He bursts into laughter and pats Jez’s arm. “Yeah, no. She was taking the piss. I think I might be the furthest you could ever get from shy.”
He turns to me, his back to Jez, and smiles at me. His eyes travel up and down my body, and then he licks his lips. “Reuben, good morning,” he says huskily.
“Morning,” I say in a repressive tone, which has the wonderful effect of making him look like he’s going to laugh. I shoot him a quick glare and then smile at Jez. “So, are we ready? Got everything?” My lip twitches. “Xavier, do you need to pop back to your room to get the rest of your jeans?”
He snorts, his eyes twinkling, and I find myself helplessly echoing his smile. Jez directs a curious glance at me and I shut down my expression.
“There’s been a change of plans for today,” Jez tells Xavier.
“Yeah?” Xavier says. “Why?”
“Because I’m an idiot, and you’re not two.”
Xavier’s laugh is warm and appreciative, and Jez’s eyes light up.
Jez has always preferred easy approval to any questions. There are only a couple of people in his life—and I’m one of them—from whom he tolerates pushback. I’m his partner and he needs me. If Xavier can be patient and continue to find things in Jez to admire—and Jez doesn’t behave like a complete twat—theymighthave a chance of getting on.
“Reuben’s found something better for us to do,” Jez explains. “Something you might like.”
Xavier turns to me, eyes shiny and wide. “Really?”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “Yeah. I think you’ll like it.”
“Okay, let’s move, people.” Jez claps his hands. “The Uber’s here.”
We climb out of the cab, and Xavier pauses, looking up at the old building that was a town hall and is now a prestigious gallery. A brightly coloured banner is strung across the exterior.
“Past America. A Comic Book Retrospective,” he reads. He turns to me, his face full of excitement. “Oh my god,really?”
I relax and can’t help but smile. “Yep. You approve?”
“Absolutely.” He’s lost the bored ennui he seems to adopt as a shield.
“I’ll just go and get the tickets,” Jez says and strides over to the booth.
“So, this is your idea for me?” Xavier says softly.
I nod awkwardly. “I saw a review of it inThe Guardian, and I thought you’d be into it.”
He edges close enough that I can smell his shampoo and cologne. It’s spicy and warm—amber and a trace of vanilla. “So Jez?—”
“Your dad.”
He rolls his eyes. “Jez,” he repeats firmly, “who has never taken the time to get to know me in my nineteen years of life, thought the zoo was a good idea.” There’s something on his face that makes my blood pound. It’s fascination and something else. Maybe gratitude. “And you, after knowing me for twenty-four hours, take me to an exhibit I’ve been dying to see but couldn’t afford the tickets for,” he finishes softly.
I clear my throat and run my hand through my hair. “Jez pulled some favours to get the tickets,” I lie. “I’m just relieved you like the idea. Sea lions might have been a better bet.”
“Well, I must say I’m sorry for them, because they’ll be going hungry without us feeding them.”
“Just go easy on Jez.” I keep my voice low. “It’s all as new to him as it is to you.”
He shoots me a very strange look, and then Jez waves at us from the booth, tickets in hand. I go to move past Xavier, but stop as he grabs my hand. His grip is firm and hidden by our bodies. “Why were you relieved, Reuben?”
“Sorry?”
“Why were you relieved that I was happy about this? You don’t know me, so why were you bothered?”
I look nervously at Jez, who’s stopped to check his phone. “You’re Jez’s son.”
