Page 108 of In at the Deep End

Owen removed the condom and tied a knot in it, depositing it on the bedside table. “I’ve already found a clinic where I’ll go to get tested. It’s on the high street in Winchester.” He smiled. “Want me to book you in for an appointment too?” He knew he was changing the subject, but there was some topics he didn’t want to revisit.

“How long do results take to come through?”

Owen laughed. “Oh wow. You really are eager, aren’t you?”

Matt gaped at him. “Hey, this is all your fault.”

“How do you work that out?”

He grinned. “You’re good at this. So naturally, I want more.” He paused. “That’s assuming you do, too.”

A moment later, Owen had his arms around Matt, kissing him, stroking his hair.

“You bet I do.” He gave Matt’s arse a gentle squeeze. “Everything okay?”

“Apart from the fact that it feels as if you’re still in there? Sure.”

Owen laughed. “You took it like a champion. Next time will be easier.”

Matt kissed the tip of his nose. “Next time, I want something else.” Owen arched his eyebrows, and Matt smiled. “You know… making me come just with your tongue.”

Owen let out a breath.

“I was right. You’re going to be trouble.” He cocked his head again. “And that’s my phone. Apparently, real life wants us.”

Matt climbed off him, and Owen got off the bed. They went downstairs and into the lounge. Owen located his phone first. He peered at the screen, frowning.

“It’s your dad.”

Matt pulled his phone from the pocket of his shorts. “He’s calling me as well.” He accepted the call. “Hi, Dad.”

Silence. Then Matt’s smile vanished, and Owen’s heart sank.

“What?” Matt closed his eyes. “Okay.” Another silence. “We’ll be right there.” He lowered the phone slowly, then swallowed.

“Granddad died.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Matt got dressed in a fog.

He’s finally gone.

It was one thing knowing Granddad was dying. It was another knowing he’d never hear his laugh again, never find him in the greenhouse muttering to tomato plants, never watch him disappear into the garden with a mug of tea and a trowel as though the rest of the world could wait.

The finality of it all stole his breath away.

Behind him, Owen pulled on his shorts and T-shirt. “I’m coming with you.”

Matt glanced over his shoulder. “You don’t have to.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Dad’s still at the hospice. He told me to go and be with Mum.”

Owen stepped into his trainers. “Then I’ll make tea. Coffee. Answer the door if people start calling.” He met Matt’s gaze. “Whatever needs doing.”

Matt’s chest tightened. “You really don’t have to.”

Owen walked over and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I know.”

Not I should.