“Fuck, that was good.” Fizzing all over with the aftereffects of the world’s best orgasm, Dev rolled off Kyle’s fucking awesome body and lay down beside him. He cuddled up to Kyle’s side, but the bloke was oddly unresponsive. “Kyle?”
No answer. Dev pushed himself up onto one elbow.
Shit. Kyle was just lying there. Dev was hit with a horrible, sick, cold dread that it’d happened ten minutes ago and he’d just carried on shagging the poor sod without noticing—but no, that was bollocks. Kyle had been talking and everything. Thank fuck. Dev almost collapsed with the flood of relief.
He pressed a kiss to Kyle’s cheek and lay down next to him again, wondering if he could sling an arm over Kyle’s chest. Granted, Kyle wasn’t in a position to give consent, but Dev was ready to go out on a limb and say he probably wouldn’t mind a bit of a cuddle.
Then again, it wouldn’t kill him to wait until he could ask the bloke, would it?
Well . . .
No, it wouldn’t. Dev grabbed a handful of tissues from the box by the bed and wiped himself off, hesitated, then told himself no one would mind not being left covered in jizz. He wiped Kyle down gently, chucked the tissues in the bin across the room (he scores!), and lay down again, next to Kyle but not touching him.
It was good to get a chance just to look at him. For an ill bloke, he was well fit, with powerful shoulders. Nearly as hairy as Dev himself was, which Dev liked. He’d never seen the point of manscaping—seriously, who the hell wanted stubble burn there?
No tatts that Dev could see, but Kyle wasn’t really the sort, was he?
It was harder than he’d thought, lying so close and not touching him. Dev grinned to himself. Just as well they’d already shagged, or it’d be even harder, pun very much intended.
Dev was dozing off himself when Kyle stirred. He blinked himself awake. “You all right, mate?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t sound all right. “Hey, no worries. You didn’t freak me out or nothing. And I swear I didn’t lay a finger on you while you were out. Didn’t even grab a cuddle. Wouldn’t mind one now, though,” Dev added.
Kyle didn’t say anything. After a minute, Dev decided it was up to him to make a move. Making it slow, he rolled over and snuggled up to Kyle’s side, putting his head on Kyle’s chest.
There was a horrible moment when he thought he’d got it wrong, but then Kyle’s arms wrapped around him and squeezed convulsively.
“Yeah. That’s better.” Dev let out a slow, relieved breath.
There was silence for a while, until Dev’s thoughts got too loud, and he had to voice them. “Would you have minded if I’d cuddled you while you were . . . You know. Out of things?”
“I . . . Yes. Sorry. I don’t like being touched while I’m helpless. Not unless it’s necessary.”
Dev didn’t like the sound of that. “Did . . . Did something bad happen to you one time while you were . . . uh . . . cataplexed?”
“No. I just hate the feeling of being helpless while someone else’s hands are on me.”
Dev’s stomach lurched. “Wait, what? You can feel it? You mean you’re, like, conscious while it’s happening? Christ, you mean that time on the cliff, when I was faffing around trying to make sure you were still breathing and all, you were awake for that? You knew what was happening? Shit, bruv, that fucking blows.” God, he’d pulled the poor bastard’s mouth open. “Mate, I’m sorry, yeah?”
“You didn’t know.” Kyle’s shoulder twitched. “You were trying to help.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, though? When you said you might have an attack when we, you know.” Dev gestured down at their naked, sweaty bodies. Huh, and still streaked with spunk. He’d missed a bit. It was all dried on now. That was well gross.
“I . . .” Kyle shut his eyes, but he opened them again a moment later so he probably hadn’t fallen asleep. He gave that sad, twisted smile of his. “Some people find it off-putting. To have me lying there like one of the undead.”
Anger spiked in Dev’s chest. Kyle sounded like he was quoting something some arse-wiping bastard had said to him. “They’re tossers, then.” Christ, he must mean that partner of his. The one who’d buggered off and left him to deal with all this on his own. “So, next time it happens, is there stuff I should do different? I mean, yeah, not touch you. Got that. But . . . do you want me to talk to you? Uh, play YouTube videos or something?”
Kyle frowned. “You don’t have to do anything. I just have to wait for it to be over.”
“Sure? If there’s something that makes it better for you, I wanna do it, all right?” Kyle didn’t say anything, but he was stroking Dev’s back, so he probably wasn’t pissed off with him for banging on about it. “So what else causes the attacks? Sex, yeah, and laughing—anything else?”
He’d done some reading, but it was a lot to take in all at once and anyway, the websites said everyone was different.
“Shock,” Kyle said softly. “Any sudden strong emotion. Anger, sometimes, but usually it comes on gradually enough I’m okay. Trying too hard to resist falling asleep.”
That made sense, then, that he’d had a nap up by the Round Hole. But— “Shit, what about last night? I didn’t make you have one then, did I?” Dev was amazed Kyle was even still talking to him.
“No. No, not last night.”
That was one thing to be thankful for, at least. Christ, how bad would Dev have felt knowing he’d left Kyle lying on his own living room floor, all because of Dev starting a stupid argument when he’d thought he knew better than Kyle did?
“Do you take stuff for it? I was reading about this drug, Zy-something? Some bloke online was saying it was brilliant—nearly stopped him having attacks altogether.”
“Xyrem. No.” There was a heavy pause. “The specialist wanted me to try other options first. It’s . . . You do know what Xyrem is, don’t you? GHB. Liquid ecstasy. Easy Lay.”
“You’re shitting me. Seriously?” Mal had got in with a crowd that was doing that crap once. He’d been sick as a dog. Dev had nearly decked him when he’d found out what he’d done—Christ, people used that shit for date rapes. “And you can get it on the NHS?”
“Not if they can help it, no.”
“So what’s the other options?”
“Stimulants. Antidepressants. Amphetamines.” His tone was bitter. “I told her I’d let her know.”
“Fuck me.” Dev thought about it. “But it’d be different if you weren’t, like, taking them to get high, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe.” Kyle closed his eyes.
“Oi, stay with me, mate.” Dev hesitated, then kissed him. Kyle’s eyes sprang open, and Dev grinned. “There you go. Hey, you know what, I could bloody murder a cuppa.”
“The sex wasn’t enough, you have to have tea as well?” Kyle muttered, but he swung himself out of bed, treated Dev to an awesome view of his arse, back, and legs as he stretched, and then padded out of the room still naked.
Dev heard soft footsteps going down the stairs. He was half tempted to follow, but laziness won out. He lay back for a minute or two, checking out the room, but soon got bored looking at neutral-coloured walls, bland artwork, and the general lack of personality that reminded him this wasn’t really Kyle’s home.
He wondered what the place in Surrey was like. And if that git of an ex was still infesting it. That wasn’t getting him anywhere, though, so he had a look at the stack of books on the bedside table. Huh. Fond of his classic murder mysteries, Kyle was. Out of the six books, only one had been published after 1945 and nearly all of them had something like death in the title. The other one had the word mishap, and Dev would’ve bet his bike he knew what that was a euphemism for.
Maybe Kyle was missing his job too.
About to have a nose in the drawers to see if he could find a remote for the small telly mounted on the wall, hotel-room style, Dev was interrupted by Kyle coming back, mugs in hand.
Still naked. “I love the service round here,” Dev said, reaching up to take one of the mugs.
“Be sure to leave me a good review on TripAdvisor.” Kyle sat down on the edge of the bed, facing him.
“Not a chance. I’m keeping this all for me, I am. Christ, that hits the spot,” Dev added after he’d taken a sip of tea.
“And you were on at me for being stereotypically British, earlier. Sure you don’t want a scone with that?”
“Yeah, no. Any more of the pasta-and-scones diet and I’ll never get me jeans back on.”
Kyle gave him a look that, if Dev had been the sort to blush, would definitely have done the trick. “I can think of worse things.”
“Oh yeah? Bit of a chubby chaser, are you?”
“You got me. I’m only into you for the embonpoint.”
“The what now?”
“The love handles. The spare tyre. The Buddha belly—” Kyle scooted back on the bed, his smile wider than Dev had ever seen it, as Dev threatened him with a pillow, and they both nearly spilled their tea.
“Oi, shut it. There ain’t an ounce of fat on me.” Dev worked bloody hard down the gym to keep it that way. He gave Kyle a once-over. “Course, you’re not bad yourself. Runner?”
“I used to be. It’s . . . more difficult these days.”
“Yeah, s’pose if you’re knackered anyway the last thing you wanna do is pull on your trainers and run a marathon.” Dev put his mug down on the bedside table and reached for Kyle. “Course, there’s other ways of burning up calories . . .”
Kyle looked at him. “Seriously? Already?”
Dev laughed. “Nah, maybe not. But I wouldn’t mind a bit of a cuddle. Come here.”
They snuggled up together, lying on top of the covers as their combined body heat was plenty, especially with the late-afternoon sun streaming in the window. Kyle grabbed the remote from under the bed and switched on the telly to some American tennis tournament, which Dev wasn’t particularly into but was happy to watch, so long as he had Kyle’s arms around him.
It’d been a bloody good day, he realised—sightseeing in the morning, a tasty lunch in a decent restaurant, and then sex and sport, in that order. Like a proper holiday.
Trouble was, once he’d thought that, he couldn’t get the real reason he was here out of his head. Maybe he tensed up, or sighed, or something, as Kyle—who hadn’t even dozed off or nothing, which was flattering—gave him a look. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah . . . Just, you know. Thinking about my mum.”
Kyle stroked his hair. Dev could get used to that. “Are you planning to go to see her soon?”
“Yeah. Yeah, guess so. Bit daft putting it off, innit? No point going up there on my last day and saying, ‘Hi, Mum, sorry, gotta go home now,’ is there?” He let out a breath. “Course, that’s if she’s home anyway. Be just my sodding luck to pick the one time to come here when she’s, I dunno, taken a month off to go trekking in the Himalayas or some shit.”
“Doubt it,” Kyle said, his fingers still running through Dev’s hair. Soothing him. “People in their forties tend to have got all that sort of thing out of their system already. Do you know what she does for a living?” he went on.
“Yeah.” It came out a bit squeaky. Dev coughed. “Yeah. Found out on the internet. She’s a financial advisor. Tells rich people how to get richer. At least, the website didn’t look like it was aimed at old grannies trying to make their pensions reach. It was all on about portfolios and wealth management and all that bollocks.”
Kyle shrugged. Dev felt the movement more than he saw it. “It’s probably intended to impress the potential customer.”
“Well, it worked on me.” Dev fell silent. He didn’t want to say what he was thinking—what if his mum was disappointed he was just a mechanic? He hadn’t even been to university.
Maybe one of the side effects of narcolepsy was being able to read minds, ’cos Kyle’s arms tightened around him. He didn’t say anything, though, which Dev was glad about. “They had a picture of her up on the website,” he said to break the silence. “She looked nice.”
She looked . . . Well. Like a successful financial advisor, he supposed. She looked too young to be his mum, but he’d checked her age out. Maybe it was an old picture. “She was just a kid when she had me. Sixteen.”
“God.”
“Yeah. Don’t expect it, do you? Coming from a family like that.”
“The middle classes aren’t exempt from mistakes.” He added under his breath, “God knows I’ve made plenty.”
Dev pulled back and looked at him. “You better not be counting me as one of ’em.”
“No. Of course not.”
Dev would’ve liked it to sound a bit more heartfelt, but whatever. “Best mistake you ever made, I am,” he said, snuggling back down. “Hey, if I hang around long enough, are you gonna cook me dinner?” he asked after a while, making it sound like a joke even though he was dead serious.
He didn’t want to have to leave, to go and find somewhere to eat on his own. He wanted to stay here. With Kyle.
“Thought you said I didn’t have to keep feeding you?”
“Yeah, but that was before you had a reason to want me to keep me strength up. So, you gonna? Promise I’ll help chop stuff.”
Kyle took a deep breath. “You can’t stay the night.”
Okay, that was direct. “Yeah. Fine. Whatever.” Dev had a feeling he might not have managed to keep all the hurt out of his voice.
There was a frustrated sound from Kyle’s direction. “I didn’t mean . . . I don’t sleep. Not well, and not for long. I get . . . dreams. A lot. Mostly nightmares. And there’s the sleep paralysis. Sharing a bed with me for a whole night is not generally a pleasant experience.”
“That what that ex of yours told you?”
“Nobody had to tell me.”
Dev bit back a knee-jerk comment, ’cos assuming Kyle didn’t know what he was talking about was what got him in trouble last night, wasn’t it? “Got a spare room, ain’tcha?”
Kyle looked at him. “Why would you . . .?”
“So I can sneak back in here for a shag first thing, innit? Duh. And mate, seriously, you gotta save me from the B&B breakfast. I’m gonna be the size of a house by the end of three weeks.”
Dev could tell the moment Kyle gave in. His face sort of softened and relaxed.
“All right, then,” Kyle said. “If only to save the country’s obesity statistics from getting out of hand.”
“Don’t forget all the hogs you’re saving from being made into pudding. It’s a public service.” Dev stretched out in bed, then wrapped his arms back around Kyle. He felt fucking fantastic. On top of the world. Like he could do anything.
Maybe even . . .
He glanced at the clock—yeah, the time seemed about right—and took a deep breath. “Bit early, yet, to eat, though, innit? I was thinking maybe I’d go and see if my mum’s in. Get it over with, yeah? I mean, if she’s been working today, she’d probably be home by now, wouldn’t she?” Nerves jumped in his stomach. He told them to fuck off and die.
Kyle gave him a long, steady look before speaking. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Why not?” Dev didn’t mean it to come out so snappy, so he tried plastering on a smile to make it better.
Kyle didn’t seem convinced. “You could try contacting her by post or by email one more time. Even hand-deliver a letter to her door. Just explain that you’re in the area, and you’d like to meet.”
“What? Nah.” Dev looked away. “I mean, yeah, I get what you’re saying, but shit, I’ve only got three weeks. I wanna see her.”
He couldn’t face waiting and hoping. Not again. Not when he was so near he could almost touch her.
Kyle grasped his shoulder. “I’ll come with you, if you like.”
No. Christ, no. This was gonna be hard enough already, without anyone watching. And he just wanted to get on with it. If she was even there. “’S okay. Can I borrow your shower, though?” He didn’t want his mum’s first impression to be that he stank like a used jockstrap.
“Of course.” Kyle paused. “And you’re sure you won’t want company?”
“In the shower?” Dev grinned. “You could persuade me.”
“I meant, going up to Roscarrock House.”
Well, that was disappointing. Although on the other hand . . . No, shower sex with someone who collapsed when he came probably wasn’t the best idea Dev had ever had. “Yeah. Sure. Cheers, though.” Dev jumped out of bed, way too restless to stay even a moment longer, and padded to the bathroom.
The shower helped with the nerves—or at least, it did while he was under the hot water. As soon as he’d towelled off, though, the butterflies in his stomach came back with a vengeance, and they’d met up with some mates on their travels and brought them all back for a party. Dev’s hand slipped on the door handle as he came out of the bathroom, and he was glad to find Kyle was no longer there when he got back to the bedroom. He didn’t want a witness for him going to pieces like this.
Dev took a few deep, steadying breaths, then hunted out his clothes and pulled them back on.
He jogged downstairs to find Kyle in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. “Oi, I said I’d do that, didn’t I?”
“You’ve got more important things to do.”
Well, there was that. Plus, if Dev tried chopping anything right now, there was a real danger he’d end the evening minus several fingers. He jammed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Right. Well, I’ll see you back here, yeah? Dunno how long it’ll take. Five minutes, probably, if she’s not in. Well, ten, maybe. But more, yeah, if she’s . . . I mean, we got a lot to catch up on, yeah? I could text you, if you want, tell you I’m on my way? Or—no. Um.” By the time the words dried up, Dev’s mouth had dried up too.
Kyle gave him a steady look. “Just come and tell me how it went, whenever works for you.”
Dev nodded and grabbed one of Kyle’s handmade mugs. Not the greatest choice, seeing as he only just about managed not to chip it on the kitchen tap as he filled it with water. At least he didn’t throw any water down his front as he drank it. “Right. I’ll see you.”
“Good luck,” sounded after him as he walked out of the cottage.