, though, because some things, I simply wanted to keep to myself. Less expectations and hoo-ha and no. I wasn’t scared. I was terrified of seeing him again, despite knowing full well that I was being silly just thinking that.
Maybe things would be fine, and I would be there and he would jump into my arms and things would be like we’d never left that hotel room onthe beach. But I suspected my anxiety would play up, and I would behave like a fool and things would be awkward.
I told him that in a rambling text at midnight when my head just wouldn’t shut down.
Just hug me,he replied, and I wasn’t proud of the tears that formed in my eyes. For heaven’s sake.
I still hadn’t booked that ticket. Not sorted that room. Neither of us had mentioned it, and the small fact that I was jerking off at night after he’d hung up on me? Oh gosh. I was far too old for all of this, and I had no idea what I was doing. Was I supposed to not…jerk off? Like? Fuck. I wanted to. All the time, and that was more problematic than the fact that I found myself scrolling, clicking on the goddamn link that my parents had so kindly provided.
Friday. I could fly up in the evening, and be at his…what? Around nine at night? Would… Yes. He usually rang late, he could definitely pop down…and I could…
I wanted to. Fuck, I wanted to. All of it.
