With or Without Him (25 page)

He was about to exit onto the street when he thought again. Maybe going over the wall was a better choice. If Gerald was hanging about on the road, Tyler didn’t want to bump into him and if he saw the other guy, he’d officially freak out.

Five minutes later, Tyler sprinted toward the Tube station, officially freaked out. The guy in the gray coat was definitely following him. No more wondering. No more thought of coincidence. Tyler vaulted down the steps, barely letting his feet connect with them and ran onto the platform just as the doors were closing. The train was going the wrong way but he didn’t care. He flung himself on board, pressed his face to the window and watched as the man hurried onto the platform. Tyler turned away and dropped onto a seat.
What the hell is going on?

By the time he’d changed trains several times and reached Holland Park, he’d gone through every reason he could think of for someone to follow him and still not made sense of it. Prescott? Gerald? Maybe neither.

When he let himself into the house, he saw a light coming from Haris’s study. He knocked on the door and poked his head around.

“I need—”

“What?” Haris snapped.

Tyler let the words ‘a hug’ die in his throat. “Thought you’d be warming the bed.”

“I’m busy.”

“I need to talk to you.”

That got him to look up, but the expression on his face made Tyler feel like his heart had been put in a vise.

“I’m busy.”

Haris looked down again. Tyler backed away and closed the door quietly. He had no idea what he’d done now, but he was tired of always being in the wrong, always being the one who tried to put things right. He needed someone he could rely on, not a man who blew hot and cold on a whim. Then he remembered what he’d just said to Jeremy. That he had to take care of himself. What was the point telling Haris about Prescott’s parties? The outcome was inevitable. He might as well pack.

Except he had nowhere to go and some stupid, pathetic part of him still wanted Haris.

Haris stared at the closed door and then reached into his drawer and took out his mobile.

“He’s just got back. Start again and tell me exactly how you came to lose him.”

Stan was apologetic, clearly professionally offended that Tyler had managed to not only spot he had a tail but give him the slip.

“I need more than one person watching him,” Stan said.

“No, don’t bother. I’ve heard and seen enough. Send me your bill.”

Haris’s fingers shook as he switched off the phone. Tyler had lied to him. He’d told him he was going to see Jeremy and he hadn’t. He’d met some dark-haired guy. Stan had taken a picture of them in each other’s arms before the pair had gone into Tyler’s flat, and sent it to Haris’s phone. The pain of Tyler’s betrayal made his heart hurt.

Tomorrow he’d tell him to leave.

As he walked up the stairs, the creak of a headboard froze him in his tracks. The door opposite his room was part open. Haris heard the noise again, this time accompanied by a low moan of pleasure and his cock stirred. He told his feet to keep moving toward his room but his dick overruled his brain. The rhythmic creaking of the headboard ratcheted up his desire and Haris had to clamp his lips together to stop a moan of his own escaping.

He stepped silently to the door and leaned against the wall. He had an almost perfect view in the lamplight of a naked Tyler, lying on his back, his hands wrapped around his cock. His eyes were closed, dark lashes brushed his cheeks, his mouth open as he panted. Haris watched mesmerized as Tyler worked his shaft with two hands and every time the rounded head of his dick was exposed, Haris gulped.

His own dick pushed insistently at his zipper, and he fumbled to free it, every sound he made seeming overloud. But Tyler was wrapped fast in his own need, his slight groans and cries building in intensity as he began to buck his hips. Haris wrapped his fingers around his dick and squeezed hard. He almost wanted to hurt himself to drag his brain into gear and step away.

Only nothing could make him step away.

When Tyler took one hand from his cock, brought it to his mouth and sucked his fingers, Haris bit his lip. Tyler looked so sexy, so perfect, so…
fucking treacherous bastard fucking hurtful lying cheating stupid…
Haris tasted blood. The guy’s hand dropped from his mouth to his nipple and twisted it hard in his fingers. When Tyler sucked in a breath, Haris did too.
You like that? Did you like that when I did it? What didn’t I do right? Why didn’t you want me enough?

Tyler spread his legs, dug his heels into the bed and began to thrust his hips up as he dragged his fist down. Haris found himself matching Tyler’s speed, his hand dragging up and down his erection at the same pace, imagining he held both their dicks. Tyler’s body gleamed with perspiration and he longed to lick every inch of his skin. He longed to sink his cock into Tyler’s ass and fuck him and fuck him and fuck him.

He longed for him and it was over.

Pre-come leaked from their cocks, wetting their hands. They were doing this together and they’d never been further apart. As his shaft slid more rapidly in his grip, Haris’s balls tensed and drew up tight to his body. Tyler came with a loud moan, come spewing over his chest in long silky lines. Haris sank his teeth into his cheeks as orgasm grabbed him in its jaws. The ache in the back of his head intensified and fire shot down his spine to ignite his balls. He wrapped his hand around the tip of his cock and spurted into his palm.

The moment he could walk, he slid across the hall into his room and closed the door.

Tyler sighed heavily. So that hadn’t worked. He’d hoped Haris would join him. The guy knew it wasn’t his room so he had to have realized he was doing it on purpose. He rolled out of bed and padded upstairs. It had been a last ditch attempt, though he wondered why he’d bothered. Haris didn’t want him anymore. Simple as that.

Chapter Fourteen

When Haris went down for breakfast, he found Tyler and Wilson in the kitchen. Tyler was on his knees next to Alcide and both he and Wilson had their backs toward him.

“Sit,” Tyler said.

Alcide wagged his tail but stayed on all fours.

“Sit,” Tyler said and pressed on his rump.

“He’s very willful,” Wilson said.

Yes, he fucking is.

Tyler reached up and broke off a piece of bacon from the rasher on his plate. He held it in front of Alcide. “Sit.”

The dog immediately sat. Tyler gave him a tiny piece of bacon. “Good boy. Now fetch the ball.”

The dog bounded off but came back without the ball.

“Sit,” Tyler said and as soon as Alcide dropped his haunches, he gave him the bacon.

“It’s easy with bacon,” Wilson said.

But doesn’t work with thirty fucking thousand pounds?

“Well, you have to start somewhere and then build up to him wanting to please you for no more than a pat on the head.” Tyler dropped onto a chair.

So what did I do wrong?

Wilson spotted him. “Oh, good morning, sir.”

“Morning,” Haris mumbled.

Tyler smiled at him. “Morning.”

Treacherous fucking bastard.

Haris sat at the table and reached for his orange juice.
Tell him to pack.
He reached for his toast and bit into it.

“Have you remembered about the gig tonight?” Tyler asked.

“I’m busy.”

The smile slid from Tyler’s face.

Ask your dark-haired friend.

“Would you like to come, Wilson?” Tyler asked.

“Well, I—”

“Wilson will be busy too,” he snapped.

“Oh. Okay.”

I am such an asshole.

Tyler pushed to his feet, his breakfast unfinished. “I better get going. Thanks for breakfast, Wilson. Bye, Alcide. Bye… Yeah, bye.”

Haris filled his mouth with toast so he couldn’t tell him not to come back.

A moment later, the front door slammed and Haris jumped.

“Trouble in paradise, sir?”

When he didn’t respond, Wilson cleared his throat and Haris braced himself.

“I do find, sir, that talking is the first step towards sorting out problems. Though I’m sure you have perfectly sound reasons for remaining stoically silent, might I be so bold as to suggest that telling the young man what the problem is might be a step in the right direction?”

“No, you may not.” Haris glowered.

And for once, he shut Wilson up.

But after a useless day at work, he accepted that he was being an idiot. He was
assuming
Tyler had been unfaithful, but he didn’t
know
. There could be another explanation for that photo Stan took and all he had to do was ask Tyler who the guy was.

Haris spotted Tyler the moment he and Wilson walked into the venue in Borough. He stood center stage under a spotlight with a guitar hanging around his neck, laughing at something the bass player was saying. Almost as though Tyler had sensed him come into the room, though Haris couldn’t see how that was possible because he stood in darkness, the guy stared straight at him and his face lit in a smile.

His gut clenched. Something in the way Tyler looked at him made him feel…warm, wanted. You couldn’t fall for someone in the amount of time they’d known one another, and yet one glance from Tyler made him think anything was possible. And he hated him for it because it made him feel weak. He couldn’t be in situations where he felt emotionally vulnerable. He hadn’t wanted to come tonight but Wilson had worn him down.

He fought his way to the bar, bought a beer for himself and a tonic and orange for Wilson, and found a place for them to stand at the side of the room. There were no seats empty. The place was packed with people a lot younger than him. More Tyler’s age. He winced as a mic screeched and then Tyler said, “Thanks for coming. We’re called Falling. If you like us, tell your mates. If you don’t, keep your mouth shut.”

He nodded to the drummer and they began. Tyler was wearing tight black jeans that emphasized his slender hips, a sleeveless black leather top, and he looked…perfect.
Oh Christ.
He should have guessed he had a fantastic voice but it was more than that. He sang with his entire body, the sound pouring from his soul straight into Haris’s heart.
And I hurt him because I assumed and didn’t trust.
The dark-haired man could be a friend, not a lover. All he had to do was ask, except that would mean admitting he’d had Tyler followed.
So assume the best not the worst, you idiot.

The band went through numbers by different artists: Robbie Williams, James Morrison, Coldplay and Snow Patrol, before Haris realized he’d not taken a drink of his beer. The members of Falling were talented and versatile. By their reaction, the audience seemed to think so too. Now his eyes had adjusted to the light, Haris recognized Simon Keys, from
Spot
, the music magazine. He was nodding his head to the beat and glancing around the room, gauging the reaction. When his gaze landed on Haris, he nodded and smiled.

Tyler tapped the mic. “Thanks, everyone. Almost done. You can nip to the loo in a minute but we’re gonna do a few of our own songs so cross your legs or you’ll miss a treat. The first’s called “Eye of the Storm” and it’s dedicated to a right pain in the neck.”

Within moments Haris’s throat blocked up.

You saw me there

Hanging from the cross

Caught in the eye of the storm

You cut me free

And now I’m torn

Still caught in the eye of the storm

Can you live

With or without me

Trapped in the eye of the storm

I want to be with you

Doing whatever it takes

Living in the eye of the storm

When they finished the final set, the applause was deafening. Tyler had a broad smile on his face as he acknowledged the cheers, and Haris saw him scanning the crowd, looking for—
me
—and then the smile became even wider and Haris smiled back. No more assuming, he
knew
whatever Stan had seen, he was wrong, that whatever the picture showed, it wasn’t what it seemed, and that Tyler was his if he wanted him and he
did
want him.

“Well, that was a surprise,” Simon said at his side once applause for the last song had died away. “You said they were good, but I hadn’t expected that.”

Haris laughed. “I hadn’t actually heard the band before, only Tyler and not singing. You’re impressed then?”

“Oh yeah. They’re a cut above the rest. Doesn’t mean they’ll make it, but they have talent, they’re different, and they can do more than mimic other bands, which is a start. They’re in with a chance. I need to go and speak to them while they’re packing up. Thanks for pointing him out. Lucky guy.”

Tyler or me?
The journalist wandered off in the direction of the stage and Haris and Wilson slipped into newly vacated seats.