Chapter Twenty-Nine Zig
The hot water did its best to unthaw the chill in Zig’s bones he’d been feeling since yesterday. He made his shower last as long as he reasonably could.
Si had seemed disappointed Zig wouldn’t be sitting down to a nice cosy family lunch with him and his parents, and he felt bad about that.
But, Christ, it would have been awkward enough at the best of times—what did Zig know about cosy family meals and how you were supposed to behave?
—but coming after Si had oh-so-gently dashed all Zig’s hopes of them ever getting back together . . .
Nope. No way. He’d rather stake himself out on the tor naked and wait for the crows to peck out his eyes.
And any other soft bits they fancied. Zig gave his hair a vicious scrub, then turned the water temperature down for a cold rinse off.
He felt worse than ever, lying to Si about having to go to work, but telling him the truth would’ve only made him sad.
This way, Si could go off to his mum and dad’s with a clear conscience.
Course, it left Zig with a day to fill on his own, but that was hardly new. He dried off, his hair leaving blue streaks on Si’s towel. Bugger. Better shove that in the wash before the stain dried in.
When he came out of the bathroom, Si broke into a smile.
Zig felt off-balance. Self-conscious. “What?”
“Your hair’s all fluffy.”
“Oh.” He’d have to gel it for tonight, but he couldn’t be arsed right now. “Yeah, uh, the colour’s run and all.” Guiltily, Zig held up the streaked towel.
“No worries. Chuck it over, and I’ll bung it in the machine.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Don’t matter if it don’t come out. I always reckoned these towels were a bit boring.”
Did he have to be so bloody nice? It really wasn’t helping.
“Right. You up for that toast? Kettle’s boiled, so I can make you a coffee in a jiff—”
“It’s okay,” Zig cut him off, unable to stand it any longer. “I’m heading straight out. Need a bit of fresh air before work, yeah?”
“Oh, right. Course you do. I’ll, uh, see you after work, then?”
“Yeah. Have a good time with your folks.” Zig grabbed his phone and his jacket and practically ran out of the flat.
There was a biting wind outside. The icy chill of his still-damp hair on his neck told him he was an idiot for running out like that, but then Zig knew that already.
He’d spent the night lurching from one dream to another, all of them featuring Si.
In some of them he’d held Zig, kissed him.
In others, he’d told him plainly he wasn’t good enough.
Zig wasn’t sure which ones had been worse.
It’d been torture to be in Si’s flat and have him acting like he cared.
Except he does care, doesn’t he? He just doesn’t want you. Maybe if he got cold enough, the pain from that would distract him from the aching hollow in his chest?
Zig snorted, his breath steaming in the air. Yeah, right. Pull yourself together, you tit. Time to stop the self-pity party and think about getting somewhere warmer. Or at least getting some food inside you.
It being Sunday, the libraries wouldn’t be open, though the shops mostly were. Not that Zig wanted to buy anything. No point accumulating stuff he’d have to shift out of Si’s flat all too soon, and it wasn’t like he had cash to spare in any case.
On the other hand, he was bloody starving.
He nipped into the small supermarket on the high street and picked up a meal deal of sandwiches, fruit juice, and crisps that’d serve as brunch.
Then he picked up another, checking the dates to make sure things would keep if Kai already had food for today.
At least lack of refrigeration wasn’t going to be a problem in this weather.
Then he set off on the way to the tor, hoping Kai would be there.
At least here his luck was in. Kai greeted him with a smile, then a suspicious look. “You okay? You look like you came out in a hurry.”
Zig ran a self-conscious hand through his ungelled hair. “This mate I’m staying with—it got a bit awkward.”
Kai frowned. “Have they been telling you it’s time to move out?”
“Nah, fuck no. Not that it ain’t.” Zig dropped to his haunches beside Kai.
He’d have sat down, but he didn’t have a sleeping bag and the ground looked fucking freezing.
“Just, I thought me and him were . . .” He shook his head.
“We went out yesterday. On his bike—fucking monster, that thing is; it’s well cool—and he was so . . . It was like it was a date, yeah?”
“But?” Kai prompted.
“Wasn’t, was it? He made that pretty clear in the end.”
“Bugger,” Kai said sympathetically. “He’s not, like, homophobic, is he?”
“He’s me ex, so no.”
“Doesn’t always follow.”
“Si’s not phobic about anyone. He’s a good bloke. The best.” Zig sighed. His kneecaps were slowly turning to ice. If he stayed crouched down too long, they’d probably snap when he tried to get up. He should probably care about that.
“That sucks.”
Zig gave them a look.
“Well, I mean, if he was a total shit, then you could feel good about not getting back together, couldn’t you?”
“Fair enough.” Zig had to laugh. “He deserves better than me anyway.”
“You seem all right to me.”
“Tell that to Si. Or rather, don’t bother cos he knows the truth about me.”
“But he still likes you as a mate? That’s something, innit?”
Zig nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. But . . . I got me hopes up, you know? I mean, I didn’t know I was doing it, but when he . . .”
“Made it clear?”
“Yeah, that was when I realised how much I wanted it. Wanted him. And I don’t mean only sex, okay?”
“Do you love him?”
Icy shards pierced Zig’s battered heart. “Yeah. I do.” Funny how he’d known that, really, but putting it into words hurt so fucking much.
“Does he know that?”
Zig stood up, his frozen joints protesting. “Don’t think it matters.”