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“Because he loves her,” Shiloh said, sounding oddly defensive and a touch bitter. “Because he wants to tell the bloody world how much she means to him. He can’t really do that, but he can tell all of Benld.”
Dom sighed and settled back down, pushing his fingers into Shiloh’s curls. That almost always calmed him, and this time was no different.
Shiloh let out a tiny sigh and pressed his cheek to Dom’s chest. “It sounded nice. Romantic.”
“Jealous?” Dom asked. It was a joke, but the way Shiloh stiffened, Dom realized he hadn’t taken it that way.
“It’s stupid, I know. I mean, it’s not like anyone wants to date me, even if I had the time.”
The confession danced on the edge of Dom’s tongue like it had done a thousand times before, and he forced it back. “You know what I’m going to say to that, don’t you?”
Shiloh let out a tiny grunt and nestled harder against Dom’s side. “Yes. Shut up and give us a cuddle, please. It was a long weekend.”
Dom was helpless to do anything but wrap his arms tight around the man he loved and pretend like his heart wasn’t resting fragile and aching between his teeth.
“So did anything interesting happen whilst I was away?” Shiloh asked, his voice thick and sleepy.
Dom carefully combed fingers through his hair as his gut twisted. He thought about Sarah and her demand that he bring a date to her party. That he stop pining and actually try to move on from the way he loved Shiloh. And it wasn’t new.
Dom had brought around more than a few dates over the years. They just…hadn’t lasted. And he’d long since accepted they never would. “Sarah bullied me into taking a date to the party.”
Shiloh sat up so fast, the side of his head cracked on Dom’s jaw. He winced, rubbing it with the side of his hand as he met Dom’s gaze. “Does that mean—”
“I’m still going with you,” Dom said quietly. He reached for Shiloh and eased him back down, not able to breathe without his friend in his arms. “She’s just meddling again.”
Shiloh made a soft, displeased noise under his breath. “You should stop letting her control you like that.”
“Yeah,” Dom said. He began to comb Shiloh’s hair again, feeling him relax and slip more toward sleep. “I really should.”
But he wouldn’t. Just like he couldn’t give his heart to someone else, he’d never let Sarah stop trying to love him in her own way.
Four
* * *
The one thing Dom loved best about his little bakery was that it was close enough to walk to the shops and then home no matter what the weather was like. Even in pissing rain, it only took ten minutes, and there were days he half thought the rain nourished him like it did all the plants on the hill at Shiloh’s farm.
In reality, though, he just hated driving. He’d attempted to get the hang of it once when everyone else was starting lessons.
But along with the fact that he could barely read or write well enough to pass the written exam, cars just felt too big and too reckless. After his third panic attack behind the wheel when Benjamin had offered him a few lessons, he gave up unless he absolutely had to, and told everyone his feet and the trains were all he ever needed.
Of course, it also led to days like that late Thursday afternoon when some shithead, probably from London, came careening round a corner, hitting a puddle at top speed, and soaking him through to the skin. The arsehole didn’t even look back at him as they headed out of Benld, and he stood there like a soaked cat—glowering ineffectively at the open, empty road.
He shook himself off, then trudged up his lane and managed to make it through his front door without any further incident. His house was quiet now that his parents were gone, leaving behind only echoing memories of a loud childhood and a lot of laughter. And it wasn’t like they were dead or lost, but standing there dripping wet and lonely, their absence felt particularly painful.
He was staring down the road toward forty now, and all he wanted was to curl up on the sofa under his nonnie’s quilt that smelt a bit like cloves and mint and eat whatever soup his mum had been working on. He wanted to watch crap telly and listen to his dad shout atMillionairecontestants for their wrong answers.
Digging his phone out of his pocket, he stripped down on his way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Grimacing at the trail of wet he’d left behind on the floorboards, he piled everything in the corner, then leaned against the edge of the sink and hit the first name on his favorites list.
“Are you ringing me from the toilet again?” Shiloh asked by way of greeting.
Dom rolled his eyes. “I just wanted to call and let you know that when I die of hypothermia, you can have my DVD collection.”
Shiloh scoffed. “Mate, no one watches DVDs now. I have, like, six streaming services—two of them anime only. I don’t even think I own anything that can play a DVD.”
“You’re too modern. The worst farmer in the world,” Dom said with a groan, smiling because Shiloh’s voice soothed that ache inside him, even if it couldn’t make it go away entirely. “You’re not supposed to have telly. You’re supposed to have, like, books. And candlelight.”
“Fuck off.” Shiloh was quiet a moment. “What happened? Why are you hypothermic?”
