Page 22 of Just for Me
Hayden let out his breath. “You cannot imagine how much I want to do that.”
Luke smiled. “Let me run up for a hoodie, then. Bring you one as well? It’ll be cooling off a bit, down by the water.”
“Yes,” Hayden said. “Please.”
“Five minutes,” Luke promised, went inside, and strode toward the lifts.
Hayden wouldn’t go in, he decided. More consistent messaging.If you want to be special to somebody,feellike you’re special.Actlike you’re special.
Of course, Luke was only here until Christmas, and then he was leaving. ForFrance.Where he lived. What was that, twenty thousand kilometers? The only rational choice was to grab this good thing right here, right now, to soothe his aches and try to soothe Luke’s. If he was so breakable that he couldn’t even manage short-term anymore, if he was going to weep and play Sam Smith songs on repeat when Luke left, he reallywasgoing to end up alone with George.
But it felt wrong. That was all. It felt wrong, and he didn’t want to rush. He wanted to savor. He wanted to be desired, not as a distraction for tonight, but for himself. He wanted to want it so much that he felt like he couldn’t wait, and he wanted to wait anyway.
So he waited amongst the late-evening strollers. Hands in the pockets of his dress trousers, scuffing absently at a rough edge of the red-brick footpath with his shoe, trying not to anticipate, and failing.
“Oh, bloody hell.” The voice came from behind him, and Hayden stiffened. Not Julian’s voice this time. Trevor’s.
Hayden didn’t want to turn. He turned anyway. It was the two of them, each with two heavy carrier bags. Coming back from doing a shop at Countdown, obviously. Cozy. Domestic.
He thought about saying, “Hi,” but he didn’t. He just stood there. For once, he wasn’t going to try to deescalate. He was just going to wait and see what developed.
He did take his hands out of his pockets, though, in case something happened. They looked like something was going to happen.
Not that he’d be much chop at fighting, whatever he’d told Julian. He’d be rubbish at fighting, he was fairly sure. He’d never even tried. He was pretty good at running away, but he didn’t feel like exercising that talent tonight, so it might be fighting anyway. Kicking, he reckoned. Grabbing the other fella and pulling him close so he couldn’t land a hard blow. And, when necessary, curling up on the ground with his hands over his head. That, he definitely knew how to do.
Julian said, “That’s it. I’m calling the police.” And then just stood there, because his hands were full of grocery bags. Finally, he set them down, upon which they promptly fell over and spilled out mandarins and potatoes and avocadoes, a bunch of bananas sliding out with them. The rounder fruit and veg rolled all over, and Hayden wanted to laugh, and also considered whether you could do any damage by hitting somebody with a potato. Alas, probably not.
Julian ignored the rolling veg, clearly going for an “I meant to do that” vibe, and, yes, he was pulling his phone from his pocket.
A fella walked by, looking at his own phone, and stepped on the avocado. He stumbled, swore, scraped his shoe, covered with green goo, against the bricks, and said, “You may want to pick those up.”
Everybody ignored him.
Trevor said, “We shouldn’t call the cops. We should kick his arse instead.”
“Oh?” Hayden asked. “Have you learnt to do that, then? I heard I scared you. And as I’d hardly scare a twelve-year-old girl …”
Yes, Trevor was advancing, his fists balled up, and Hayden thought,Right. Kicking’s going to have to do it, because I have no idea how to punch.Meanwhile, Julian was talking urgently into the phone. Something about a stalker, and a threat.
Which was when Luke came out of the double doors.
9
RUINING THE CASHMERE JUMPER
A few thingshappened after that.
Trevor took a swing at Hayden, aiming straight at his nose, and Hayden somehow managed to twist away so the blow landed on the side of his head. Whichhurt.He staggered, and then did what he’d thought of before, which was still the only thing he could think of. He stepped into Trevor and grabbed him by the shoulder. Or, actually, by the jumper.Cashmere,he thought.So soft,even as his head rang and pulsed with pain. Trevor pushed back and tried to wrench away, then slapped Hayden across the face, which hurtmore,while Hayden hung on for dear life, because it was, yes, still all he could think to do.
They staggered around together like that, and Julian said, “What the hell. Do stop, Trevor. The police are coming. Let them handle it.”
Trevor didn’t answer. That was because he was levitating backward.Thatwas because Luke had grabbed him by the back of the jumper and was literally holding him up off his feet. Trevor’s legs were kicking, and he was yelling. Something like, “Get the fuck off me!”
Which was when Julian dashed in, grabbed thefrontof Trevor’s jumper, and then stepped on a potato. Agrias, they were, unfortunately extremely oval. Julian’s leg went out from under him, he yelped, and Luke let go of Trevor’s jumper and stepped back.
It was like a ballet, if the dancers were extremely clumsy and the choreographer was rubbish. Julian’s arm flailed, he let go of Trevor’s jumper, hisotherarm flailed, and he stepped on the bunch of bananas with the leg that wasn’t already in the air. The bananas squished, his foot slipped, his entire body twisted, Trevor grabbed for him, and the two of them went down together, bang-crash, straight onto the pavement in a pile of assorted fruit and veg.
Hayden said, “Pity you never … thought of another reason I’d be lurking. And that the reason can beat both of you at once.” And laughed. Possibly hysterically. Also held his head and thought,I was in a fight. I fought.
