CHAPTER SEVEN
As soon as Charlie disappeared back into the kitchen, Sam looked at Dave and mouthed, “What?” He had that expression that meant his mind was adding two and two and coming up with five.
“Nothing,” Dave mouthed back with a shrug. “You two seem friendlier than I was expecting, given that you hate him.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “I never said I hated him,” he whisper-hissed, even though the door was shut. “Stop exaggerating.” He turned to run his roller over the wall, then glanced over his shoulder. “I said I used to hate him. Besides, I was with him all day yesterday. I couldn’t exactly ignore him.”
Dave’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “So, you gossiped like old school friends?”
“No, but we did talk about stuff.” He sighed, the words sticking in his throat. “Like I said before, he’s all right, I guess.” He expected Dave to crow and say, “I told you so,” but instead he smiled.
“Yeah, he seems an okay bloke.” Leaning against the doorjamb, Dave gestured at the kitchen with his thumb. “You decided to let all that go, then? Forget what happened at school and start fresh?”
Not exactly. If he’d remembered for all these years, Sam didn’t think it was going away any time soon, but he could choose not to rake up the past. “Something like that.” Setting his roller in the tray at his feet, he wiped his hands on a rag. “To be honest, I’m not sure he even remembers it.” And that fact irked Sam a bit. A lot. “So probably best to let it go.”
“Probably.” Dave sighed. “Shall we? Tea must be done by now.”
Satisfied his hands were clean enough, Sam led the way into the kitchen.
Charlie smiled when they walked in. “Hey, I was just about to bring them out to you.”
Cracking his neck from side to side, Sam walked over to the worktop and leant against it. “That’s okay, I fancied a break from the paint fumes anyway. He took the mug Charlie offered him. “Thanks.”
“I found these too.” Charlie set a plate of chocolate digestives between Sam and Dave. “Help yourselves.”
“Thanks,” Dave said, already reaching for one.
Sam glanced from the plate to Charlie, then at his laptop sat open on the kitchen island. “Can you work okay with us here?” They didn’t make all that much noise, he didn’t think, but Charlie might be one of those people who needed complete quiet to work. Not that there was much they could do about that. They had work to do too.
Two spots of colour appeared high on Charlie’s cheeks. Bit of a weird thing to get embarrassed about.
Charlie waved a hand at his laptop. “Yeah, it’s fine. Just struggling a bit today. Nothing to do with being here though,” he added.
Sam was curious as to what he did on there all day but kept the questions to himself.
After his third biscuit, Dave set his mug down and folded his arms. “So, what are you up to tonight then? Anything exciting?”
Sam took a sip of his tea, surprised to find he was more than a little bit curious to hear Charlie’s answer.
Charlie frowned like it wasn’t something he was looking forward to. Sam was even more intrigued.
“I’m going to pick up a few things left at the house.” He shifted position and glanced down at his feet. “The one I shared with my ex,” he clarified.
Dave nodded. “Was he the one who helped you move in?”
A look of surprise flashed across Charlie’s face. “Yeah. You saw him?”
Sam glared at Dave. He must’ve felt Sam’s eyes on him but refused to look his way. I’ll bloody kill him if he drops me in it.
“We noticed the van—I was round helping Sam build his wardrobe—and were a bit curious.” He smiled like it was no big deal that they’d been watching from Sam’s flat. “No offence, but he’s easy on the eye. We were gonna look.”
Mildly horrified that Dave had said that when Charlie was clearly still recovering from his break-up, Sam held his breath, wondering if things were about to get incredibly awkward.
To his relief, Charlie huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s not bad.”
“You two seemed pretty friendly. Amicable split? If you don’t mind me asking,” Dave added.
Sam would mind if he was Charlie. He’d be telling Dave to mind his own fucking business right about now, but Charlie just sighed, a sad smile curving his mouth.
“No, it’s fine. And yes, I guess you could call it amicable. We don’t hate each other or anything like that. It was hard to accept it was over between us. Things were said on both sides that we regret. But Tim was a good friend before we got together, and I hope we can get back to that at some point.” Another sigh, this one a little wistful, and his hand had found its way into his hair, the almost black strands a sharp contrast to his pale skin. “Things are still a little…” He waved a hand in the air as though searching for the right word.
“Raw?” Sam supplied. He knew a thing or two about breakups. Knew how shit things got for a while afterwards until you picked up the pieces and moved on.
“Yeah… that.” Charlie met his gaze, expression open and vulnerable, and try as he might to resist it, Sam found himself warming up to him. “So, while you lot are going for a pint, I’ll be traipsing across the city to pick up a sad box of shit that I probably don’t even need.”
“You could come along later if you want?” Sam offered, surprising himself, and Dave too, judging by the look on his face. “We’ll probably stay there until closing time.”
“Thanks, but I thought I’d take the opportunity to drop in on some of my friends since I’m over that way.”
Sam felt an unexpected pang of disappointment but quickly shook it off. “Fair enough.” He drained the last of his tea and then reached for a biscuit. “Thanks for this.” He lifted the biscuit and smiled. “Better get back to work.”
“Yeah.” Dave followed his lead back into the hallway.
Once the door clicked shut, Sam counted down in his head. Three… two… one…
“Get you being all friendly and shit.”
“Fuck off.”
Dave laughed, so Sam gave him the finger for good measure.
“You need to get a move on or I’ll be going to the pub without you.” He made a shooing gesture with his fingers until Dave rolled his eyes and went back into the bathroom.
KATH ARRIVED HOME at about half-past three this time, armed with grocery bags. “Oh.” She looked at the state of the hall—wet paint on the walls, dust covers on the floor, and Sam’s ladders arranged on the stairs so he could reach up to the top of the landing wall. “I forgot you were painting the hall today.” She eyed the ladders where Sam stood. “And are you sure that’s safe?”
Sam smiled down at her. “Perfectly safe. As long as you don’t try to come up here yet.”
“I don’t need to go upstairs. I just need to get to the kitchen to put these away.” She gave the bags a little shake, then nodded at the hallway. “Is that paint still wet?”
“Hmm… maybe a bit tacky. But you’re okay to walk over the dust sheets. Just stay away from the walls.”
Kath laughed, sounding a lot like her brother. “Oh God, you have no idea how clumsy I am. Trust me, if there’s wet paint, I’m going to get it on me somehow.”
Before Sam could reply to that, the kitchen door opened.
“Thought I heard you come in.” Charlie stood there taking in the scene before him. He pointed to Kath’s shopping bags. “Is that all of them?”
“No, there’s a couple more in the car.”
“Right.” He shut the door, and a few seconds later, the living room door opened. Ahh, why didn’t I think of that? “You come this way, and I’ll go get the other bags from the car.”
Kath sighed. “God, why didn’t I think of that.” At least I’m not the only one, then. “It’s been a long week, and I’m knackered. That’s my excuse.” She glanced up at Sam with a grin. “What’s yours?”
Sam stared back for a second, thinking of what to say. Catching Charlie looking at him out of the corner of his eye, he smirked. “Not enough tea.”
Not missing a beat, Charlie smiled back. “You know where the kettle is. Pretty sure Kath told you yesterday you could help yourself to tea and coffee.”
“Yes, of course,” Kath chimed in. “Milk’s in the fridge, and everything else is next to the kettle.”
“Right, thanks.” For some unknown reason, Sam had the urge to stick his tongue out at Charlie. So he did.
Charlie looked at him, expression a mixture of surprise and disbelief.
Christ, he must think I’m a right tit.
Sam looked away quickly as he felt heat rush to his cheeks.
“Actually, I was just about to make a drink, if you fancy one, Sam?” The amusement was clear in his tone, and when Sam finally met his gaze, he could see it in his eyes too.
“Thank you, that’d be great.” Sam, on the other hand, couldn’t help but sound overly polite. Kath looked between the two of them, a puzzled crease to her brow.
But then Charlie was shouting at Dave, asking him if he wanted a drink, and whatever weird moment they were having was broken. Kath took her shopping through the living room to the kitchen, and Charlie took her keys and went out to get the rest of it.
Sam shook his head at himself. What the fuck was that? I don’t even like him.
But that wasn’t true anymore. Was it?
Sam went back to painting, gripping the roller tight enough to make his hand ache.
“SOOO…” DAVE LET the word linger in the air as they put their seatbelt on.
“What?” Sam started the engine, impatient to get going. It was already gone six, Dave had hit a few snags installing the toilet and sink, so it’d taken longer than usual. Of course, it had to happen on a Friday when Sam was looking forward to having a few pints with his mates.
Same as yesterday, Charlie left not long after Kath got back, and despite Sam being busy painting the landing, he’d noticed his absence far more than he’d expected to. And that thought made him uncomfortable. He’d pulled out onto the road and Dave still hadn’t answered him. He glanced over to find Dave watching him, studying him almost. “What?”
“You and Charlie…”
Sam sighed. What was with all the dramatic pauses? “What about us?” And didn’t that sound weird? There was no us.
He heard Dave shifting in his seat to face him better, but Sam kept staring straight ahead. “You two seem friendly.”
“And I already told you that we chatted for a bit yesterday.”
“Yeah, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were flirting.”
Sam huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, right.”
“And it wasn’t just you either,” Dave carried on, undeterred. “He was just as bad.”
“Bollocks.” But Sam had thought the same thing, not that he was going to admit that to Dave. He’d be unbearable. But for a few moments today, it’d felt like flirting. And Sam had enjoyed it. Even now, thinking about it sent a warm thrill through him, and he felt himself smile.
“And look at that secretive little smile you’ve got going on!” Dave reached over and prodded him in the cheek making Sam scowl. “You like him.”
“I said he was all right.”
“No.” Dave shook his head. “You like him, like him. As in fancy him.”
Sam indicated to turn right at the junction, grumbling at the amount of traffic. This was why he’d been hoping to get away before five. “We’re not at school now, you know.” It came out a lot snippier than he’d intended. “Sorry, I’m tired, that’s all. And yes, I think he’s easy on the eye, and so far he seems a nice bloke, but that’s all. It’s not going anywhere.”
“But—”
“Leave it alone, Dave. I’m not going there, okay?”
“Fine. Won’t mention it again.”
He let it drop, thank God, talking about footy instead, and Sam’s mind wandered as he crawled along in the Friday night traffic. Much to his dismay, but probably inevitably, his thoughts went back to Charlie.
Specifically, what Charlie was doing tonight.
Sam remembered that hug Charlie and his ex-boyfriend had shared outside the van when he moved in. Sam had never been that close to any of his exes after they broke up. They were still speaking, but that was it. That hug had screamed unfinished business to Sam, as though neither of them was ready to let go despite what they’d decided. Even if Sam was interested—which he so wasn’t—no way was he getting involved with someone so clearly hung up on his past.