Page 125 of Read My Lips

“I’ll have two?”

I crossed the distance in a heartbeat, launching into his arms.

Simon drew me close as I rumpled up his jacket reaching underneath to the warmth of his body. I kissed him hard, my hand firm on the nape of his neck, drawing him in, and he met me right where I was.

Simon Azie had always been mine to reach out and grab for. Fact.

A sharp, sickening whistle cut between us. I flinched back, but Simon caught my wrist to stop me going anywhere, already clicking his hearing aids off. Laughter hit along with the chalkboard scrape of our teeth clashing. When I glanced over his shoulder, up towards the house, there was no one apart from the birds watching.

Our fingers knitted, and we stood holding hands in his front garden, next to the bin cupboard, smiling like it was the most romantic place in the world. It felt like it.

“I love you,” Simon said again. And I knew I would never get tired of watching the shape of those words in his ragged, blurry voice. Fact.

My thumb scuffed over his knuckles. “That’s convenient. Because I’m pretty sure I love you.”

Simon smiled like the sun had reappeared after six months of gloom, and I realised I really, really meant it. There was nothing but calm in the warmth of his eyes.

“So, what happens now then?” I asked.

“That, Ben Cooper, is entirely up to you.”

EPILOGUE

THREE SATURDAYS LATER

The short double-bip of a horn announced Sev and Jo pulling up outside. It hadn’t taken as much convincing as I’d expected to talk Matt into letting the outdoor table in the living room go to them. We’d already disassembled it, ready for a new life in their garden. Simon was hoping it’d mean they weren’t around at his place any time the sun was out, because he rather liked it just being us sometimes. And I was getting used to that too.

I scrabbled past the stacked pieces clogging the hall to let them in. And froze in the doorway.

Strapped to the roof of Sev’s car was a two-seater sofa lying on its back.

“Erm.. Sev? I don’t reckon you’re going to fit the table on there with that strapped to the top.”

“Oh no,” she said. “I must have forgotten how to use a measuring tape.” Sev whacked my upper arm. “It’s for you. Idiot.”

Simon uncrumpled himself from the back seat. “It’s Richard and Temp’s. From their third living room.”

“...What?” He wasn’t even supposed to be here yet. The three of them must have driven all the way to Heybourne and back this morning. “Why?”

Jo hugged me. “Happy housewarming!”

“But… we’ve lived here ages?”

Simon crinkled his nose, signing to me. “Lived is debatable.”

Behind me, Matt laughed. “Alright Waistcoat?” he signed, raising a hello wave, leaving Simon frowning down at his own chest.

“I’m not wearing a— Oh.” Matt had given him a sign name. Simon’s smile glowed. “Thank you.”

Matt shrugged. “Got to call you something. Come on Big Ben, let’s get this inside. Short Stuff here sent me the dimensions last week. It’ll go perfect on the other side of the new coffee table.”

“You all planned this?” I spluttered, signing and speaking at the same time. A month ago Ben Cooper made do and kept quiet and didn’t get what he wanted. And no one cared, because no one knew. But I’d started speaking up after everything with Simon, and the roots of my whole reality were bedding in for change.

Jo patted my cheek, brushing past me on the way inside. “We’re bringing you things because we like you. Accept them.”

Between the five of us, we got the sofa into the living room, opposite our Catford freecycle find, without anyone getting crushed. Matt and Sev lashed all the parts of the table to the roof of the car with a bungee net and flat straps, in a systematic and highly complicated array of knotwork. Jo rolled her eyes at the pair of them.

“Matt’s helping us unload at the other end. So the table settles into its new home without any feelings of abandonment.”