Page 96 of The Question of Us
The second he clocked Lee and Aaron at the table he detoured our direction and took a seat at the table.
“You want coffee?” Mads called out to him from the pantry.
“Thanks,” Gazza answered, then looked to Lee. “How you guys doing?”
Lee shrugged and pushed his chair back. “We’re fine. Thought we might go visit Shirley today.” He stood and walked his plate to the dishwasher.
Gazza watched his retreat with greedy eyes and I shook my head. The unresolved sexual tension between those two felt off the charts, but if anyone knew what the fuck was going on, it sure as hell wasn’t me.
“Sounds a plan,” Gazza said, adding warily, “You want some company?”
The hesitation on Lee’s face was there and gone in an instant, but Gazza caught it all the same, his smile disappearing.
“Nah, we’re fine,” Lee answered. “But thanks for the offer.”
Mads brought his coffee to the table, looked between the two men, and sent me an eye roll.
“You’ve got mail.” Gazza slapped a couple of letters on the table, one of which was a redirection from my old address.
I frowned at the unfamiliar flowery handwriting. “Who the hell writes letters these days?”
Mads nudged me. “Why don’t you open it and find out?”
“While you do that, I um, I think I better head out to the studio.” He shot Lee an unreadable look. “I wouldn’t want to hold you up.”
Lee winced. “You’re not?—”
“I have a lot of work to catch up on,” Gazza cut him off. Then he stood and clapped Aaron on the shoulder. “Have a good visit with Shirley.”
The young man nodded. “Thanks, Gaz. Catch up later for some Witcher maybe?”
Gazza smiled at Aaron’s nickname and retrieved his satchel from the floor. “Absolutely. But maybe you could go easy on this old dude for a bit and help me out of that damn bog I’m stuck in.”
Aaron’s mouth turned up in a rare grin. “I’ll consider it.”
Standing at the sink. Lee wore a fond, almost affectionate expression. And when Gazza headed through the lounge for the studio, Lee tracked the man’s every step. I was done trying to figure those two out.
Clearly of the same opinion, Mads leaned in and whispered, “What is it with young people these days? None of them use their damn words.”
I snorted and kissed him on the cheek. “Not just young guys, right?”
A red stain crept up Mads’ neck. “Yeah, okay. Point taken. I love you. I love you. I love you. Happy now?”
I grinned. “Ecstatic.”
“Good, now open that letter. You’ve got me curious.”
“Me too.” Lee retook his chair at the table.
“Oh, wonderful,” I said sourly. “An audience. Just what I need as I open a letter from my secret lover.”
Mads almost choked. “Like you could cope with asecretlover. You can barely handle the complexities of thepublicone you already have.”
He had a point.
I opened the envelope and frowned at the folded, wrinkled pages. It was as if the author had decided to write it and then tossed it away before changing their mind. Curiosity piqued, and with a niggling sense of unease, I smoothed the sheets and began to read.
At the opening words, my heart dropped into my stomach.
