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I was exhausted by the time I crawled into bed, and I tried not to think about him, but it was hard when he’d left my sleep socks, freshly laundered and folded, under the duvet.
I reached out and touched the pillow.Mypillow that would forever be his pillow now. See? I was slowly going insane. I even sniffed it, devouring the faint scent of him. He smelled of…butterflies in my stomach.
I needed help. Seriously.
I fell asleep quickly but woke up before my alarm again, and as I reached out in the dark to find my phone, squinting at the light from the screen and stretching…
“Hey.”
I nearly leapt out of my skin. Fuck me. Where’d he come from?
“Sorry!” I gasped out, trying not to fall off the bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you! When did you get here? I didn’t even hear you come in. I could’ve been robbed and not even noticed! Are you a trained cat burglar as well as a famous actor?”
“I’m not just a pretty face,” he said.
Phone still in hand, I shuffled around so I could look at him. He squinted at the brightness of the screen and swatted my hand away.
“You’re not just a pretty face,” I agreed. “Did you have a good night?”
“Yeah.” He pulled the duvet up under his chin, smiling a little when I brushed a strand of hair out of his face. I don’t know how or why it happened, but we did it all the time—touched each other’s face. He still stroked my cheek, pretending to soothe my now invisible bruise. I brushed his hair out of his eyes. He needed it cut, but he wasn’t allowed while filming as Cass Powell.
It drove me mad.
Hedrove me mad.
“I need to get up for work,” I said softly. “You working today?”
“Not until later.” He shuffled around under the sheets. I bet he was naked. He always slept naked.
“Want dinner tonight?” That was me hoping.
“I shouldn’t be too late. Need to go work out, but perhaps we can grab noodles after the gym or something?”
“Like a date?” I was kidding, but that didn’t stop the blush forming on my face. The room was dark but not dark enough. I could see every little freckle on his skin…and his smile.
“Go to work, Matt.”
“Have a good day, bed thief,” I retaliated. His chuckles shook the bed.
Once I was dressed and had tamed my hair into some kind of half-tidy state, I pottered around the kitchen and poured some of the twatty cereal he’d bought and milk into a bowl. I ate it standing against the kitchen sink. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good. Like eating damp sawdust. Ugh. I’d have to go shopping at some point because I was once again out of everything.
I smiled, imagining going around the supermarket with Con. He’d told me he’d never been shopping. His runners went for him, and his mum ordered everything online. It was funny, the little things I’d picked up about him. I’d guessed his favourite food would be some ridiculous protein shake. He’d told me it was croissants. I wanted to take him to the little French bakery next to the Tube station for coffee and pastries. Ones with chocolate inside. And jam tarts. I loved jam tarts.
I didn’t notice until I turned around to dump the last dregs of clumpy milk in the sink that he was standing right next to me. Not naked, although he was only wearing boxers and hugging his chest. He looked…scared.
“I wanted to talk to you before you left.” His face was all scrunched up.
“OK?” Now I was scared too. I didn’t like ‘talks’. I didn’t like how nervous he looked. Most of all, I didn’t like that I couldn’t function when he was in my space. I lost all sense and sensibility and said things I would later regret.
“Sorry for sneaking in here last night. I did mean to give you some space, but I…I got back to the hotel, and I couldn’t settle. I hate it there. It’s like I’m being watched and judged when I know I’m not. I can’t relax. I can’t even leave my dirty laundry out because I worry about the cleaner judging me. It’s stupid, but that’s what happens when you’re alone all the time. The only time I can relax is when I go home to my mum’s on the weekends. I can breathe there, like I can get rid of this Con Telford bullshit and just be me. I can breathe here too, with you. You have no idea how nice it is to walk through that door and just hang out with you.”
He stopped and gasped, having said all that in one breath.
For a moment I just stood there staring at him. Then, remembering that he was actually a real person, not just an actor on TV, not a figment of my imagination, I reached out and stroked his arm.
“You know I don’t mind having you here. I think we’re good for each other.”
“You’re good for me,” he said. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You…You get me.”
