Chapter Fifteen
“Nice neighbourhood, this. Bordering SoHo and the financial district. All cobblestones. The historic warehouses have all been converted by the rush of developers to the area. Multimillion dollar lofts now. Gotta earn a few bucks to own one of these buildings.” The flat-capped NY cabbie rattled on as he swerved through the traffic and pointed out places of interest that the blatant tourist in the back obviously wanted to see. “Might even get a few celebrity sightings round here.”
Jay gave an apathetic nod in response. A couple of hours had passed since the game and Jay had managed to dodge the usual team camaraderie and the talk promised by Bruno back at the hotel in favour of leaping in the nearest taxi to take him to Seb’s place. He certainly wasn’t doing himself any favours with the squad, but they’d all turned a blind eye considering his earlier score sheet. And he had more touring with the team to come, so Bruno could wait to give him another third degree.
Chewing his bottom lip, Jay peered out of the window and the cab pulled into a lay-by. The Baynton apartment building appeared ever more magnificent in the dusk than it had during the early hours of the morning. Tall, glass-fronted, grand and foreboding, it sat wedged between the other luxury builds on the block. Jay shoved a wad of dollars into the open palm of the cabbie and stepped out. He didn’t need reminding how fucking great this place was. He’d thought about it the whole twenty-minute life-threatening journey over.
Apprehension coursed through him. This was New York. This was downtown New York. Don’t that song go, if you can’t make it here, you can’t make it anywhere? Shouldn’t this be the place where Seb tries to make it? He’d all but proven it today in that arena. Seb was a rising star. The whole of New York would soon see that performance on every media channel, and they would all want a bit of Sebastian Saunders.
Shaking his head, Jay attempted to dislodge the worrying thoughts. Seb had said he was willing to give this up. For him. It was both euphoric and terrifying. And even though the sun pelted down onto his pale skin, Jay’s arms pimpled with the fear and anxiety.
Stepping through the revolving doors and into the gleaming entrance of the building, Jay nodded in recognition to the bloke on duty by the elevators.
“Floor ten, please, mate.”
“Saunders or Coles?”
An expected pang of anger jolted through Jay’s entire body, like he’d just been punched in the gut. He clasped his fists into balls. So that was why Stephen had been there that morning. He lives in the same fucking apartment!
“Sir?” The attendant furrowed his brow. “Are you wanting apartment ten A or B?”
Jay unclenched his fists. “Oh, right, sorry. Saunders.”
The man nodded, picking up the telephone receiver. “Mr. Saunders, sir? I have a…” The attendant raised his bushy eyebrows at Jay.
“Jay Ruttman.”
“A Mr. Ja—” The attendant settled the phone back on the hook, hit the elevator button and smiled. “He seems rather keen.”
Jay stepped in and the ascension could not have gone quick enough. The illuminated number ten set off a ting as the elevator doors whooshed open and Jay’s stomach flipped. Seb held his apartment door open with a rakish grin and a sparkle in his dark eyes. The outstretched arm decorated in tattoos was enticing enough to lick, especially the Chinese symbol on the inside of Seb’s wrist.
Seb opened his mouth to speak, but Jay launched forward and kissed him, hard, the door falling from Seb’s grip and crashing into them both. Jay jostled him through the gap, kicking the door closed behind, his tongue demanding full access to Seb’s mouth. Seb stumbled backwards into the apartment, and rammed into the edge of the kitchen counter. Pure gluttony took over and Jay roamed his hands up into Seb’s top, scratching at the flesh, and nipping Seb’s soft lips.
Seb slapped a hand to Jay’s chest and heaved him off. “Hey, Champ?”
“What?”
Seb swiped a thumb over his bottom lip. “Not that I don’t like where this is heading, but I kinda have company.”
Jay tore his gaze from Seb to the two figures currently occupying the sofa separating the living space. Noah, hands clasped over his face, peered through his fingers and a wide-eyed Martin held up a hand in an awkward wave.
“Sorry. I would have texted to let you know but ‘fucking initiation bollocks’.” Seb’s attempt at the mockney tone received an arched eyebrow from Jay, so Seb smiled, sweetly. “We have a gig tomorrow. Although, that seems like peanuts to what we just did today. They flew in this morning and I had said they could crash here. Had I known this was to happen, I would have booked their sorry arses into the Hilton.”
“Chat it is then.” The disappointment in Jay’s delivery didn’t go unnoticed. “Got a beer?”
Adjusting himself, Seb snaked around the counter.
Jay sauntered over to the others in the living area and gave a curt nod. “Lads.”
“Good to see you again, Jay.” Martin shook his hand. “Good result today. Nice work.”
“Cheers. Lucky really.”
“Bollocks, man! You fucking ruled!” Noah slapped his legs. “I’m no Hammers fan. Sorry, blues all the way, but you got skill, dude.”
Seb handed Jay a beer and their lingering eye contact received a groan from Noah. Seb winked, wrapping his lips around the spout from his bottle.
“Where’s ours?” Noah barked.
“In the fucking fridge. Get it yourself.” Seb tugged on Jay’s hand and nodded over to the balcony.
“That’s harsh man. Just ‘cause we don’t leap at you all tongues blazing on entry, we don’t get the same hostess service?”
Seb stuck his middle finger up and Jay followed him out onto the balcony. Stood in an almost exact replica of how they had been the previous night, except, this time, the heavy pit in his stomach had been replaced. There was a light ahead, and not just from the advertising billboards. Although, there were still unanswered questions and unresolved issues to iron out, and Jay had no clue where to start with it all.
“Did you get any trouble?” Seb broke the silence, his voice whispering against the gentle breeze.
“Nah. Not really. Bruno’s just lookin’ out for me. And the team. He’s an all-right fella. Underneath the macho guise.”
Seb chuckled “Can I say it again?”
“Say what again?”
“Do not tell me you’ve forgotten already? It took me a while to come up with that speech and you’re saying I wasted it on your short-term memory? Too many fucking whacks to the head by footballs, I should say.”
Jay kissed him, tasting the cool fermented ale from the Brooklyn Brewery. “Yeah.” He hovered his lips over Seb’s. “You can say it again.”
“I love you.”
“Then what we gonna do about that?” He kissed Seb’s cheek, the stubble scratching, and breathed in the spicy scent from his skin.
“I’m done with this place, Jay. I should never have come here. I missed you. So. Fucking. Much.”
Jay’s heart leapt, remembering the previous night when he had uttered those exact words to Seb and his body yearned for more. “So what are you sayin’? You’ll quit the business?”
“Yes.” Seb dropped his beer bottle on the ledge of the balcony. “There’s no fucking way I’m going another month without seeing you. Hearing you. Feeling you.”
Jay wrapped his arms around Seb, clutching his beer behind Seb’s back, and kissed him. “So, there ain’t no one else?”
“No. Why would you even think that?”
“Last night. The condom box was open. A few were missing. We weren’t together, so it’s no real beef if you did, but just checking there ain’t no current bloke who’ll be a little pissed at this right now.” Like Stephen?
Seb hung his head. “The last person I used those with was you. Back home. I brought them with me. I wanted the reminder. Which, yes, I am aware is as lame as fuck. Don’t judge.”
“Ain’t judging.” Jay pecked Seb’s forehead, his tightened chest alleviated—
“There was one bloke, though.”
—until those words.
“Well, two. If I have to be completely honest here?”
“Right.” Jay stepped away, dropping his arms from Seb’s waist. He attempted to keep the hurt and disappointment out of that syllable, but failed miserably and so swigged from his beer in order to not have to respond straight away.
“The first was a client I was sent to charm. I think my father expected me to seduce Xavier, get him to sign over his father’s derelict building by Central Park whilst in a state of post-orgasmic euphoria or some shit.” Seb gulped down a load of beer, and Jay just waited for him to continue. “I didn’t. I made friends with the guy, flirted, that sort of thing. But once the deal was done, I never called or bothered to meet up with him again.”
“Okay… And the other geezer?”
“That one was rather… I didn’t mean to. It just happened. And I realise, on saying those words, it sounds like a clichéd load of bollocks, but I was drunk and I really did not stop thinking about you.”
Jay raised his eyebrows.
“Not during it, for fuck’s sake.” Seb slapped Jay’s chest. “Just, always. I can’t even remember what I thought about during it. I don’t even really remember it at all. Bits come back to me now and then.”
“All right.” Jay held up the bottle. “We’re golden to skip the details.”
Jay’s shoulders dropped at the regret displayed within Seb’s dark eyes. As much as it hurt, Jay had no right to be angry. It wasn’t like Jay hadn’t tried to move on either.
“Are you telling me there hasn’t been anyone else for you?”
Jay downed the last of his beer, plonking the empty on the ledge. “After you left, I wasn’t in the best of places. Focused on football. I did get dragged to a couple gay bars by Ann and Tom, though.”
“Tom? The American? The fucking saint of all things bleeding heart fucking liberal?”
“Yeah. He’s a good mate.”
“Friend with benefits, I’ll bet.” Seb grabbed his beer and downed the lot.
Jay stifled a laugh. “Nah. He just wanted me outta my shell. Show me there were more blokes in the world than just you. So we went to a couple bars.”
“Which ones?”
“I can’t remember the first one. Off Trafalgar Square. Really crowded and loud, basement level.”
“Zen? You’d get picked up within ten seconds of being in there. That’s all it is. A meat market.”
“You know ‘em all, do ya?”
Seb glanced away, guilt written all over his features.
“I was.”
“You was what?”
“Groped. I hated it, so we left. Then went to some dance place. I don’t dance. So just watched Ann and Tom. After that, I got scouted, so love life took a back bencher.” Jay paused, gazing into Seb’s widened eyes. “Until now.”
“Then let’s make it work this time.” Seb dug his fingers into the back of Jay’s neck, yanked him forward and kissed him.
With the past forgotten, Jay entwined his tongue with Seb’s, now certain this was right. This was love. Seb kissed him with only the intensity that Seb could.
“Oh, by the way.” Seb nipped at Jay’s earlobe. “I bet that you look good on the dance floor.”
“That a lyric?”
“Could well be.” Seb kissed him through a smile. “Heard it once on the trail.”
A knock on the frame of the sliding doors interrupted anything further and Martin poked his head through.
“Noah and I are heading out. Would say don’t wait up, but it’s not likely you will.”
“Where are you going?” Seb curled his fingers with Jay’s.
“Somewhere to pick up girls.” Martin shrugged. “Noah’s suggestion. Apparently I’m just going along to hold his hand.”
“As long as it isn’t his dick, you’ll be all right.”
“Ha. Yeah. You good?”
Seb smiled. “We’re good.”
Martin nodded and tapped the frame. “So, the accent. Does it work around here? Like, posh it up like you and Hugh Grant or rough it like him and Jason Statham?”
Jay peered around Seb. “You know he ain’t a real cockney, right?”
“What?” Martin’s voice elevated.
“Stick with the RP, my friend. I never had any troubles.” Seb grinned.
Jay nudged Seb with his elbow, making him stumble forward.
“Sure thing, dude.” Martin saluted and stalked back through into the apartment.
Jay drifted his hand away from Seb. “Back in a sec. Need to take a piss.” He kissed Seb’s cheek before scrambling after Martin. “Hey.”
Martin stopped at the front door, Noah leaving them to it.
“Gotta ask you, real quick.”
“Go on.”
“Stephen. How bad was it?” Jay’s chest inflated with the anxiety of asking such a question. He didn’t want to confront Seb, not now they’d made such a confession. But he needed to know. He had to know how much of a pull the bloke had on Seb. And, mainly, why.
Martin sighed. “Bad.”
Jay nodded, his chest tightening once more.
“I mean, it seemed all right to start with.” Martin shoved his hands in his jeans pocket. “They had a mutual…reason for what they did. But he let Seb down. Big-time. And after that, it got progressively worse. I think Seb was too attached to do anything about it. Seb’s a bit like that. I know he comes across like he might not give a shit, when really, like everyone, he craves to be loved. Or, maybe, thinking about it, Seb needs it that bit more. Because he never had it from anyone else.”
Jay couldn’t respond. He had no words. He’d save them all for Seb, anyway.
“Forget about Stephen.” Martin nodded toward the window. “If you truly do love him, go tell him. He’ll need to hear it a few times before he believes you.”
“I do love him.”
“Good. Then we’ll be out of the way for a while.” Martin walked out to the hallway and the door clicked on the latch behind him.
Jay glanced over to the balcony where Seb had a sappy grin on his face, gazing out into the night. Jay smiled. If Seb was willing to give his life up for him, then Jay had to offer more of the same. Regardless of what any football captain may suggest against. But first, nature calls. He jogged over to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
The New York sky that Seb had taken in every night for the past eight months, mostly tanked up on alcohol and nicotine, suddenly came into view. The beauty of the flickering lights, the sounds of laughter drifting up from the restaurants along the strip, and the warm breeze that wafted through Seb’s hair had become an engaging, almost romantic sight. From the street below, Martin and Noah clambered out of his building shoving one another, and Seb breathed in the euphoria. He could still smell Jay on his skin, could feel him on his fingertips and taste him on his tongue. But he no longer had to savour that to remember it. He could have it whenever he liked. Starting tonight. He’d do this right. No desperation, no fumbling, no fear that it would be all over come the light of day.
A grin uplifted his features, and he chuckled. He’d never thought himself as a romantic before, having never been given the opportunity. His stomach filled with enthusiastic butterflies and his heart beat to a perfectly timed rhythm. Jay, Seb realised right then, would be given everything Seb had. Which, after he gave everything up—the money, the job, the status—would be nothing but himself. And for the first time in forever, Seb realised that might well be just enough.
A shuffle behind him at the entrance to the French doors ripped Seb from his brief reverie and, as he angled his head, his smile diminished.
Stephen cracked his knuckles and stepped out into the dark, marching forward. “You fucked me over this morning. Now it’s my turn.”