Chapter Ten
Sometimes I really don’t like my friends anymore.
Tim blinked at the words on the screen of his work mobile, tapping the message automatically. He knew it was from Lachlan before seeing the name because who else would it be baring their soul to him after midnight?
Tim rubbed his eyes as if the text would disappear. That’s what he should’ve wanted. Who did Lachlan think he was?
After Tim had dropped off Maria—and begged off going in to say hello to Warren—he’d hung out with Cody and Liam and had a few beers, followed by wine with a late-night takeaway Thai red curry they’d insisted on paying for as a welcome dinner.
They’d chatted mostly about the beach and lifeguarding, and Tim had forgotten until it was too late that he was their new boss and he shouldn’t have bored them with shop talk. They hadn’t seemed to mind, at least.
He should’ve been fast asleep now between a full stomach and the grog. Instead, he was naked in bed in the dark scrolling footy reaction videos. And now, he was staring at the text.
Right, this was the part when Tim would have a go at him. The fucking nerve to be complaining about Ryan and the boys like Tim was his mate. To be texting him at all for anything that wasn’t about work! Lachlan needed to pull his head in.
Tim tapped the keyboard with his thumbs.
I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing, but
He stopped. What was Lachlan doing? Had something happened? Were he and Ryan okay? Was Lachlan drunk?
He should just delete the message and finally go to sleep.
So why did he copy Lachlan’s number into his personal mobile and start typing again?
What happened?
His thumb hovered over the send arrow.
The talk with Ryan had gone fairly well. The last thing Tim should be doing was getting in the middle of a row between mates or whatever the fuck this was. The last thing he needed was to talk to Lachlan at all.
But even after he turned off his phone, the unsent message still sitting there, he could only think about Lachlan and whether he was okay. In Bali, he’d said he’d left his mates in Kuta because he was sick of the partying.
If he hadn’t, they would’ve met again in the tower. And Tim wouldn’t have given him a second thought aside from vaguely remembering Ryan’s old friend.
Sure, when Lachlan had walked into that bar, Tim had noticed him.
His strong arms and firm arse. Thick hair and long eyelashes over those big brown eyes.
His full mouth and nervous, sunbeam smile.
The way he’d come too close to Tim, clearly eyeing him and thirsty for more than the free champers.
It had seemed like the perfect way to end the trip.
But Lachlan had known who he was. Tim couldn’t wrap his head around what he’d been thinking.
So why the hell wasn’t he deleting Lachlan’s number and going the fuck to sleep?
He kept remembering the flashes of shyness that made him want to take care of Lachlan. Sitting on the terrace as the sun set, chatting about nothing in particular, the light golden over Lachlan’s face. Tim had wanted him—and he’d had him. It was done. Finished.
Though now he thought about Lachlan in the lagoon, so uptight and clearly nervous. Vulnerable on Tim’s lap, needing him. No one had needed him like that in a long time.
“Probably because you’re usually not hooking up with someone young enough to be your bloody son,” he reminded himself, his voice hoarse in the darkness.
But Lachlan was an adult. He’d been a lawyer for fuck’s sake. He wasn’t some kid. And he’d known what he was doing in Bali.
Then why did Tim want to take him in his arms and tell him he was safe and make him come and—
“Block the number,” he growled. There had been an electric current between them in Bali. He couldn’t deny it. But that had to be the end of it. They couldn’t be texting in the middle of the night. He had to cut this cord between them.
The phone was ringing on the other end before Tim even knew what he was doing. He gripped it to his ear as Lachlan tentatively said, “Hello?”
“What’re you playing at?”
“I… Nothing.”
“We’re not mates.” He spat the word.
“I know.”
After a few seconds of silence, Tim demanded, “What happened? Thought the lads were going to see a band in Freo.”
“We did. Then they wanted to go to the beach.”
“Oh, for—you’re too old to be partying on the beach like ratbags.”
“I know, but they were on a nostalgia kick since Daz is getting married, and he tried to go swimming. I was barely able to drag him out.”
“Christ!” Tim bit back a lecture on how dangerous it was to drink and swim. Lachlan knew. “Ry let him go in?” Disappointment filled him.
“He was too drunk. Sobered up and helped me in the end.”
That was something. “Everyone okay?”
“Yeah. I just… I don’t want to do this anymore.
Except for Ry, we have nothing in common these days.
I’m over partying. I’ve known the boys since we were kids, and they’re my mates, but…
This isn’t who I am.” He laughed sharply.
“I say that like I have a clue. Supposed to be a lawyer, but you know how that worked out.”
“I don’t, actually.” He couldn’t resist asking, “What happened?”
Lachlan was quiet before finally saying, “You won’t tell anyone?”
Tim’s heart tripped. “I won’t tell.”
He shifted on the mattress, suddenly restless, the hum of desire for Lachlan growing louder for no good reason. And hold on—why were they having a chat? He was supposed to be giving Lachlan a good spray before hanging up.
“I don’t know why I’m making such a big deal about it. Haven’t told Bel or Ry or anyone. They think I quit. And I did, kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“I would’ve fired me too.”
“Okay.” He waited.
“You really want to hear this?”
This was the part when Tim needed to say no, tell him to stay away, and hang up. Instead, he said, “Go on.”
“It was the firm my dad worked at—Wagner, McKay, Berrentini, and Wong, though at the time Kevin Wong hadn’t made partner yet. Before the accident, Dad had been working his arse off to be the first Asian partner. Add Yang to the sign.”
Lachlan was quiet for a moment before going on. “I vowed I’d do it for him. It’s cliché, I know—the son pledging to finish his father’s quest.”
“Understandable though. My father was a wanker I never knew.” He grimaced. “I always said I’d be a good dad. Never abandon my son.”
“You didn’t abandon Ry. You stuffed up.”
“Understatement of the bloody year. Then I gave up on trying to fix it.”
“Seems to me you were punishing yourself. That you thought you didn’t deserve his forgiveness.”
Tim squirmed in the darkness. “We’re supposed to be talking about you. Scratch that—we’re not supposed to be talking at all.” It was time to hang up the bloody phone.
“Why’d you spend Ry’s money?”
Tim should tell him to mind his own business and hang up. “Because I’m a selfish arsehole.”
“You’re not, though. That’s the thing I can’t figure out. You were always kind and generous and—”
“How would you know? You were a kid.” He cursed under his breath. “Something I’d rather not think about.”
“I can’t wrap my head around it. The money. It was just…wrong.”
“Haven’t you ever done something you knew was wrong? But you did it anyway because you thought you’d get away with it?” After Tim said it, he realized the implication. “Ring any bells?”
Lachlan cleared his throat, then quietly admitted, “Yes.”
“I really believed I’d be able to put it back. Every cent. No one the wiser and no harm done. Just needed it temporarily, and then we’d be good. Uprooting our lives wouldn’t have been for nothing. I wouldn’t fail my family.” He scoffed. “I was a bloody fool.”
“We all make mistakes.”
“This was a big one, mate.”
“It’s never too late to make amends. Or forgive.
You know that saying—that resentment is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die?
It was one of my mum’s favorites. Even when she and Dad were rowing over his job, the next day, they’d both try really hard to make peace.
Mum would say, ‘life’s too short for grudges. ’”
Lachlan’s breath hitched, and Tim wished he could reach a hand out over the phone to steady him. “She was a smart woman, your mum.”
“She was. When they died, becoming a lawyer was a goal to focus on. My Auntie Jo told me to go to uni for what I wanted to do, but what was that? I didn’t know. This, I knew.”
Tim made a sound so Lachlan knew he was listening. “Mm.”
They’d been in Queensland when Lachlan’s parents were killed. He remembered tears tracking down Ryan’s red, pimply face past the wispy beard he’d been trying to grow. How powerless Tim had felt as he’d held him.
“The partners were thrilled to have me. It was a real feel-good story for the firm. Honoring my father’s legacy after tragic loss and all that. I still had to put in ninety hours a week on the grunt work, but I told myself it was what I wanted.”
“Until it wasn’t.”
Lachlan exhaled a long breath that Tim could imagine brushing over his skin.
“I hated it. The long hours being shut up in an office with the air con blasting. The boring work. Most of all it was the clients. Corporations and real estate developers. Greedy dickheads who want to tear down everything and put up expensive new apartments and shopping centers.” He laughed.
“Talk about a cliché. ‘Lawyer discovers capitalism: news at eleven.’”
Tim chuckled. “Better late than never.”
“I kept hearing my mum’s voice in my head.”
“Encouraging you to listen to your gut?”
Lachlan laughed. “Rowing with my dad, actually. Giving him a spray about working too much. They’d started arguing about it when I was in year seven or so.
Off and on. Dad would agree and be home more, and there’d be peace.
Then he’d have a big case—an ‘important’ case, he’d say, and the cycle would start up again.
I always remember her asking him to ‘define important.’ Then saying those wankers would never be important. ”