Page 144 of For Real

“It seems unlikely, darling. You were far too young and very rude.”

“Must have been my magnificent grounds at Pemberley, then. Oh God…” His laughter vanished swiftly, and I regretted it, the shadows settling in his eyes afresh. “Laurie, are you sure? Like really sure? You’ve seen…well…you’ve seen my life. Is this honestly what you want?”

“I want you. Who you are. Not what you do or don’t do.”

He made a soft sound, almost a sob, and the relief in it pierced me with fresh guilt. But then he twisted his fingers possessively in my hair and mumbled, “Thank you,” and happiness swept through me like summer heat.

“For what?” I couldn’t resist asking.

He laughed, but when he spoke, his voice was steady, his expression utterly serious. “For getting me.”

It was becoming uncomfortable on the floor, whatever the pleasures of being entangled with Toby. I made him stand and tugged him over to the bed with me. Even that small parting seemed to unsettle him, and as soon as we were seated, he curled into my side with a muffled sigh.

“But, Toby?”

A very small voice: “Yes?”

“You have to talk to me. You have to trust me.”

“Isn’t that my line?”

“Not anymore.” I turned him gently. Wiped his tears and brushed the hair out of his eyes. “I mean it. You’ll never have to wait for me again. And when I ask about your life, I’m not trying to be your parent or your friend or your careers advisor. I’m asking as your…boyfriend, lover, partner, the man who wants to be fucking you, the man who loves you.”

“I just thought you wouldn’t want to be any of those things if you knew what a mess I’d made of everything.”

Some part of me was faintly irritated that some part of him thought I was such an utter monster. But then I had spent the last three months finding any excuse to push him away and hold him at bay, so perhaps I deserved it. And it was something I could only heal with time, with devotion, with unfettered love. For now, I kissed the damp tip of his nose. “That’s because you’re an idiot.”

He scowled, but his eyes betrayed him. There was amusement there and hope. And after a moment, he pushed me onto my back, climbed on top, and kissed me so hard he ground my lips against my teeth. But I didn’t care. The pain was beautiful, welcome, because it came from Toby. And we kissed for a long time, deeply and far too intimately on his childhood bed.

Afterwards he tucked his head against my shoulder again. “Um…Laurie…?”

“Yes?”

“You know that stuff you were saying about it being okay to be lost?” He tilted his face up to mine, his eyes as wide and blue as the sky beyond his window. “Did you mean it? You’ll really help me figure this shit out?”

“I promise.”

“Like…you really want to do that with me?”

“Yes. I want everything.”

For some reason that made him smile. “Even the rubbish stuff?”

“Everything.” I kicked his ankle gently. “But no more of that. That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about.”

He rolled onto his stomach, watching me lazily from beneath his lashes. “Good point. Someone as awesome as you would never date someone rubbish.”

“You said it, Junior.”

We lay for a while in each other’s arms, warm and quiet, and I came perilously close to falling asleep. Which, in turn, reminded me of something I had meant to ask. “Where were you last night?”

“Oh…uh. I kind of went to the hospice.”

“You what?”

“I know. It was daft.” He sighed. “But at least I picked up some of Granddad’s stuff. I mean, before I threw it all over the floor.”

“Sorry. I take it you didn’t expect to find me here?”

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