Page 28 of Just for Me
Hayden eyed the plate. “I don’t eat bread. And, yes, it was in my freezer, and I may also have had pizza last night. We’re glossing over that unfortunate episode. A moment of weakness.”
Luke set the plate down on the bedside table. “It’s Vogel’s soy and linseed, not a French pastry. Six grams of protein, heaps of fiber, the good kind of carbs, and no added sugar or preservatives. I’d eat it every day and twice on Sunday if I could get it, and I’m about as careful of my diet as it’s possible to be. Also, you didn’t get much out of that dinner.”
“Sausage roll, though,” Hayden said, but Luke could tell he was weakening.
“Doubt the sausage roll stuck, either,” Luke said. “I saw how much came out.”
Hayden groaned and sat on the bed again. “Thanks for reminding me. I needed that.” The cat jumped into his lap again, and he clutched it and kept on looking white and exhausted.
“Get in there,” Luke said.
Hayden tried to glare at him. It didn’t work. “If I’d wanted somebody to boss me around, I’d have invited Rhys over.”
“Yeh, well, you didn’t,” Luke said. “You invited me.”
“Not exactly,” Hayden said. “As I recall, you invited yourself.”
Luke sighed. “Get in bed. Eat your eggs. Turf me out in the morning, if you like, once you tell somebody else that you’ve had a TBI, so I don’t have to worry about you dying alone.”
Hayden got himself under the duvet, but of course, he had one more parting shot. “Who knew that the hot rugby player of my dreams would be so bloody maternal?” He picked up his mug of tea, which was at least a start, and the cat crawled onto his stomach, curled up, and got stuck into purring like he was motorized.
“That’s not maternal,” Luke said. “That’s the daddy of your dreams.”
“Fine,” Hayden muttered. “Be irresistible. If I ask you to sleep with me, can it be because I find you sexually enticing, not because I want somebody policing how much of my eggs and toast I eat?”
Luke smiled. One of the weirdest days of his life, and it kept taking yet another odd turn. All the same, it was better than most any day he’d had for months. “You need a cuddle?”
“Yes,” Hayden said. “All right? Bloodyyes.”
“Then that,” Luke said, “is what you’ll get.”
12
HE TOA TAUMATA RAO
So it hadn’t been exactlythe way Hayden had imagined his first few days would go with a man too good to be true.
It had been better.
Weirdly.
He hadn’t done any more vomiting, for one thing. Always a plus. He’d fallen asleep surprisingly fast despite his headache, with the aid of a few Panadol. And, it must be confessed, with the aid of a bulky man in bed beside him, dressed in boxer briefs and T-shirt, whose body radiated more warmth than any beach.
First, though, Luke had given him the Panadol and told him to drink a glass of water. Hayden had objected, but only because he’d felt it was required. He’d been dozing even while Luke was in the shower, and once he’d come out, all thick thighs, chest, and biceps, and crawled in beside Hayden?
Yes, he’d fallen asleep. A waste of their first night, or the best first night ever. Hard to decide.
When he woke, Luke wasn’t in bed, and neither was George. On the other hand, there was a lovely smell of bacon frying. Hayden thought,I should get up. It’s probably late. Also, I don’t have bacon. How can I be smelling it?But then he fell asleep again.
He woke to the pressure of somebody else on the bed. George, who’d jumped onto his chest and butted his head up under his chin, but somebody else, too. Luke, sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in rugby shorts and a different T-shirt—a navy-blue one with the Adidas logo, exactly the same sort of thing Rhys wore, probably because he’d got it for free—saying, “Want to get up, or have breakfast in bed?”
“Now that,” Hayden said, “is what you’d call a hard question. I want to get up, or I should. What time is it?”
“Nine, about there,” Luke said.
“Nine?”Hayden sat up too fast and had to hold his head. “I need to phone the office.”
“Go on and do it, then,” Luke said. “And then have breakfast.”
