Chapter 18
Fox
How I had let myself go along with all this was madness. Him booking a hotel? The Kilmartin Hotel? Had I really expected that I would willingly let him fuck me in there? Next door to Angus and Eileen?
I’d been too deep in this haze of everything happening at once to actually think clearly, because absolutely not. He wasn’t staying in some hotel. Not when I was right here, and I wanted him in my bed.
Which in itself was a massive mistake.
“I’m going to regret this,” I said, walking up the lane. Him carrying his bag. Me? Dragging him along by the hand. It was cold but at least not raining, and the walk was doing its intended job: clearing my head. One gin and tonic and I went all fuzzy, so this helped. This was good.
“Why?” he huffed behind me. I was used to this, the brisk walks, the fresh air and the constant movement.
There were no fancy gyms up here; instead, we had hills and dips and mountainsides and ravines.
Lakes. Puddles. And one mother-fucker of a gravelly lane known as Cardiac Hill.
Noah was obviously an office guy, and he was huffing and puffing behind me.
“Almost there.” I was still holding his hand, dragging him upwards.
“You trying to kill me? I had two pints. Didn’t dare say no to that Angus.”
“Nope. You’ll get used to this, and you’ll have to learn that…no. You don’t say no to Angus. If you can’t finish your drink? Those big plant pots in the pub get a good watering. Don’t say no. You want to be in Angus’s good books.”
“He’ll get mad anyway; I have a car, and I left it parked outside the hotel.”
I had to laugh because this was very much me.
“We’ll pick it up tomorrow. No worries.”
“Fox.”
“Noah.”
I stopped him right there, on the incline.
Held on to him as I leant in and kissed him.
Because he was there, because I could and mostly because I couldn’t imagine not doing it.
This ridiculously normal man, who was just here.
Late at night, standing on the lane with his bag, and all I wanted to do was get him naked and in my bed.
Not necessarily for sex, which, by the way, I was hoping would happen, but right now? I just needed to find my way back to what we’d been.
“Sorry about the hotel. It was rude and inconsiderate, making you book that. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Well, we got to have a drink?”
“I made you leave half that pint.”
“Don’t mind. As long as I get to be with you.”
“You will. Just up the top here, and we’re there.”
“I drove past here earlier.”
“Well, welcome to Kilmartin School. In the daytime, we have security on the gate. At night, it’s locked with code entry only. We change the code every week because the boys keep figuring it out and going off on adventures in the middle of the night.”
“Sounds like boys.”
“They’re an interesting bunch. Start of term, lots of new starters who need to learn the ropes and the rules.”
“How did it go with that new little boy?”
“Bailey?”
“Yes.”
“He’s settling in. Slowly. Won’t wear the clothes he was given. I still haven’t had a chance to take him shopping, but the major issue is that he hates his room. The housemistress keeps finding him sleeping downstairs on the sofa with the dog.”
“Sounds difficult.”
“It is. There are no magic fixes for these kids, and I find sometimes you just have to wait them out. Let them do their thing until we find the right balance. A little routine and good food is a start.”
“You have dogs.”
“Four.” I laughed, pushing the gate open.
“They sleep in their houses but roam around the property during the day. We’ll walk them tomorrow; that’s always fun.
Now, here we are. This is the main school building, to the left is the kitchen block, then the teachers’ accommodation is across the courtyard, and our student houses are further up here. Greenhouses at the back…”
“Fox, I can’t see a bloody thing.”
“Welcome to Scotland. Pitch dark.”
“You sure there are no ghosts here?” I kind of got his point, entering the dark school building, the creak of the large wooden door not helping my argument.
I knew this building like the back of my hand, and I never really bothered getting the lights on at night.
Just lit my way with my phone, up the stairs, down the hallway past my office and pushed the door open. Where all the lights were on and…
“Hi!”
Okay. This was…unexpected.
“Butcher, this is my private accommodation.”
The kid didn’t even look guilty, curled up on my sofa with an iPad. School issue, so at least he wasn’t accessing anything he shouldn’t.
“Well, you weren’t here, and there are too many people at Spring House. It’s chaos. It was nice and quiet here, and your door was open.”
“Doesn’t mean…” I started, then turned around and sighed.
“Noah, this is Butcher. Bailey Butcher. Butcher, this is Mr Fairweather.”
“I hate that name, don’t call me that.” That was the kid, and Noah tried to hold back a laugh.
“It’s what we do here, we use our last names. It’s polite.”
“Well, I’m changing mine. I hate it. Is Mr Fairweather a teacher too?”
“No, he’s my friend; he’s visiting for the weekend.”
“Fairweather. Weird name.”
“I know,” Noah said, looking like he was enjoying this far too much. “I always thought so. They used to call me Badweather at school.”
Noah. I loved him. In my head? I’d already made that part clear. Standing here all relaxed like this wasn’t an…issue.
“Butcher, I’m going to take you back to Spring House now because it’s way past your bedtime.”
“It’s the weekend.”
“Yes, but I want to spend some time with Mr Fairweather.”
“I’m no trouble, I’m just sitting here.” The kid? Oh God. Now he was getting on my nerves.
“Come on,” I urged, then turning to Noah, “Sorry. Just taking him back, and I’ll be five minutes. Make yourself at home.”
“Not fair,” Bailey grumped, moving at the speed of a slug. A very sluggish one.
“Chop, chop.” I sounded like Mrs Cook.
“You can’t just go into my private accommodation,” I said sternly as we traversed the courtyard in the dark. Bailey wasn’t wearing shoes. Another thing that gave me guilt trips galore. His poor, socked feet made weird noises against the sharp gravel as he stumbled along next to me.
“You said I could come see you, any time,” he retaliated. Truth. I had said that.
“We need to make some rules then. About when you can come see me and when you can’t. Night time is a no.”
“I hate that room I’m in. It smells bad.”
“It doesn’t smell.”
“The bed smells.”
“We should…” Fuck. I should have done this last week. It was part of my duties, and I should have taken the time. “Monday. You and I are driving up to Oban, and we’ll get you some things for your room. New bedding, and I think you need some new clothes.”
He was still in that threadbare tracksuit. Saying nothing.
“Mr Bethan gave you some clothes, I believe.” I tried to sound cheerful. “You should wear them. Then you can get this tracksuit washed. You need to wear shoes.”
“Those clothes, they’re not mine, are they?”
Another conversation that I didn’t want to have standing in the hallway of Spring House at eleven in the evening on a Friday night. And here was Mr Bethan. Thank God.
“Butcher. Good evening, Mr Riley.”
“Butcher needs a snack and some clean sleepwear,” I said. Because I was an idiot. Then I fled.
He was still there, Noah, which resolved the biggest of my current concerns. Maybe all of this would have made him run again, and that would have been awful. But he hadn’t. Instead, he was standing by the little kitchenette making us tea.
“Found everything. You even have milk.”
“Asked our cook for supplies. I need to get better at organising myself here.”
“Kid okay?”
“Yes. He will be. I need to take him out on Monday and get him his own things for his room. I just didn’t have time this week, and now I feel guilty.”
“He’s just a kid. Lonely probably, and he likes you. Is this a regular thing? Him turning up here?”
“I’m locking the door, just in case,” I said, doing just that. “He turns up…sometimes. I told him he could, and he’s… It’s not easy. I need him to make some friends, and then things will settle down.”
“Shush,” he said, this Noah. This smiling, lovely man, standing there in my home like he belonged here. I realised he did. He absolutely did, and yes, that was me, traversing the room faster than I’d planned on and throwing myself at him.
Because I could. Because he was here, and now? Now I was trying to kiss him and touch every part of him and talk at the same time, clearly unable to get my brain coordinated enough to form a solid…sensible plan of action.
“I’ve done all those things this time, I’ve…douched,” came out of my mouth. Yes, I expected sex. Lots of it. I hadn’t had it since that holiday, and I wanted it. I also wanted that cup of tea, and I wanted him naked, and why did he look so good in a hoodie?
“Fox.”
“I know I was a mess last time, but I’m actually sensible and…”
“Fox, shut the hell up. Do you think I care? Do you think you have to do all that…with me? Me?”
“I don’t want you to think…”
“Do you expect me to…do all that?”
“I don’t know?”
“Darling.”
“Darling?” I wrapped him up in my arms, fully dressed and stupid. Held him and rocked him, and I finally felt like things had… It wasn’t even an argument. It was just him being anxious and me being me. And it didn’t fucking matter.
“It really doesn’t fucking matter,” he said softly into my hair.
His fingers back in it, all tangled and tugging at it.
“It’s not something I expect from you, and I can tell you know; I don’t have a clue about how to…
douche. I may be a doctor, but that is not something I’ve ever…
done because medically it’s really not necessary.
The body does a good job cleaning itself out, and messing with that can cause other issues.
Lubrication is important, though. Keeps the linings protected from friction. ”
“Okay,” I whispered into his armpit. Being held far too tight.
“Unless it’s a firm boundary for you, the douching thing. Lube is mine. Lots of it.”
I giggled. Tried to shake my head when I couldn’t. His fist in my hair. Bending my neck back.
“Don’t make big grand gestures for me, because I don’t expect them. I don’t expect anything, Fox. All I want is to spend some time with you to see if—”
He stopped. Pushed my head back against his chest. His lips in my hair.
Stupid idiot. Stupid giant-man-dude. I’d forgotten how big he was, since I’d mostly spent time with him being carried or lying down. This was new. The hugging. The way he held me. I liked it… No. Loved it. Fuck. This. All this.
“You’ll leave me on Sunday, and I’ll be a wreck again.”
“No. Because we can make more plans. Have a schedule.”
“Doesn’t work. I’ve done long distance before, and he cheated, that fuck-tard-Thomas. The whole thing was a mess, and afterwards, it made me paranoid and crazy. Hated it.”
“I’m not like that. I’m not Thomas. I don’t cheat, well. I’ve never been in a long-term relationship so…”
“I want exactly that, the long-term thing. I want to live together, permanently, and have kids and be… I want the whole fairytale, Noah. I know that’s even more crazy, but…”
“Don’t you think I want that?”
“It’s, like, our first date.”
“Is the timeline important? I think not. We’ve talked for weeks. We’ve already established that sexually…”
“We fucked…like constantly for two days.”
“And it was great.”
“You want kids?”
“Of course I want kids.”
“You’ve just had a prime example of what parenthood would be like. Grumpy, impossible teenagers who won’t do what they’re told.”
“Also, grumpy, impossible teenagers who just need someone to sit down and tell them that things will be fine. Life is rotten at times, but we all get there. We make it in the end, don’t we?”
“That’s an awful generalisation, Noah. Not all of us make it.”
“I know that. But a kid doesn’t have to know all the bad parts of life. They’ll figure things out on their own; all they need to know is that we’ve got their backs. That we love them.”
“You sound like we already have this figured out.”
“I’m forty, Fox. I’m at the point in life where these kinds of things aren’t such a big deal. Maybe you should take that kid in, give him a dad and a home?”
“I can’t do that. That would be breaking every possible professional boundary here. Just him turning up here is grounds for me reporting myself to our safeguarding committee and having the kid moved.”
“Fox. Don’t do that.”
“I will have to. I need to maintain a professional and safe distance here.”
“But is that what Bailey needs?”
“Noah.”
“Fox.”
I let go of him, just a little. “Our tea is going cold.”
“Then let’s sit on the sofa and drink it.”
“I feel…”
“What?”
“Why is this not more awkward?”
He laughed softly, walking backwards with those teacups firmly in his hand, taking a seat and arranging himself on the sofa, as I sat myself down next to him. Accepted the cup from his hand.
“Because I think we ticked off all the awkwardness a few weeks back. My parents’ matchmaking, your ex making a spectacle of himself, you getting drunk, me being your very…impulsive rebound hook-up…”
“True.” I had to smile.
“And we’ve talked for weeks. I feel like…”
“You know me.”
“I do. A little. I know what you’re like.”
“I know you too. And I’m still scared you’ll run away from me when things get too much.”
“I’m not going to run away; I’ve settled down from that. You’re going to have to throw me out.”
“You’ve got a flight booked on Sunday. You’ll leave.”
“Maybe I won’t.” He winked.
“I’ll take that threat seriously.”
“I like your place. I feel like I’m guest-starring in some period drama. Are there servants?”
“Actually.” I had to grin. “Mrs Cook…and the cleaners come on a Thursday. We have a laundry service.”
“Spoilt.”
“Nah. Try to get a hundred or so kids to wash their shirts and get them ironed for an eight o’clock Monday start?”
“I see your point.”
“Also? The boys clean their rooms. The housemasters run a tight ship. Chores mean scores. Scores mean privileges.”
“Such as?”
“Headmaster’s outings. I take groups of kids out for dinner, and to the bowling alley. We go to the cinema at the end of each term. Sometimes we go to the adventure baths up in Oban. The seniors get a spa day after exams, which they all moan about but secretly love. Skincare became huge last year”
“TikTok.”
“You know about these things?”
“I deal with teenagers with massive dermatological outbreaks. Some are completely self-inflicted. TikTok is the gift that keeps on giving for us GPs.”
“I could do with you here. We could have our own GP.”
“You couldn’t afford me.”
“You could work for… I could pay you in sexual favours and tea.”
“Fox,” he warned.
I drank my tea. Because he smiled when I moved closer and let myself rest against his chest. Where I belonged.
I was fucked, wasn’t I?