His eyes are steady, with no judgement and zero drama. I appreciate that more than he will ever know. “Why?”
“I don’t know.”
He strokes my cheekbone with his fingertips, tracing the thin skin and dipping into a scar made by some shrapnel years ago. “Maybe you should try taking a picture of something beautiful for once, then.”
“That’s not always possible in the areas I visit.”
He lowers his head onto my chest, and my arms band around him, holding him tight. I feel rather than hear his sigh, and then he says quietly, “Then maybe you should visit some other areas and find your beauty, eh, Reuben?”
I take a breath. “While we’re on the subject of advice, I need to say something.”
He snorts. “When don’t you?”
I smile. “It might be good to try to get to know Jez. I know why you don’t particularly want to at the moment,” I add quickly. “But this is almost a place out of time for you and him. As soon as the funeral is done, we’ll be going back to Afghanistan.”
His body stiffens, and I slide my hand comfortingly up and down his back. The skin is like silk, and I can feel the softness of his genitals against my legs and the gentle puffs of his breath against my throat.
“I cannot guarantee that we’ll come back.” I tighten my grip as he looks up at me. In the moonlight filtering through the curtains, his eyes are huge and glossy like opals, and I cup his face in my palm. “I canneverguarantee that,” I whisper. “This isn’t something I’m using to persuade you, yes?” He nods reluctantly. “It is just a simple fact. This could be your chance to know him and have him answer any questions you might have. You don’t have to call him papa and talk about your childhood, but if you eventually decide you don’t want to open the door to a future relationship with him, then you can properly close it and go on with your life. There isnothingworse than regrets,” I finish, and there’s a world of hard-won truth in my voice.
He traces one finger across my collarbone, his face focused on the movement of his hand. Then he looks up. “You want me to do that?”
I nod. “I’d like to know that you’ll leave here without any questions he could have answered for you. It would be even nicer if you end up actually liking each other. Not love,” I clarify. “Maybe just liking. Life is too short for regrets with your parents.”
He eyes me solemnly and then inclines his head rather regally. “I will do that for you.”
“It mustn’t be for me. You should do that for yourself.”
He shrugs and doesn’t reply. Instead, he lowers himself onto me, his body hot. “I wish we had more time,” he whispers. “We only have another day.”
I can’t stop the way my arms tighten around him. I’d forgotten that. How utterly ridiculous and completely unlike me. Tomorrow we will go our separate ways. When I first met him in the bar, I’d seen him as a one-shot deal. A way to ease some stress in my body and then move on to the purpose of the weekend. He’s nowbecomethe purpose, and I can’t see him as that casual fuck, no matter how hard I keep trying to fit him back into that box.
He’s a person whom I really like. I like his courage, his resilience, his quick brain, and his even quicker tongue. I like the way he makes me feel alive and not as if I’m entombed in a prison that I made for myself years ago. In a strange way, it feels like I already knew him when I met him. I think of that strange feeling of recognition when I met him.
“If you could stay longer, would you?” I ask.
He hums and kisses my neck, burrowing his head there and inhaling deeply. “Yes,” he says simply, and the truth is clear in his voice. He wriggles a bit. By now, I’m understanding that he’s a bit of a fidget. “Thanks for the sex, Roo.”
“Oh my god,no.”
“Say it. I know you want to.” He pinches me until I jerk. “Go on.”
I give a deep sigh that probably doesn’t conceal my amusement. “You’re welcome, Xavi.”
He chuckles and after a minute his body relaxes and slackens against me so that I feel the moment he passes into sleep. I should be waking him, getting him dressed, and sending him off with a lecture. Then I should pack and run away as fast as my fucking legs will carry me.
Instead, I tighten my grip on him and stare into the moonlit shadows of the room.
chapter 10
. . .
Reuben
When I get to the breakfast room the next morning, Jez is waiting. He’s sitting at the table, reading a newspaper and looking relaxed. I wish I was in the same state. I’m still reeling at what Xavier let slip about Jez last night.
I pause by a nearby pillar and look properly at my friend instead of just superimposing the face of the boy I knew and loved so much over the face of the man he’s become. And now I can see the signs of dissipation—the slightly swollen face, the red tinge to his skin. Both show he’s drinking heavily again. Maybe he isn’t as unscathed by our job as I first thought. The realisation should make me gentle, but I’m too angry at his behaviour.
He glances up. “You’re late,” he says.
