Chapter 8 #2
I turn to see Xavier striding towards us.
His hair is loose, and he’d decided to dress to torment.
He’s wearing a pair of jeans that I presume are being held together by willpower because it’s not the fabric.
There are holes all over them, and through them, his skin glows golden.
He’s also wearing a T-shirt that’s so tight I can see his nipples and the gold bar in one of them.
Emblazoned across the front of the shirt are the words. My Other Daddy is a Sugar Daddy.
My lip twitches, and I suck in a breath, trying not to laugh.
Jez huffs. “I’m not letting him go out like that.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t have you turning into a Victorian maiden aunt on my bingo card for this year.”
“Oh, shut up.” He stands up as Xavier reaches us.
“Alright?” Xavier says cheerily.
“Are you going out like that?” Jez demands.
Xavier gives him a crooked smile laced with far too much charm. “I thought so, yes. Why?”
Jez waves a hand. “Well, I’m thinking you don’t particularly look very shy.” He rubs his neck. “That’s all.”
Xavier’s eyes narrow. “Shy? Why did you think I was shy?”
“Well, erm, your grandmother.”
He bursts into laughter and pats Jez’s arm. “Yeah, no. She was taking the piss. I think I might be the furthest you could ever get from shy.”
He turns to me, his back to Jez, and smiles at me. His eyes travel up and down my body, and then he licks his lips. “Reuben, good morning,” he says huskily.
“Morning,” I say in a repressive tone, which has the wonderful effect of making him look like he’s going to laugh. I shoot him a quick glare and then smile at Jez. “So, are we ready? Got everything?” My lip twitches. “Xavier, do you need to pop back to your room to get the rest of your jeans?”
He snorts, his eyes twinkling, and I find myself helplessly echoing his smile. Jez directs a curious glance at me and I shut down my expression.
“There’s been a change of plans for today,” Jez tells Xavier.
“Yeah?” Xavier says. “Why?”
“Because I’m an idiot, and you’re not two.”
Xavier’s laugh is warm and appreciative, and Jez’s eyes light up.
Jez has always preferred easy approval to any questions.
There are only a couple of people in his life—and I’m one of them—from whom he tolerates pushback.
I’m his partner and he needs me. If Xavier can be patient and continue to find things in Jez to admire—and Jez doesn’t behave like a complete twat—they might have a chance of getting on.
“Reuben’s found something better for us to do,” Jez explains. “Something you might like.”
Xavier turns to me, eyes shiny and wide. “Really?”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “Yeah. I think you’ll like it.”
“Okay, let’s move, people.” Jez claps his hands. “The Uber’s here.”
We climb out of the cab, and Xavier pauses, looking up at the old building that was a town hall and is now a prestigious gallery. A brightly coloured banner is strung across the exterior.
“Past America. A Comic Book Retrospective,” he reads. He turns to me, his face full of excitement. “Oh my god, really?”
I relax and can’t help but smile. “Yep. You approve?”
“Absolutely.” He’s lost the bored ennui he seems to adopt as a shield.
“I’ll just go and get the tickets,” Jez says and strides over to the booth.
“So, this is your idea for me?” Xavier says softly.
I nod awkwardly. “I saw a review of it in The Guardian, and I thought you’d be into it.”
He edges close enough that I can smell his shampoo and cologne. It’s spicy and warm—amber and a trace of vanilla. “So Jez—”
“Your dad.”
He rolls his eyes. “Jez,” he repeats firmly, “who has never taken the time to get to know me in my nineteen years of life, thought the zoo was a good idea.” There’s something on his face that makes my blood pound.
It’s fascination and something else. Maybe gratitude.
“And you, after knowing me for twenty-four hours, take me to an exhibit I’ve been dying to see but couldn’t afford the tickets for,” he finishes softly.
I clear my throat and run my hand through my hair. “Jez pulled some favours to get the tickets,” I lie. “I’m just relieved you like the idea. Sea lions might have been a better bet.”
“Well, I must say I’m sorry for them, because they’ll be going hungry without us feeding them.”
“Just go easy on Jez.” I keep my voice low. “It’s all as new to him as it is to you.”
He shoots me a very strange look, and then Jez waves at us from the booth, tickets in hand. I go to move past Xavier, but stop as he grabs my hand. His grip is firm and hidden by our bodies. “Why were you relieved, Reuben?”
“Sorry?”
“Why were you relieved that I was happy about this? You don’t know me, so why were you bothered?”
I look nervously at Jez, who’s stopped to check his phone. “You’re Jez’s son.”
Xavier leans closer. “Liar,” he whispers. He pastes a sunny smile on his face and looks at Jez. “Are we ready? This looks epic.”
Jez gives him a distracted smile. “Yeah. Glad you like the idea. Reuben had to pull a few favours to get the tickets.”
Shit. I bite my lip, and Xavier turns a sparkling glance at me. “Who would have thought that?” he says merrily.
Shut up, I mouth.
The old building still bears traces of its former existence in its high ceilings and the ornate stonework. I pause when we enter the main hall, getting my bearings.
My brain automatically scans for snipers, noting potential positions. I curl my fingers into fists and shove them into my pockets, holding on to threads of reality. I’m in England. I’m safe. I chant the words silently and close my eyes until I slowly relax, feeling my heart slow its frantic beat.
A few moments later, I open my eyes, taking in the people milling around. Xavier is watching me, his eyes as bright as a blackbird’s and twice as curious. I brace myself for twenty questions, but he just smiles at me. Then he pats my arm. “I think the villain section first.”
“Oh—” I clear my throat. “That’s fine with me. It seems very suited to your personality.”
“Thank you.”
Jez appears at my side, making me jump. He thankfully doesn’t notice as he’s checking his phone. “Jack’s been trying to get me,” he says, referencing our editor. “Any message for him?”
I shake my head slowly. “None,” I say hoarsely.
I stare at him. He’s so happy and excited by this return to Afghanistan.
We’ve both been through exactly the same terrible things in our professional lives.
He was by my side through everything, so how is it that he’s so blithe and seemingly unaffected, and I’m quivering like a stray dog in a storm?
It makes me feel small and almost ashamed.
He pats my arm. “Okay. I’ll give him the details of the trip.” He looks over at Xavier almost as an afterthought. “Do you mind looking around with Reuben? This call is important.”
I wince, but Xavier just gives him a sweet smile. If I were Jez, it might make me nervous, but he doesn’t notice. “Not at all,” Xavier says. “Work is work.”
Jez gives him the most approving look he’s levelled at him so far and disappears into the crowd, heading for the exit.
“He didn’t mean that,” I say. He raises an eyebrow, so I elaborate. “It’s not more important than you.”
He shrugs. “It’s fine. I get to see the show with you. Winner-winner-chicken-dinner as far as I’m concerned.”
The next few hours are possibly the most pleasurable of my adult life, which, I suppose says something about the way I’ve been spending my time if watching a beautiful boy with a happy smile on his face is the pinnacle.
Nevertheless, that’s how I feel as I trail after him.
He selects an array of informational leaflets from each exhibit space, and I take them all as he hands them to me, a bemused smile on my face.
“Have I become a pack horse, and no one told me?” I ask.
He laughs and then slaps my arse. “Giddy up, Brian. Get a move on, you silly pony.”
I shy away, gazing frantically around, but luckily Jez isn’t back from his latest phone call.
He’s barely spent ten minutes with Xavier which rather negates the purpose of this visit.
“Be careful,” I chide Xavier, trying not to smile as he assumes a pious expression.
“And don’t bother looking at me like you’re innocent. ”
“Bah, I haven’t been innocent in a long time.”
“A long time? You’re only fucking nineteen.”
“Yes, but I’ve packed a lot of living into my time on this earth. I might even have wrinkles.”
“Yes, you’re positively fucking ancient.
” I edge closer to him as we stand in front of bright artwork.
The display isn’t part of the main exhibit—the lighting isn’t as bright here and the alcove is deserted apart from us.
“Let me see these wrinkles,” I say huskily, and the laughter fades from his face.
What the fuck am I doing? I should move away and make a joke.
Instead, we stare at each other, and the moment slows.
“Reuben,” he whispers.
I lean even closer, drawn into his gaze as if his blue eyes are some sort of tractor beam.
“Are we nearly done?” We both jump as Jez’s voice comes from behind us.
I resist the urge to press my hand to my chest like a character in a scary movie, and breathe in subtly, but Jez’s expression and demeanour are mostly bored as he pauses to look at the art.
He probably couldn’t imagine anyone finding his son charming and interesting.
His son. What the fuck am I doing here? I’m flirting with the nineteen-year-old son of my best friend. Are warzones not dangerous enough for me?
I step away from Xavier unobtrusively and then make myself smile at Jez. “Yeah, I think we’re done.”