Page 76 of That One Moment

“I know you’re working on that design for Mrs Cuthbert’s holiday home.” Hank fiddles with the coffee machine and gets it working, and soon enough the kitchen is filled with the aroma of my much needed morning brew.

I nod. “And I have the pricing to do for the Starline Hotel’s water feature,” I remind him.

“We’ll get Gabriella to do that,” he says referring to his daughter who works admin here a few days a week. “I’ve hadsomething come up that I think you’ll love. Maybe it’ll make your day better.”

Hank hands me a mug of black coffee which I take gratefully, blowing on it before sipping. I can already feel the tension from earlier starting to drain from my shoulders. Hank goes on to tell me about a job that’s come in at a retirement village on the outskirts of Richmond Park. He wants me to go down there next week, find out exactly what they want and draw up the plans.

When I first started working for a landscaper back in Devon, during the summer I turned sixteen, I’d been doing small manual labour jobs and teaching myself the design elements on the side. I could have studied further - it would have opened up more prospects for me to have a degree, but I chose not to. There’s still time if I wanted to pursue a career as a chartered landscape architect but, I’m happy as I am.

I think of Jamie and how excited he used to be about his future career. It didn’t go unnoticed back then that we had similar interests in careers. Not for the first time, I hope he finds that same level of joy in something again. I’ve stopped equating the things we do with what I think Cooper will have wanted for us because there’s no way to know. However, I’m certain he’d have been sad to know how much Jamie lost when he died.

“What do you think?” Hank asks, and I realise I’ve been staring at him with my mug pressed to my lips.

“Sounds good. I’ll head there Monday morning.” He pats me on the shoulder and heads to his office.

Gabriella comes in an hour or so later, turns the music up really loud as she always does - her and Jamie would get on well - and I bury myself in work. At some point my computer crashes, losing the file I was working on and the wheel on my chair gives in.

I would laugh at the series of events if I wasn’t so fucking annoyed and sure that this is the worlds way of telling me I’vebeen a really shitty boyfriend. Taking out my phone, I pull up the message thread with Jamie.

Me:I’m sorry

When he doesn’t reply, despite the message being delivered, I hang my head and stare at the design laid out over my desk before asking Hank if it’s okay if I shoot off early. It’s only an hour before my usual end time but I’ve had enough of this shitshow of a day.

When I walk in, the flat is quiet and Jamie is sitting in the lounge staring at his phone. Ford, who usually greets me when I get home, takes one look at me and bounds down the hallway towards our bedroom. I don’t blame him, I feel like I’ve been walking around with a dark cloud over my head all day. The ironic part is, it’s Cooper I keep thinking about and how badly I want to talk to him about everything, despite my issue being with his boyfriend or ex-boyfriend, I guess. I never fail to forget that they didn’t actually break up. Death pulled them apart and I don’t think that’s the same thing.

“You didn’t text me back,” I say when Jamie sees me. He gets up and takes slow steps across the room. “I was trying to apologise but you ignored me.” I throw my keys and wallet onto the side table with a little more force than necessary.

“You weren’t exactly nice to me this morning,” he says, and oh God, is he pouting? I take a step closer and yep, the guy is pouting. He’s frustrating and stunning and I want to kiss the stupid pout from his lips but then I remember I’m really fucking annoyed with him. Jamie’s next words make it clear he’s equally as annoyed. “You ran off, which you always do,” he continues. “We can’t do that - we can’t have a heated discussion and then one of us leaves. That’s not how adults communicate andhonestly, Caiden, I’m tired of it.” His pout is gone, replaced by a stern expression. He’s not wrong. Jamie and I are good with talking with our bodies but not with our words.

I close the gap in two steps. “You’re right. I should have stayed and hashed it out. I’m sorry I walked away, but you’re not blameless in all this.” I throw my hands in the air, my voice rising an octave, the exasperation in it crystal clear. “I’m scared you’re going to end up resenting me for coming here, and I’m sorry I’m pushy. Silly me for wanting my boyfriend to be happy.” My hand lands on his chest. “I hate seeing you sit around doing nothing. You wanted me to take better care of myself, and I want the same for you.”

The blank expression he was wearing seconds ago morphs into a goofy, lopsided grin.

“Boyfriend?”

Of course that’s all he took from those last few minutes.

“Don’t act surprised. We live together, sleep together, and are frustratingly co-dependent. That makes us boyfriends.”

His eyes gleam and his grin grows, turning into a deviant smirk. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m trying to be mad at you,” I retort. And isn’t that the story of my life? I’ve never been good at holding on to my anger where Jamie’s concerned.

“Jamie.” I say his name with mock warning.

“Caiden,” he replies seconds before he slams his lips to mine, engulfing me in a searing kiss that’s all tongue and teeth and hunger. “Boyfriend,” he mumbles against my lips.

“You make me so fucking angry,” I pant, his hands finding the hem of my top and pulling it over my head.

“Like you don’t do the same to me, sunshine.” He bites my bottom lip while undoing my cargo trousers and walking me backwards towards the lounge. I strip him of his clothes between hungry kisses and by the time he’s thrown himself down onto the sofa, we’re both naked. “I’m simply better at handling your shit,”he muses, spreading his legs wide and sliding down the sofa so he’s the picture of relaxed.

“Sometimes I forget what an asshole you can be,” I say, moving to stand between his splayed legs. He’s stroking his cock leisurely, a bead of precum gathering on the flushed tip. My own cock stands hard and full, as he watches me intently and I give it three gentle strokes, enjoying the way the slow movements cause my blood to simmer.

“You love it when I’m an asshole,” he says, a smug as shit smirk on his face. Correct, I do, even if I haven’t said the words yet. I love him despite the times he makes me mad enough to see red. “Now, be a good boy for me. Suck it or ride it.” He gives a few more tugs on his cock, and I lick my lips but shake my head.

“Oh no, I think we need to sit and talk first. Communicate, remember?” Stepping away, I stroke my cock a few times and watch as his eyes narrow. I fake an overly theatrical groan and tip my head back.

“After. Now, get your ass over here, before I chase you down and tie you to our bed,” he warns and the image that comes to mind has a real groan passing my lips. I take a tube of lube from the side table and throw it next to Jamie, then I climb over him, straddling his thighs.

Because he’s half lying on the sofa, when I press up on my knees, my cock is in line with his face. Gripping Jamie’s hair tightly in one hand, I tug his head back as far as it can go against the cushion. His Adam’s apple protrudes and bobs as his pupils blow wide.

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