Chapter 20

 

We spent a few blissful days at the house in France, making plans and getting to know each other – emotionally, physically and intimately. I knew it anyway from the first time we slept together, but Mason was an amazing lover. Sex was suddenly something incredibly hot and passionate, rather than perfunctory and mundane. I didn’t realise what I had been missing out on until Mason opened my eyes to new and exciting ways of making love. The first time he dropped to his knees in the middle of the day and took my dick in his mouth I had been mortified, knowing anyone could walk in and see us. Once he got to work with his tongue, I didn’t care. Let them watch. They should pay for the privilege of witnessing Mason’s impressive performance.

Mason, apparently, liked to give head. He didn’t care where we were or what hour of the day it was. Funnily enough, it turned out I quite liked to receive it too. It wasn’t like I walked about with my dick hanging out on a permanent basis, but I had to admit there were times when I cleverly engineered an encounter or two.

But, like all good things – as the old saying went – those happy, relaxed, sexy days had to come to an end. Mason left for New York and I flew home to London. Despite the fact I had the keys to Mason’s apartment in my pocket, I went back to Marcie and Killigan’s. It wouldn’t feel right staying above the club without him. Besides, my stuff was already at their house and it didn’t seem worth the effort of packing to go to Mason’s for a couple of days, packing again to go to my mother’s, and then packing yet again to go and join Mason in America.

We had agreed that while he reunited with the other members of Arcadia and rehearsed for the charity performance, I would return home to sort a few things out before flying to America. I had to tell the hospital I was not going back to work, for a start, about which I felt surprisingly calm. That resigning from my job was not giving me a panic attack was all the proof I needed that leaving was the right thing to do. I had to pay a visit to my mother and tell her in person that I was giving up everything to go on tour with a rock singer I had only met a few weeks ago. Facing my mother was a scarier prospect than telling the hospital I quit. She would probably be pleased to hear Rufus was out of the picture. Perhaps not so pleased to hear Mason had taken his place.

Initially, I had planned to sell my car once I had driven it to see my mother. Mason had heard from the garage while we were in France, and he had arranged for it to be dropped off at Killigan’s. It was on the driveway when I got back, not only fixed, but looking ten times better than it had before it was trashed. God only knows why, but I decided I would give it to Rufus. He needed it more than I did, although he’d have to find another mug to pay for the tax, insurance and petrol. It wasn’t that I felt I owed him anything, and knowing Rufus he wouldn’t even be grateful. Whatever had happened between us, I didn’t hate him. I wanted him to be okay and self-sufficient and having his own car would help.

Not that I was brave enough to deliver it to him personally. Killigan had agreed to take the car to Rufus once I left for New York. All the tears and tantrums in the world would be pointless if I was already gone. Rufus was well aware that Killigan was not his biggest fan. I doubted he would waste his energy kicking off in front of someone who didn’t give a shit.

I was sat at the dining room table, going through the paperwork, when my phone rang. Stefan’s name flashed up on the screen and I felt a slight pang of guilt. I hadn’t told him yet that I was going to America with Mason. He and Alex would be happy for me, I was sure, but Stefan was still close friends with Rufus. It still didn’t seem fair to put him in a position where he had to choose where his loyalties lay.

“Hi, Stefan.”

“Hey, Eric. I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Rufus, have you?”

“No, sorry. I haven’t spoken to him since we left yours.”

Immediately, my mind started racing. Stefan knew the situation between Rufus and I. He knew it was over so why would he think Rufus would be talking to me and not him? Stefan’s voice held an obvious note of concern and I began to worry myself. What if Rufus had gone clubbing and picked up the wrong guy? What if he was hurt? Lying unconscious somewhere?

“He’s called every day since you two split up,” Stefan admitted. He sounded a little guilty, and I really didn’t want things to be awkward between us. Truthfully, I was glad that his and Rufus’ friendship remained strong. It was a good thing that Rufus had someone who would look out for him. “I’ve tried calling him, but he’s not answering his phone.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” I said with a confidence I didn’t feel. “You know what Rufus is like. He’s probably still tucked up in bed with last night’s trick.”

“That’s what Alex said.” Stefan didn’t sound like he was inclined to believe either of us. “Can you call him, Eric? Or go round there? He might talk to you.”

“I’m not so sure.” I hated myself for my reluctance, but just because I didn’t hate Rufus and was giving him my car, it didn’t mean I was in any hurry to see him face to face. I would much rather slip away without any fuss or attention. “Especially if he’s with another guy.”

“I guess you’re right.” Stefan sighed. “Just call me if you hear from him, okay?”

I agreed, extracted a promise from Stefan that he would do the same if he spoke to Rufus first, and hung up the phone. Almost immediately it rang again. This time it was Rufus’ name on the screen and I frowned. Him calling me straight after Stefan was the kind of coincidence I didn’t believe in. Had they plotted together? Stefan phoning first to voice his concerns and worry me enough to make sure I answered Rufus’ call when it came?

“Rufus.” I kept my tone neutral.

“Hi, Eric. I was…um…wondering if you could come over for a bit.”

“I don’t know, Rufus.” I ran a hand over my eyes, and cursed my bad luck. Another couple of hours and I wouldn’t be here. I’d be cruising along the motorway toward my mother’s house and seeing Rufus wouldn’t even be an option. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Please. Just to talk. Nothing else, I promise.”

I detected a note of desperation in his voice, which was so totally out of character for Rufus that it made me think Stefan was right to be worried about him. Rufus didn’t know I was all set to leave with Mason, and if he did he would be angry and loud, not pleading with me in a small, tremulous voice.

“Maybe when I get back,” I offered heart-heartedly. “I’m literally on my way out of the door, Rufus. I going to see my mum, but I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

Back for all of one night before getting on a plane and leaving the country for at least the next twelve months, but I didn’t tell Rufus that. He was acting weird enough already, without me adding to it. I really didn’t want to hurt him, but I was not prepared to play his games any longer either.

“A couple of days!” Rufus’ dismay was palpable, even over the phone. “You can’t. You don’t understand…” He took a deep, shuddering breath as though he was trying not to cry. I knew from bitter experience that Rufus was not above using tears to get his own way, but if that was his intent, why would he try and hide them from me? “Please, Eric. Two days… I can’t…” His voice cracked, and this time there was a definite sob. “Can’t you come before you go to your mum’s? Please, Eric. Please.”

It was the final please that swayed me. Rufus hardly ever said please. He demanded and insisted. He threw diva style strops and got most indignant when he didn’t get what he wanted. He never begged.

“Fine,” I said, smothering a sigh. “I’ll call in before I set off to Mum’s, but I won’t be able to stay long, Rufus, so spare me the crocodile tears, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed with a watery sounding sniffle. “But can you come soon? Like now? It’s just—”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it, worry and confusion gnawing at my belly. What had he been about to say? And why hang up mid-sentence? Either there was something seriously wrong or Rufus really was playing me big time. Maybe he’d cut the call off deliberately so that I would panic and go rushing straight over there.

“You okay, Eric?” Killigan walked into the dining room, pulling his suit jacket on over a crisp white shirt. “You look a million miles away.”

“I thought you were at work.”

“I just had to pop home to get something. I’m heading straight back to the station now. So…” He pointed to my phone where I had laid it down on the table. “I’ll ask you again. Is everything okay?”

“I’m not sure. I just had a really weird phone call from Rufus.”

Killigan rolled his eyes. Now that Rufus and I had split up, he didn’t even pretend in front of me that he liked him. “What does he want now?”

“He asked to see me before I go to my mum’s house. He sounded upset.”

“Does he know about you and Mason?” Killigan asked, obviously thinking the same as I had done initially – that Rufus was up to his old tricks and prepared to do anything to stop me from leaving.

“I don’t blame you for thinking he’s playing games,” I said. “Trust me, I know what he’s like. He was crying though. He sounded scared. He begged me, for God’s sake. Since when does Rufus beg for anything?”

“Since he figured out you’re moving on without him,” Killigan said dryly. He suddenly looked unsure though, and I could practically see his policeman-brain going into overdrive. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“I thought you had to get back to work?”

“I do, but another half hour won’t hurt. I’ll just stick my head round the door and say hello to Rufus, see what’s going on with him.”

“No,” I sighed. “I’m sure there’s no need. This is Rufus being Rufus. Whatever he’s up to, I’m sure I can handle him.”

“Well, if you’re sure…”

Killigan sounded more relieved than he should have done that he didn’t have to come with me after all. It made me feel slightly sorry for Rufus, because he seemed to have a natural ability to drive people away. It was only since leaving him that I had come to learn Rufus was not particularly well liked by anyone much. My heart ached for him, because he could actually be a sweet guy when he dropped the bitchy-queen act.

“Call me if you need me,” Killigan said, heading for the door.

I promised I would and he left. I cleared the table of my paperwork before going upstairs to finish packing my overnight bag at a leisurely pace. By the time I left the house myself, it had been forty-five minutes since Rufus’ phone call. It didn’t matter, I told myself, climbing into my car. He could wait.