CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Aiden
I was emotionally,physically, and mentally exhausted and it felt like we’d barely scratched the surface on things that needed to be done. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to curl up in bed under a mountain of blankets and hope the problem went away on its own.
But that wasn’t going to happen, and pretending everything was fine was only going to smack me around the head later down the line.
I’d spent half the morning on the phone to the insurance, cursing under my breath every time they put me on hold. To my surprise, they’d been more helpful than I’d anticipated and promised to send someone out within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours to review everything. Until then, I had to catalogue every single thing in the kitchen and whether it was useable with a deep clean, was damaged and in need of repair, or had to be destroyed.
So, we’d pulled on some disposable blue booties over our shoes, grabbed some disposable blue gloves, and gotten to work.
Building security had said we could have a couple of hours to review our units, but then we had to get out so their own insurance could do a damage report and the building could be surveyed to see when it would be useable again. The whole floor would need drying out and probably have to be stripped right back, dried out, replastered, and painted before we’d be allowed back in. And that could take weeks.
That wasn’t even thinking about the electrics, plumbing, flooring, and any of that shit.
I’d probably still be expected to pay rent too, because fuck me I suppose.
Every time I tried to wrap my head around all the ins and outs and all the complexities of what could or should or might happen next, I felt pain flare behind my eyes and anxiety lodge in my chest.
There were too many variables, and I wasn’t the one making the decisions, which I fucking hated. The whole situation seemed designed to put me under the maximum amount of stress, then squeeze a little more out of me for good measure, like I was a juicy fucking lemon and not a man whose entire business was circling the drain.
“Why don’t you come back to mine tonight?” Jonny asked as he helped me count baking trays, inspecting them closely to see whether they’d be useable or not. My gut feeling was to bin everything in case of contamination, but I was going to check with someone like the Food Standards Agency as soon as I could. There was a chance a thorough clean and a trip through an industrial dishwasher would be enough. Either way I’d need a list of everything for the insurance.
“What?” I hadn’t really been listening, and I turned to look at him so I’d catch what he said when he repeated himself.
“Why don’t you come and stay at mine tonight? I don’t think you should be by yourself. Then if you want to make a plan, we can, but we can also just chill.”
“Jonny, I… It’s… I’ll be fine.” It was a sweet offer and I appreciated it, but I didn’t want to be a burden.
He raised his eyebrow, knowing me too well to take what I said at face value. “Will you? Or are you saying that because you think you’ve bothered me enough for one day?”
From the other side of the kitchen, Bacon whistled. “He’s got you there, Eggs.”
“Fuck off, Bacon.” There was no malice behind my words, and he laughed as he flipped me off.
“Fucking charming! I get up at five in the bloody morning, bring you Maccies, and trudge through this shithole, and that’s the thanks I get?”
“What do you want? A fucking blow job?”
“I mean, if you’re offering,” Bacon said with a grin and I almost doubled over as hysterical laughter ripped its way out of my lungs, a physical manifestation of my breaking point. “Jesus, mate. My dick isn’t that bad.”
“Sorry, I’m just…” I screamed breathlessly. “Fuck!”
“I know,” Jonny said, peeling off his gloves and rubbing gentle circles across my spine with a broad hand. It was something he’d done ever since we were kids, the warm familiarity of the gesture soothing me slightly. “It’s all shit.”
“So shit. I hate this.”
“I know. But it’s going to be okay, I promise. We’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, man, it’s gonna be all right,” Bacon added, a soft edge to his voice I very rarely heard. It caught me off guard because Bacon and softness weren’t usually two words you’d use in the same sentence.
“Come back to mine tonight,” Jonny said again, his hand still on my spine. “Please? I don’t think you should be alone and I want to help. Devon does too. You’re not bothering us, I promise.”
“Okay.” The word was muttered, more forced off my tongue than anything. An almost bitter acceptance. But it was an acceptance nonetheless.
“Good. Let’s get finished up here, then we’ll head back. I can drive us.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll bring my car. Just in case the insurance calls and I need to get down here while you’re at practice tomorrow.”
