Junk (36 page)

If only. Jasper still didn’t know if Lewis would even turn up, let alone want to get intimate. “I wouldn’t want things to be awkward. For any of us.”

“But I’m a total voyeur. Wouldn’t be awkward in the slightest.”

“Not for you, maybe.”

Mas stuck his head out of the back of the car. “I getcha. Tell you what, though, when you two are all snuggled up and happy, don’t you go forgetting me. Friends stay friends, yeah? I’m sick of being dumped when all my mates get boyfriends. Think they reckon I’m going to steal them away. I mean, do I look like a slapper? No, wait, don’t answer that. Have I got home-breaker tattooed on my forehead or something? I think not.” He hopped down onto the concrete, and Jasper could kind of understand why his newly coupled friends might not want him around. Mas was definitely eye-catching, and he had a slinky way of moving that oozed sex-appeal. He could resist it now, though, because what was inside Lewis’s head was so much more intriguing than what Mas could offer him.

No, he’d much rather have Mas as a friend than a lover. And Lewis as a lover and a friend.

He’d take friend if that was all he could get, though, even if it crushed his heart to a pulp.

As they loaded the rest of the boxes, Jasper half concentrated on Mas’s incessant chatter, while the rest of his mind wandered over memories of Lewis, daydreams of Lewis.

Lewis saying yes.

Lewis kissing him breathless.

Lewis down on one knee, asking him to… No, that was getting carried away. With a sigh, Jasper fitted the last box into his car, then stepped over to give Mas a hand with his.

Best not to think any more about what-ifs.

Best just to live in the moment, even if that did mean putting up with the worst case of queasy nerves he’d ever experienced.

One way or another, by the end of the day he’d have found out what Lewis wanted.

And if it wasn’t what Jasper wanted, he’d just have to learn to live with it.

Later, after their dad had been transferred up to the cardiac ward for observation, Lewis and Carroll took a break in a ramshackle waiting room, littered with tawdry magazines, empty cardboard cups and torn sugar wrappers.

Lewis put his feet up on the coffee table and lay back in the chair. “I thought he’d gone and left us. I really did.”

“Yep. Me too. Bloody Mum, not bothering to text once she knew he was okay. She should have known how worried we’d be.”

“Don’t blame her. She’s really cut up about it.” While Cassie had put her brave face on, both of them had seen her pallor, worry etched into her face. She’d aged ten years since Lewis had seen her over breakfast that morning. What must it have been like for Jasper, watching his mother slowly dying? And then having her plead with him to end it all?

“What are you thinking about?”

“Jasper.”

“Oh. I was thinking about Dad. About how I didn’t come over for lunch last week. I should have made up for it with a visit another day. I mean, they could just be gone tomorrow, couldn’t they? How would I feel if that happened when I’d not visited them for a couple of weeks? We live in the same bloody town; it’s not like I have a good excuse.”

“Anyone you love could drop dead tomorrow.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. So not what I needed right now.” Carroll pouted and crossed her arms.

“I didn’t mean it in a depressing way.”

“Under what circumstances exactly could that not be depressing?”

“I meant… I meant you have to seize the day. Like you were saying, make every day count. Show them you love them. Spend time with them. Be there for them. Store up all those good memories, so that if they’re taken away from you, you’ll know that you didn’t waste a minute of your time with them.”

Carroll nodded slowly, her tightly crossed arms gradually easing down into a handclasp. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.” Lewis stood. He had somewhere he needed to be. A loved one who deserved a whole load of good memories building up to counteract the bad. “Could you let Mum know I’ll call round later? Or maybe tomorrow morning, even. I bet Dad’ll be tired tonight, but I’ll phone to check if he’s up for a visit.”

“Where are you going?” Carroll asked. Her face was still blotchy, but at least her eyes were now clear.

“I need to let someone special know I love them. You’re right. I’ve been a scaredy-cat and a selfish prick, and I’m just hoping he can forgive me for that.”

The understanding dawned slowly, transforming her face into a radiant smile.

“You go get him, bro.”

“I intend to. If he’ll have me.”

“I don’t think there’s any doubt of that.”

He wished he had Carroll’s confidence, but all Lewis could remember was the look of abject misery on Jasper’s face when at the museum. Lewis’s insistence on their separation must have seemed like the ultimate betrayal after everything Jasper had shared with him.

But he’d crawl if he had to. Whatever it took to get back into Jasper’s good graces.

He was worth it.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

When Lewis slowed to pull up in front of number sixty-four, the space was taken by a beat-up old Mazda, so he carried on down the hill until he found a free spot outside a house covered in an incredible amount of light-up crap. A Santa train comprised of coloured lightbulbs chugged away up on the roof, and the front garden was awash with light-up reindeer and a huge inflatable snowman.

Dear God, whatever sight met him at Jasper’s house, it couldn’t be as bad as all that.

Lewis patted his coat pocket to check his parcel was still where he’d stowed it and trudged up the hill. He was almost there when he saw a man walk out the front gate of Jasper’s house. A young, slinky, attractive man. He was laughing, and as he lifted a box out of the boot of the Mazda, Lewis heard Jasper’s answering guffaw coming from somewhere behind the trees.

Who the hell was this?

Horrified jealousy congealed the breath in his lungs. He watched as Jasper walked out, grabbed another box from the boot and said something that made Slinky laugh again.

Was this guy moving in? Did Jasper have a new boyfriend?

Had four months really been too long to wait?

As if he could sense the intensity of Lewis’s stare, Jasper turned to look in his direction. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. “Lewis? Is that you?”

“Who?” Slinky asked, then turned to face Lewis as well. A delighted smile broke on his face. “Oh My non-gender-specific Deity. Is this
the
Lewis? The famous one?”

Lewis took an uncertain step forward.

Jasper stayed where he was, but Slinky began trotting towards him. “You would not believe how much he talks about you. I’ve spent the whole day hearing Lewis this and Lewis that. The man’s got it bad. I hope you’re going to treat him properly, or I’ll break your legs. Well, not me, obviously. I couldn’t even pull the legs off a fly. But I know people. One person, anyway. But he’s big and butch, and he’d totally do whatever I asked him to if he thought I’d make it worth his while.”

Who the hell was the chatterbox?

“Pleased to meet you,” Slinky said, sticking out his hand awkwardly from around the side of the box. “I’m Mas. I doubt Jasper’s ever mentioned me because I think he’s made far more of an impression on me than I’ve ever made on him.” Mas clamped his lips shut, eyes sparkling. “Oops, that sounded kind of filthy, didn’t it? Well, you don’t need to worry. There’s nothing like that going on anymore. We’re friends without benefits, unless you count me helping him lug his bloody books back from that fugly warehouse.”

“The books?” Lewis stared past him. Now he knew Mas wasn’t a threat, the man barely registered in his consciousness compared to the power of Jasper’s silent presence. Standing, looking every bit as gobsmacked as Lewis felt. “Not all the books?” he asked, finally. “Jasper?”

“Okay, okay, I know when I’m not needed,” Mas said with what Lewis assumed was only mock hurt considering the twinkle in his eye. “You can help Jasper with the last box, and I’ll clear off. Not even a cup of tea for my efforts. It’s a tough life sometimes, being a friend. Here.” Mas shoved the box in Lewis’s direction, and he had to take it or risk Jasper’s stuff ending up on the pavement.

Jasper finally stepped forwards. “We’ll have you round for dinner soon, Mas. I promise.”

We? It hung in the air between them, tantalising and unexplained. Was Lewis included in that
we
?

“Well, toodle-pip, lovebirds. I’ll leave you to make up by yourselves, since Jasper has banned me watching, the spoilsport. But I will hold you to that invitation, Jasper Richardson. Don’t you forget it.” The camp and coquettish tone dropped from Mas’s voice just long enough for Lewis to hear the genuine emotion underneath. Needy. Lewis recognised it as the same feeling in his own chest.

The Mazda disappeared with a plume of exhaust fumes that surely shouldn’t have been that brownish colour, and Lewis and Jasper were left standing there, both holding a box in front of them like some kind of antihug chastity belt. Maybe that was for the best, though, as now he was here, Lewis felt coy about stepping closer and taking what he needed. After all, he was a couple of months early. Maybe Jasper would insist on him sticking to the letter of his original terms.

As they stood there, staring at each other, something cold hit Lewis’s cheek. Rain? But then he caught sight of a drifting white speck in the air. “No way. Snow?”

Jasper stared up at the sky, a dopey smile on his face. “Wow, it really did come. Saw it forecast, although they say it’s too warm for it to settle. We got unpacked just in time.”

“Unpacked?”

“Yep.” Jasper looked inordinately proud of himself. “Come on in. We can drop these off. I’ll make hot chocolate and take you on a tour of the house.”

“Can I have a coffee instead? Hot chocolate makes me want to gag.”

“No hot chocolate. Right. Better make sure I start buying more coffee. You like biscuits, though, right? Those rock-hard biscotti ones. Do you have to get them in a deli or do they stock them in the supermarket?”

“Are you making a shopping list?”

Jasper flashed a shy grin. “Maybe.”

Okay, that was reassuring. Lewis returned his smile, watching Jasper’s break wider and wider until you could see all of his teeth. Lewis’s cheeks began to ache too. Then his teeth chattered.

“Right, inside,” Jasper ordered. “Way too chilly out here.”

“You first,” Lewis said when they got into a front-gate-politeness standoff. Jasper apologised and went in ahead, while Lewis admired the cut of his jeans. Were they new? Oh, the front gate definitely was. Or freshly painted and repaired. But it couldn’t hold a candle to the sight of Jasper’s arse in indigo denim.

That was probably why he didn’t properly notice the house until they were almost at the front door, when he finally spotted the Christmassy wreath hanging there and began to look around him.

“Oh my God. Jasper. This is… It’s… You did all this?” The window frames were all painted the same shade as the front door and gate, a rich burgundy gloss. It reflected back the golden pinpricks of the fairy lights draped over the porch and around the two trees closest to the house. Now that he looked back, he could see the front garden had been cleared and beaten into submission. It was still like a woodland, but more of a mossy glade than a fly-tipper’s rubbish-strewn thicket.

“All what? Mas helped with the lights, and I hired a couple of guys Carroll recommended to do all the decorating. I’ve had my work cut out for me sorting out the hoard.”

“How’s that going?”

“Why don’t you come inside and have a look?”

The last time he’d been in Jasper’s house it had been mostly clear and clean, but empty and with all the damage from neglect clearly on show. Now, though…

Jasper pushed open the front door and a wash of golden light fell over them. Lewis stepped onto a plush mat and stared at the entrance hall. The terrazzo marble floor gleamed, the banisters shone, and the bookshelves lining the wall between the living room and kitchen doors were packed with enticing spines of colourful paperbacks. He took it in for a moment before Jasper pushed the door to the living room open.

“Oh, Jasper!” Lewis stood on the threshold, staring, until Jasper came and took the box from his arms.

“Come inside. It’s draughty with the door open.”

Lewis stepped inside what had to be the warmest, cosiest room he’d ever entered. All three of the inside walls were lined with books from floor to ceiling, and a real fire blazed in the grate. There was a Persian rug with a geometric pattern of rusts and golds on the floor, flanked by a battered but comfortable-looking chocolate-brown leather sofa and a couple of green velvet armchairs.

The dark red curtains were still open, revealing a whirling profusion of flakes outside the bay window. But in here everything was comforting, the sweet scent and soft crackles of burning wood pervading the air.

“So, what do you think?” Jasper asked, nerves and pride battling for supremacy in his voice.

“I think it’s the most homey room I’ve ever been in.”

“Homely?” Jasper frowned. “Doesn’t that mean ugly?”