Chapter Thirty-Eight Si
After he’d said goodbye to Adam, Si had damn near floated back from the pub. He’d gone there expecting to have to fight Zig’s corner, and instead he’d got Adam’s blessing, or good as.
It was like . . . It was like opening a lock for a client who’d gone out and left their keys in the house, and that sweet, sweet moment when the last of the tumblers fell into place.
It was like finding the last rare figure to complete a collection, or going for a ride and hitting the perfect combination of clear roads, good weather, and the bike purring like a well-fed cat.
He had Zig back in his life—and his heart—and his best mate was okay with that.
It was so much more than he’d have hoped for only a few days ago.
He couldn’t wait for Zig to get home.
Si didn’t have to wait that long, as it happened, which was good cos he hadn’t been able to settle to anything, not even old Doctor Who episodes on iPlayer.
When Zig opened the door to let himself in, his frown was a minor dampener on the mood. “Rough shift?” Si asked sympathetically.
“What?” Zig blinked at him. “No. It was fine.”
Then he smiled one of those fake smiles of his.
Minor became major, and Si’s heart plummeted. “Right. You, uh, want a drink, or sommat?”
“Cheers. Beer’s good. You having one?”
“No, I had a couple already. I’ll put the kettle on.”
Zig didn’t follow him into the kitchen, and he didn’t ask how Si’s evening had gone, either.
Si tried not to let it get him down as he grabbed a beer from the fridge and made himself a hot chocolate.
Zig was tired, that was all. And working in a pub, he probably had to smile at wankers all the time. He just hadn’t switched that off yet.
When Si took the drinks into the living room, Zig was sprawled on the sofa typing into his phone. He stopped abruptly when Si appeared in his line of vision and shoved his phone into his pocket.
Well, that ain’t good.
But there’s no proof it’s bad, neither.
Si considered Zig. Zig seemed to shrink, somehow, the longer it went on, and Si’s heart clenched.
“Zig, mate. I’m not daft. I know something’s changed since this afternoon.
Is it about Adam? Cos you ain’t got nothing to worry about there.
I met up with him tonight, and he said he’s gonna give you a chance—”
“He did?” Zig blurted out.
Si wondered how much of it was about Adam’s change of heart, and how much was because he’d been thinking about something else entirely. “Yep. In them words exactly.”
“Why?” Zig went on.
“Cos he’s not a bad bloke?” Si reached out and pulled Zig towards him. Zig came readily, so he probably wasn’t having second thoughts about them being a couple. “And I ain’t either, so are you gonna tell me what’s bothering you? We’re in this together, you and me.”
Zig’s body tensed in Si’s arms, then slowly softened again, although he still didn’t seem relaxed exactly. “You sure that’s what you want? Plenty of people would tell you I’m trouble.”
“Are you?”
Zig gave a laugh that was almost a sob. “Fuck, yeah. I don’t wanna be,” he added in a whisper.
Si kissed him on the top of the head, tasting hair gel and getting a faint whiff of beer. “Whatever it is, I’m pretty sure we can handle it together. You wanna tell me what it is?”
“I . . .” Zig sniffed. “It might never happen.”
“Still. Problem shared, problem halved and all that bollocks.”
“Dunno what I did to deserve you,” Zig mumbled against Si’s chest.
“Must have been something pretty bad.”
“Fuck off. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Warmth spread through Si. “Same here.”
He wasn’t prepared for Zig to slip out of his arms and stand, running his hand through his hair. “We oughtta turn in, yeah? You’ve got an early start in the morning.”
“We’ve got time to talk if you need to. You’ve hardly touched your beer.” His own hot chocolate was still sitting sadly in the mug, having lost all right to the first part of its name.
Zig didn’t turn to look at him. “Sorry. Not thirsty after all. Nah, I’m good. I just need to get my head round some stuff. Sort out what I need to do. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
Bugger it all to hell and back. Si took a deep breath. No point pushing. Zig clearly didn’t want to share whatever was worrying him. But it hurt being shut out like that. It was still early days, though. Si had to remember that. “Right, then. You coming to bed?”
There was a horrible pause. Then Zig said, “Course I am,” and Si could breathe again.