Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Aidan
Ludo is hilarious. I don’t know if he means to be, but he is.
“It’s not that cold,” I call from the middle of the tiny, secret lake I’ve brought him to. “Come on.”
He shoots me a withering glare and takes another step into the crystal clear water. The late evening sun hits his back, and the glow around him makes him seem like an angel. My angel, cos the thought of anyone else having him has set my blood alight.
Unbidden—and definitely unwelcome—an image of the pale Scottish boy who worked in the chippie last year flashes into my mind.
Red-haired and rakish, he caught my eye immediately, but I was working away that summer, a forest project down south.
He was gone by the time I returned for good, and I wasn’t active enough online to keep in touch.
I picture him with Ludo, long pale limbs entwined, kissing, touching . . . more. It’s hot, I can’t deny it, but I’m jealous too. So fucking jealous. I’m waist-deep in freezing cold water just to calm myself down.
Ludo scrunches his face and wades in up to his knees. He stands a moment, silent and still, then his face breaks into a soft, glorious smile. “Oh. It’s not as cold as it is at the edge. That’s weird.”
“The sun hits the middle all day in high summer, and it’s not that deep, or wide, so it holds the heat.”
“So it’s warmer where you are.”
Ludo seems to speak almost to himself, but I nod anyway and extend my hand.
“Come see.”
He ventures closer, and my nerves tingle with every step he takes until he’s close enough for me to reach out and draw him in.
I feel like I should say something, but I kiss him before words form, soft and slow.
He tastes of mint and the lemon sweets he stuffed in his pocket when he rocked up at the gate.
I smooth my palms over his sun-warmed skin.
It’s sticky with clean sweat and then slippery as my hands travel lower.
There’s a raised scar over his hipbone. I want to ask if he got it when he thought he could fly, but at the same time, where his scars came from has begun to matter less to me.
It’s not that the details aren’t important; it’s more that none of it is as important as him.
Ludo breaks the kiss and stares at me. He shivers, though I know he’s not cold. “How do you know about this place?”
“Grew up around here. I didn’t like being at home or around people, but I loved the outdoors, so there’s a bunch of secret spots I found over the years.”
“Will you show me?”
“Of course.”
I want to kiss Ludo some more, but he’s so fascinated by the water that I leave him to wade around and play with Bella while I sit with my feet in the lake, smoking the cigarettes I haven’t quite managed to give up.
Ludo flicks water at me. I dodge and give him the finger. “Don’t start. I haven’t had a drink in weeks, and I quit the betting shop months ago. Give me a break.”
“Those things will kill you.”
“Nah. I’m nearly done with this box and I ain’t buying any more.”
He doesn’t believe me, but there’s not much I can do about that except stick to my word. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar.
Or a litter lout. I stub my fag out and tuck the butt back into the box. Then I wade into the water again to wash the stink from my hands. Bella brings me a stick. I toss it for her, and she charges through the water, grinning like a cartoon.
Ludo tips his head back and laughs and I decide that I am totally and ridiculously in love with him.
Ludo
Aidan has brought a picnic. Ham sandwiches with lots of English mustard, and salt-and-vinegar crisps. He’s even made a sandwich for Bella, minus the mustard, and we eat on the sandy bank of the perfect miniature lake.
After, we lie down and watch the sky change colour. Aidan holds my hand, but he seems distracted, so I shift onto my side to study him. “What’s up?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re thinking really loudly.”
“So why are you asking me what’s up if you can hear my thoughts?”
“Because I can only hear the tone, not the actual content.”
Aidan’s lips twitch. “That so?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not going to tell you what I’m thinking about.”
I respect his privacy, but curiosity burns bright until it becomes the first lick of paranoia. His eyes are closed. He’s not looking at me. What if he’s thinking about someone else?
My chest tightens, my hands grow numb, and I curse my brain for how fast its negativity can spill out into the rest of me.
Bella rolls over. Her back hits my spine, and the solidity of her down the length of my body is grounding, but it’s not enough to halt the lightning-fast shoots of doubt that grow from a single seed.
The sky grows darker and the sunshine takes my mood with it; all the while Aidan dozes next to me, face smooth and free of worry.
I want to hate him.
I can’t, because I love him.