Chapter 70
Rhys thought there had been a message in Mel’s parting words. Whatever it was, it had been indecipherable to Rhys. If Alfie understood, he hadn’t said anything on the drive here.
Maybe his wrist hurt more than he’d let on.
“Are you sure all you need is ice?” Rhys asked as he unlocked his apartment door. “Maybe they should have sent you for scans or something.”
“If there’s swelling tomorrow, I’m sure that is exactly what they will do,” he said. The first words he’d spoken since they had gotten into his car.
Rhys still didn’t know what he was supposed to do with any of it. Just like he didn’t know what to do with what the psychiatrist said. How it was opposite to everything he’d always been told about himself.
He could do one thing. “Come on. I have ice in my freezer.”
“That is a good place to keep it.”
Rhys rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help a smile. “All right, smart ass. Why’d you have your glove in the wrong place? I thought you knew better.”
Alfie muttered something in Spanish then said, “Guess I was distracted.”
“By what?” Rhys grabbed an ice pack and a holder to put it in that could strap around even an awkward joint. The wrist was a fairly simple one, but he was no stranger to injuries that could be hard to hold ice on.
“No sé.” Alfie wouldn’t look at Rhys.
Oh, he knew. He definitely knew. He just wasn’t telling Rhys, apparently. Whatever. It was fine. He handed the ice pack to Alfie and let him velcro it around his own wrist as Rhys went back to the kitchen. He didn’t know what he was doing. Only that he needed something to keep him busy.
He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He really liked Mel. It didn’t feel like he had to pretend to be okay when he was with them. Like he sometimes felt he had to even around Alfie, like if he saw how much it hurt when Alfie walked away, he’d stay away for good.
Yet, Rhys could not stay away, even when he had someone else in his life. What kind of asshole did that make him?
Alfie was there, putting a hand on his back.
Not the injured one, since Rhys couldn’t feel the cold from the ice pack through his shirt.
“You should be sitting.” Rhys’s throat felt thick.
Why did Alfie have to be standing so close?
If he didn’t want anything from Rhys, he should at least give him room to breathe. “Let the ice do its job.”
“I am not standing on my hands. It will be fine. Are you going to tell me what is wrong?”
“Nothing,” Rhys said sharply. Probably too sharply to be believed, but whatever. It’s not like Alfie actually wanted to talk to him. If so, he’d had days to do so. “I don’t know why you’d ask me that. Nothing is ever wrong.” He needed fucking space.
He didn’t move.
“That is not true.” Alfie’s breath whispered over the back of Rhys’s neck. “You just act as if that is the case, but it does not make it reality.”
Rhys closed his eyes. “Fake it until you make it, right?”
“You do not have to fake anything with me. I thought you would know that.”
Rhys did turn toward Alfie. “Except for how it doesn’t hurt every time you turn away from me?”
“Is that why you turned to them?”
Rhys stared at Alfie. “Turned to them? You think I’m using Mel because you don’t actually want me?”
“Who said I do not want you? I want you all the time. It does not mean it is a good idea.”
“Why? Because you think I will jump from your bed to someone else’s? Just because I enjoy casual sex does not mean I cannot be faithful.”
Alfie took a step toward him. “Have you ever been in a relationship for longer than a week?”