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Jamie eyed his watch, “You expecting anyone?”
She glanced down at his wrist. It was 1am, and shook her head. Jamie was halfway up the hallway before she said, “Damon.” It had to be. Taylor had stayed behind at the club to make sure he got home.
Jamie stopped his hand on the latch. “You don’t have to see him. I can get rid of the idiot.”
But she wanted to see him. Check him over; let her eyes catalogue his now too lean form, his hollowed cheeks, his pallor and weariness. She wanted to hear him; his tumbled gravel tone, cut up and uneven, and when she’d done that, seen her fill, heard his voice, she’d send him home. She’d work out how to talk to him, how to know whether to stay with him or go when they’d both had sleep.
She touched Jamie’s shoulder. “Open the door.”
He did, stepping aside, but keeping himself slightly in front of her. Damon stood on the doormat, feet planted wide, arms loose at his side, head angled down. He lifted his chin and opened his eyes. “I had to come. I had to hear your voice.”
“Short lead tonight, mate,” said Jamie and Damon coughed his surprise. “You should go home. Talk to Georgia tomorrow.”
“Georgia, is that what you want?”
She’d seen him; less the sullen stranger she’d expected, more the old Damon, in control and not asking for favours.
He cleared his throat. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go now. You don’t need to say a word. I behaved appallingly. All I want is a chance to apologise, but you get to call the shots. I’m done with making it about me.”
He wasn’t slurring, he wasn’t weaving, but he could still break her heart. She leaned into Jamie and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I’ll be fine.”
Jamie cast a disgruntled look Damon’s way. “You call me anytime you need.” He stepped around the door and smack up against Damon. “You’re sober?”
“Enough.”
“You upset her again tonight, you answer to me.”
“Fair.”
“Look at me and tell me you’re not going to do anything that’s going to make me regret leaving here without you.”
Damon’s hand went to Jamie’s chest. “You deserve an apology too. All of you do. I’m sorry. I blew it. I was trying to push you away so I didn’t have to know you were watching me fuck things up.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t trying to drown. I just need time by myself to come to terms with what’s happened.”
“And you couldn’t have said that? Like none of us are deaf or insensitive to what you’re going through.”
“It’s not just my voice that’s gone. It’s who I am. I didn’t know how to say it.”
“Jesus.” Jamie grabbed for Damon’s arm and they fumbled into a hug. “You’re saying it now, mate.”
Georgia was the one who gripped the doorjamb. Damon’s fists were wrapped in Jamie’s shirt, his knuckles white. He said something she didn’t hear but made out Taylor’s name. The two men parted. Jamie giving her a nod, a watery smile before taking the stairs.
Damon stood where he was, waiting. Now she soaked in the sight of him. He was safe, he’d come home to her. She ached to throw herself in his arms, have them circled around her, have his breath at her ear.
“Georgia?”
“You frightened me. I hate that you did it deliberately.”
He closed his eyes, squeezing them, his shoulders lifted.
“You shut me out. Did you want me to leave you?”
“Yes.” His eyes flared open. Her breath stopped at the shock of the truth. He took a step forward, felt for the door. “Yes. I didn’t want to put you through…” his voice failed and he rolled his head on his neck in frustration.
“I should ask you to leave.”
“I’ll do exactly what you need.”
“I need you to be true with me. I need you to talk to me.”
