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Since he’d taken the Commodore deathtrap that Sunday night, he’d heard from Heath via a handful of texts and two quick calls. Wednesday evening, I’m totally making this up to you, he’d said. Up being the operative word.
Funny how that line kept him going, cheesy as it was.
Wednesday morning, he woke to a sudden attack of nerves that sent him straight to the bathroom. By ten o’clock that morning, he’d showered twice, hoping the warm water would calm his nerves. Well, it didn’t, but he sure was clean.
“Why’re you all jumpy?” Benny asked when he started as the guy came into the lounge.
Will threw his head back against the couch. Really, he should be in the office, but who was he kidding, today he wasn’t concentrating on anything. Tomorrow he’d make up for it. “Date tonight.”
Benny flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “A date has you in such a state—ohhh. Got it. James,” he yelled for his partner.
James’s head popped around the corner, brushing his teeth.
“We’re going out tonight.”
“Itughsvingfholdy.” James held up his finger, raced back to the bathroom and came out again a minute later. “I thought we were saving for our holiday?”
Benny jumped up from the sofa, padded over to James and kissed him. “What can I say? I want to spoil you now as well as then. Also”—he tiptoed and whispered in James’s ear.
James glanced toward him. Three guesses what Benny was saying. “Gotcha. But we do this Cinderella style. I’m too old to stay up any later.”
Now it was Will’s turn, he pointed two fingers like a gun. “Gotcha.”
“Oh, and if you use the kitchen, please clean up after yourselves.”
James frowned. “Even we haven’t used the kitchen.”
“Gah.” Benny slapped James’s chest. “I meant for cooking! And we have, actually. Remember the Twix incident. . . .”
James’s eyes glazed over, and he smiled. “Oh, yeah.” He raked Benny with his gaze and began to push him out of the lounge. “I love Twix.”
Will took that as his cue to finally get out of the house and head to New World to pick up something for dinner. Which proved difficult, because he had no idea what they should have. And even less idea how to make it. Crackers and cheese seemed a safe bet. No cooking required.
But then that didn’t show a lot of effort, so . . .
He wandered through the aisles multiple times, chucking in anything that looked exotic and interesting—and that didn’t require being mushed all together. Indian sounded like a fine idea. The sauce, rice and naan could all be presented in their individual bowls. But wait—Indian before they . . . it’d fill them up too much and leave their breath not much to be desired. For that matter, garlic was out. Same with the onions.
Damn. He was back to zilch in his basket.
His cell buzzed. Heath.
Hey you. I have a favor to ask . . . Mum really wants to see you.
He stopped in the international aisle and replied.
Sure. Now?
He had the Commodore still, so he could be up there in less than fifteen minutes. The cell buzzed again.
Thanx.
He ditched his empty basket and made his way to the car. It rumbled to life, groaning and complaining the farther he drove. The funky sounds put Will on edge, and, like he was constantly doing in this car, he calmed himself by working through basic algebra equations.
On the Hill, the lights turned red. Of freaking course. While he waited, he wiped his sweaty hands on the chair, and checked the rearview mirror. Could that dude get any closer up his backside. Jeesch.
The lights turned green. He pulled off as slowly on the clutch as he could, letting down the handbrake—
He jerked forward as the car stalled. Flustered, he tried again, but the beeping of waiting cars agitated him and he stalled again. Shit. He hated stick shifts. He hated hills. Why did Dunedin have to have so many. Damn, right now he wished a big-ass iron would come and flattened the city, just so he could drive.
“Come on, Sally. Throw me a bone here.”
Third try, he hit it lucky. And the next two lights he sailed through the amber—no way was he stopping again. At the Wallaces’, he parked and gave the driver door slam. At which, Heath came out of the house, one brow raised.
Will threw him the keys. “You’re driving from now on until I buy us an automatic.”
He charged up the path toward Heath, pausing half-way when he realized what he’d said. Buy us an automatic. Us?
He groaned. There was his big mouth at work again. Sure, thinking on it, a shared car was exactly what he wanted—along with a shared everything else. But they had barely been going out a week and a half. A week and a half! He was bound to push Heath away saying stuff with undertones of commitment like that. Commitment they couldn’t have, anyway. He couldn’t forget he was only here until the end of the year.
They had an expiration date.
His spirits drooped along with his shoulders as he forced himself up the rest of the path.
Heath grinned at him, stuffing the keys in his pocket. “I’ll keep Sally, thanks. If only to see you all in a huff like this again. You’re cute when you’re upset.”
Even those sweet words couldn’t snap him out of the funk he found himself in. Heath braced a hand on his arm, pulling him back before he’d crossed the threshold inside.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Will forced a smile. “Nothing. I’m . . . it’s good.”
Heath brushed a stray hair off his face, much as Sig had to Candice yesterday—and that lifted him a little higher. “I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged. “Guess I’m just nervous.” Nervous of loving you, and having my heart decimated again.
A look of disbelief crossed Heath’s face. “Nervous? What, about tonight? You? You always seem pretty . . . confident.” A grin dimpled his cheek. “’Cept around Murky, of course.”
“I’m getting better around him.” Sorta.
Vicky’s voice tunneled down the hall. “William? Is that you I hear?”
“Yes, Vicky. Just . . . chatting to Heath.”
Her footsteps came toward them, and Heath didn’t bother shifting apart, even though their arms were touching. That was a good sign.
“How are you?” he asked when Vicky filled the doorway, dressed in jeans and wearing beads in her ears to pick out the gold threads woven through her top. She met his gaze, her smile looking strained on her painted face.
“Just glad you came. And hoping you’re up for a drive?”
Will smiled. “So long as we’re not in the Commodore deathtrap.”
“You’re no fun,” Heath said, shaking his head.
Vicky slipped on some shoes by the door. “Let’s hear you talk about fun when you discover how much it’s going to cost to pass your warrant.”
Heath’s smirk fell. Will clapped him on the shoulder and said to him. “I want to be there when that happens.”
Vicky drove him to St Clair, the beach she’d taken him to once before when she’d tried and failed to tell him the truth. They walked across the sand, Vicky stopping every now and then to gather flat stones. Cool, salty breezes had him huddling into his pullover.
They moved closer to the water and Vicky passed him some of her stones. He felt their smoothness against his palm as Vicky whipped a stone at the water, skimming it three times. “Lakes are better for this. The water’s calmer.” She threw another one, managing four bounces. “Heath taught me this.” She glanced at his hands. “Try it.”
He tried. The stone plunked into the water with a splash. “Maybe I should get Heath to teach me as well.”
She smiled. “He’s a good teacher. He’ll show you how it’s done.” Again she threw. “He’s starting back at university next semester.”
“Yeah, he told me.”
“It’s about time, too. He tends to put others before himself too much sometimes. God knows he does with me.” She dug her foot into the sand, twisting it. He could see just how hard this was for Vicky to say so he kept still, not looking directly at her. “It’s so easy to take advantage of too. I really love having him around. But . . . a few things need to change in my life—and one of them is Heath.” She looked at him. “I’m kicking him out of the hut. He’s only there for me and it’s not right. He should be out flatting again. Living his own life. What do you think of that?”
He agreed with it. “Does he know this yet?”
“No. And don’t tell him. I’ll break it to him at the weekend.”
He bit the insides of his lips as if to seal them. He wasn’t the best at keeping secrets and he didn’t like the idea of keeping things from Heath particularly, but he could and would respect Vicky on this one. “Of course.”
She nodded, rubbing her last stone between her fingers as if she could make it any smoother. “The reason I wanted to talk to you today . . . ” She frowned and threw the stone, staring at the course it jumped on the water. A chill breeze blew over them, and, with it, she spoke, words sharp as if trying hide the emotion behind them, but they just pierced further inside. “I never got to say goodbye.”
She stared at her hands, twisting them together like she wasn’t sure what to do with them now all the stones were gone.
“William?”
He croaked out a “Yeah?”
“Thank you for being there. For being here right now. I know you didn’t have to. It means a lot you are.”
She moved away from the water and sat down at the base of a bank. He sat next to her, pressing his lips together to prevent himself from blurting out how sorry he was. Vicky hadn’t finished yet; he could see it in the way she threaded her fingers through the sand and grass, her mouth opening and closing, body hesitating with it.
“William?” But this time she didn’t wait for him to respond. “You know you’re a beautiful person, don’t you?”
She smiled and touched his cheek with sandy fingers. The glassy look in her eyes made him feel like she wasn’t really seeing him. Vicky might be talking with him, but really, she was talking to her son.
“You have a vibrant energy around you, you make people happy. You always make me laugh. One of the best sounds in this world. I love how you hug me at the same time as telling me I suck when I clean that pigsty of a room of yours. I love how without asking you give me a back rub while asking about my day. When you ask what the best part of it was, I always want to answer it’s you and Heath. Always and every day. My beautiful sons make me the luckiest and happiest woman in the world.”
Will sniffed, Vicky blurring behind his moist eyes. This was her son she loved so much, this was Heath’s brother that he loved so much, this was even Rory’s friend he loved so much. A son, brother, friend that had been taken from them without the chance of a good bye.
“William?” Vicky’s voice broke on his name.
“Yeah?”
“Good bye, love.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. Then slowly, she shut her eyes and twisted her face toward the ocean, vast and blue, wind rippling the surface. She let out a long sigh, and they sat there until the tide started coming in, and it grew so cold, hugging into his pullover wasn’t enough.
Vicky rubbed her arms and got up. “Let’s head back now, Will.”
* * *
He kept quiet on the drive from the Wallace’s back to his place. Heath darted glances at him, thumbs hitting the steering wheel, and not in time to the music. This was nerves. Heath wanted to know what his mom had said to him.
The car came to a stop, and only once he’d let them both inside did he find his voice. “I forgot to shop for dinner.”
“Never mind dinner.” Heath pulled him onto the sofa. “What happened?”
“I finally understood,” he said, curling into Heath’s side, staring at the pinky-orangey glow of the sunset filtering through the white drapes.
“Understood?”
He could feel just how tense Heath was right now. “Get on the floor.” He pointed to the base of the sofa and nudged him in the direction, throwing a cushion down for him to sit on. He threw his legs over either side of him and began rubbing the tension out of his shoulders.
“I thought your mom thought of me as a replacement for your brother, somehow—”
“This is what you talked about with her?”
“Yes. What did you think we were talking about?”
“About us. I told her this morning.”
Will stopped mid-rub, hearing the smile in his voice as he said, “You did?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I said I would.”
“Yeah, but I’ve heard that line before and it never happened.”
Heath shook his head, taking one of his feet and caressing it. “No more lies between us anymore, remember? I’ll follow through with what I say.”
He was very much a fan of that sentiment. But still, telling Vicky happened awfully fast. “Just three days ago, you said she’d need more time. What changed?”
Heath rested his head back against Will’s stomach and looked up at him, blue eyes so light, he couldn’t help but think how fragile Heath seemed right now, tucked so close to him.
“There may never be the perfect time,” Heath said. “I realized that this week watching Mum struggle to get her bearings again. And I just didn’t want to wait any longer. I’ve put so much to the side to help her these last couple of years, I didn’t want to do that with you, too. So I told her that I was happier than I have been in a long time.” He squeezed his big toe. Will wanted to savor the feeling forever. “And she sighed, scrubbed her tear-beaten face and said that was the best thing she’d heard in months. And when she asked why, I told her. Want to know what she said?”
Will’s heart was doing triple somersaults listening to Heath’s words. He bent and kissed the back of his neck. “What?”
Heath chuckled. “She said: Finally. Which was great.” Heath arched back for a quick upside down kiss. Then he lifted his head again. “I mean it was great, except, honestly, that sort of creeped me out for a second. Especially since she saw you as replacing my brother—”
Will cut Heath off. “That’s what I thought at first, too. It made me uncomfortable. It’s why I had to leave—”
“It’s why I wanted you never to live with us in the first place,” Heath said, his grip loosening on his foot. “I knew it was just a matter of time before everything would crash and burn.
“—But that’s not what it was, Heath. Just like you said: no one could ever replace your brother.”
Heath choked on his next words. “Then . . . why? Why did she need you there? Why did she see you as William?”
Will pressed his forehead and against the back of Heath’s head and breathed in both his clean hair and his confusion.
“Not as a replacement, Heath. She just wanted—needed—a chance to say good bye.” He kissed his hair and spoke softly. “You were all robbed of that. She saw me as a way of getting that back. That’s all she wanted. Just to say good bye. And today, she did. She said her good bye to William.”
He felt Heath shake under him and when he turned his face, tears spilled down his cheeks and over his nose. Will wiped them away, and Heath twisted around, grabbing him into a hug.
“Who’d”—he stopped to take in a breath, calming himself from sobbing—“Who’d have thought this thing would crash and burn and you wouldn’t only survive it—you’d be the one to quench it, too?” Heath kissed him, his lips salty and gentle. “Thank you.”
Heath stood them both up and crushed Will against him again. After a few minutes, they broke apart, Heath laughing at himself. “God, look at me. That can’t be pretty. Let me clean up and then we’ll figure out something for dinner.”
“Pretty?” Will called as Heath headed toward the bathroom. “You couldn’t be pretty if you tried.” Hot and handsome as hell, yes. But definitely not pretty.
“Just as well you’re pretty enough for the both of us then,” came Heath’s snarky reply.
Will grinned and searched the kitchen for something they could make. Thankfully Benny liked to cook and cupboards were stocked with stuff. He pulled down some pasta. Stick it in boiling water—he couldn’t go wrong with that.
Heath’s scuffling footsteps came up behind him. The pasta was plucked from his hand. “Yeeeah. Or we could just order in.”
“Oh God I love you,” he said spinning around and grabbing the phone from the wall. Then he heard what he said. “Ah, not really.” Actually, yes really. He may as well admit it, but after that moment on the sofa, he was a gonner. “Figure of speech, that’s all.” Shut up now!
He studied the numbers on the phone like they were the most fascinating buttons on earth. He was missing something. . . .
“Need a number?” Heath said, laughing as he grabbed the phone book.
That was it.
“What do we feel like?” Heath asked. “Indian? Italian? Chinese?”
“Nothing with garlic!”
Heath blinked at him.
“Or onions.”
“Why not. Garlic’s the best—and you’ve never complained about it before.”
“Yeah, but—”
Heath must have clicked, because that cheeky smirk came back. He took the phone off him and dialed a number.
“What’re you doing?” Will asked, but Heath left the room motioning him to stay put. At the end of his order, he came back in, looking at Will with a twinkle in his eye. “Yes, that’s correct. And throw in a garlic bread on the side.”
Will scowled. “Bastard.”
When dinner arrived, he made it first to the door and paid the delivery man. Heath laughed as Will hurried to the table and unpacked everything. There was a salad, with dressing in a separate container, some mashed potato, chicken legs, and the garlic bread.
“None of it has garlic or onions,” Heath said. “Well, except the bread, obviously. I won’t eat it, but”—he leaned over and kissed him—“I don’t care if you do. So, still a bastard?”
“Yep. You still made me think you’d ordered us every garlic item on the menu.”
Heath huffed. “Next time I will just.”
Will took about one bite of everything before he ditched his plate and swept all the leftovers into the fridge. Heath didn’t bother to ask what he was doing. He was more than smart enough to guess. And judging by the way he leapt off his chair and hurriedly rinsed their barely-used plates, he wanted to get to it just as much as Will did.
Heath dragged him into the bedroom and shut the door. “I want you out of these clothes,” he said, pressing heavy hands on Will’s shoulders and dragging them over his chest to the edge of his pullover, knuckles grazing his skin.
Will’s breath hitched and a shiver ran through him. He helped Heath strip him down to his briefs.
“Now your turn.” He took off Heath’s t-shirt and rolled one nipple between his fingers and thumb. Heath gave a sharp intake of breath at the touch.
“Wow, you have cold fingers,” Heath said and clutched Will’s hands between his and blew gently. Warm breath breezed over their fingers. “That’s better.”
The act had been so simple and yet so intimate. He pressed himself against Heath, feeling the surge of desire between them and kissed him hard.
Heath hooked his thumbs in Will’s briefs, drew them down slowly and eased them over his hips and erection. Their gazes locked as Heath’s hands glided down over his legs removing the last of Will’s clothing. “You won’t be needing those for a while.”
Will pushed him back just enough to snap open Heath’s jeans. “The only thing I want covering you, is me.”
Heath claimed his lips, plunging his tongue into his mouth and pushing him back against the mattress. The possessiveness and haste of the kiss left him breathless; he had never aroused such passion in anyone before. He gave as good as he got, leaving no part of Heath’s mouth unexplored. “Bet you’re glad we didn’t have garlic now.”
Heath pulled back just enough and started biting his neck, his lips and teeth trailing towards his chest. “Babe, you could eat all the garlic and onions you wanted. I’d still fuck your beautiful mouth with my tongue.”
A bolt of erotic current sliced through him, and he arched into Heath, pressing their hot bodies together, trapping their hard erections against each other. Heath groaned and lowered his weight onto him, sliding down slowly to bite, suck, and tease his nipples.
It took all his effort to roll Heath over to give him the same treatment. Only, instead of teasing his nipples, Will worked his way up his inner thighs, biting, sucking, until, just at the Holy Grail, Heath pulled him up. “You do crazy things to me, Will. But damn, I don’t think I could last long if you used that magical mouth of yours on me. Not this time around.”
And wham, he was back under Heath.
“I do remember promising to slobber all over you,” he said.
Will laughed, taken out of the moment. “That sounds so disgusting.”
But he wasn’t laughing for long. Damn! Heath ran his tongue in swirls, circles and lines over the ‘v’ at his hips. He whispered, hot breath taunting the wet trails over his skin. “Turn over.”
He was about ready to melt—no—to shatter into ribbons of come, so he was glad they were finally getting down to business. He turned over onto his knees, reaching for the lube and condoms and passing them back. Heath took them and they landed next to them on the bed. “Not yet.”
“Do you want me to beg?”
Heath slapped his ass and then kissed it. “Let me service you a little more first. Warm you up some.”
“If I get any hotter, you’ll need sunscreen—”
But his thought was lost in a burst of sensation as Heath spread his cheeks and licked him, flicking his tongue against his ring before plunging into him.
The intensity built up, his body responding to the sweet caress of his tongue. God, at this rate he wouldn’t last much longer.
It came as a relief to hear the condom pack ripping. Drops landed on the back of his thighs as Heath prepared the lube, the coolness a welcome relief to the heat of their bodies.
Heath pulled Will’s hair and Will pushed himself back, eager to feel Heath inside him, but Heath stilled him. “I’ll come right away if you do that.”
He groaned and finally Heath brought his cock to his entrance, nudging him. Each small thrust teased him and he struggled not to move. Slowly, Heath sunk deep into him. His body received him, complaining only briefly at the intrusion. Heath held himself still, took Will’s cock in hand and pumped him as he bit into his shoulder. The sparks of pain morphed into pleasure. He felt owned, worshipped, and he loved it.
“Perfect,” Heath said, kissing the spot he’d sunk his teeth into before drawing out and entering him again.
They moved together in sync. Will pushed back into him, demanding, greedy for more. Heath pressed in deep, withdrew, did it again, and again.
And oh fuck yes, again!
Each pump built up inside of him until he couldn’t see or hear anything. He had no idea what he was saying. All he could concentrate on was the feel of their bodies moving together. It felt so damn good. They were so right together.
Heath tightened his grip on Will’s cock and it tipped him over the edge. He stilled and cried out as he came. Heath thrust once more and came too, then collapsed on him, kissing his neck and shoulder and smoothing the hair he’d pulled. Will smiled. He could stay like this forever.
Heath began slipping out, and rolled off him. “Still a bastard?”
“I’ll upgrade you to hell-sexy bastard.”
Heath grinned. “You were amazing.”
Will moved off the wet patch on the sheets, he hadn’t come so hard in—well—maybe ever. “Wish it wasn’t quite so messy, though. Or noisy,” he added, flushing, when trapped air gurgled its way out of him. “I hate this part of sex.” He got up and hobbled out to the bathroom, trying to hold the rest of it in.
Heath’s laugh followed him. And so did he, apparently, because suddenly Heath was speaking to him through the bathroom door. “I thought we had this conversation. You don’t need to be embarrassed. It happens. So what? I don’t care.”
Flushing the toilet, he used the sound to let the rest of the air out. He didn’t care how cool Heath was with it. It was going to take him a little time to let things just flow freely. He washed his hands and yanked open the door to a stunningly naked Heath.
“If you prefer,” Heath said, sliding his hands up the door frame and leering, “it can be me it only happens to, and I’ll deal with it.”
Will’s hands twitched to touch him, grab him, rein him in. He could almost go again. Well, soon, anyway. “No, I like you fucking me, so it damn well better happen again. Just because I hate the clean up, doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.” He found himself slinking closer to Heath until they were meshed together again. Yeah, that felt right. “And what you did to me. That was so worth it.”
After taking a shower together and exploring each other more, they finally headed to bed.
“T-shirts are in the drawers over there,” he said to Heath while he stripped the bed and changed the sheets. Glancing at the bedside clock, he noted it was ten to twelve. Their Cinderella hour had approached. Good thing they were both exhausted. Benny and James left for work around seven thirty in the morning—the perfect amount of time to recharge.
“Huh,” Heath said, pulling out and checking all his drawers. “You don’t have many clothes here.”
“Not much point in accumulating,” he said, the thought crashing him down from his high. “Can only take fifty pounds in the suitcase.”
“Oh, okay,” Heath continued to rummage until he’d found two shirts they could wear to bed.
Oh, okay? That was all he got? Will yanked up the sheet, pulling taut until there were no creases.
“What are your plans after you finish your degree?” he said—blurted, perhaps.
“Whoa, where’d that come from?”
He snatched the shirt Heath had set out for him and pulled it on. “I was just”—trying to make you think about the future. About us and the future. God he was pushy. He chastised himself and tried to change his tone—“thinking about it. . . . I’m curious. Would you do a Masters?” Could you see yourself in a serious relationship? Would you pick your life up and move if you met The One?
Because he was beginning to think he would. He’d give up everything to be there at the end of the world with him.
And that scared him. Because how did he know this time it was right? How’d he know it wouldn’t be Karl all over again?
“So, do you have any idea?”
Heath shook his head, and his next words hurt: “Guess I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
He should accept it and move on. Only his big mouth was running away from his control again. “You don’t ever think about your future?”
Heath sighed and climbed into the freshly made bed. He pulled Will in too, and wrapped him up, close to his chest. “The last couple of years have been about living day-by-day,” he kissed his neck, “only now I’m starting to look in terms of the next semester. But any further than that is too far.”
Will shoved down a sigh, which even to him would’ve sounded petulant. What he had with Heath was great, he should—and would—enjoy it. He’d back off a bit with talks of the future, and give the guy time. His mind wandered to a cheese commercial he’d seen on television, and he relaxed, feeling secure and comforted in Heath’s arms again.
Good things take time.
Yeah. He’d give it the time it needed to be good. Really, really good.
* * *
He ditched a lot of work the next couple of days, and there was little to no clothing between them until Monday morning came, and he knew he had to get back to reality.
Find some type of work-sex life balance.
He was half-way across campus when it started to pour. He’d never understand New Zealand weather. It was right as rain—er, it was summer-like one moment, than in the next, it was back to winter.
Ahead he caught Candice shaking her Mickey Mouse umbrella.
“Need a hand there?” he asked coming up to her.
“It broke. Right when I needed it.”
He herded her toward the Link to keep from getting too wet, though somehow Candice looked like she’d caught the worst of it.
“I reckon we need some coffee,” he said, “what do you say? My shout.”
“You’re like the best coffee machine I ever had. You should really consider doing your doctorate here.”
“Just so you don’t run out of coffee?”
“I’m that selfish.”
With their coffees, they decided to brave the weather and race to the Commerce building. Only once they’d hit the elevators, it hit him that in all the drama, he’d completely forgotten to tell Candice they had a flat she could move into as soon as Benny and James left to explore the big bad world.
“So you can finally get out of your current place,” he said as the elevators dinged and he and Candice emerged on the eleventh floor, Mickey Mouse Monstrosity in his hand between them.
Sig, in his Monday wizarding attire, looked up at them as they came in, his smile growing when he took in Candice and her wet hair. She placed her coffee on the corner of the desk and motioned with her bad arm for him to drop the umbrella in the bin. “It broke,” she said to Sig’s unspoken question.
Will said a silent good bye to the Monstrosity and let it clatter into the bin. Heath’ll be shattered.
Candice swung back to him. “This is great news, Will. I can’t wait.”
“Can’t wait for what?” Eric asked, coming in soaked behind them.
Wringing her hair over the bin, Candice continued, “It works out really well too, because Rory doesn’t seem happy, either.” At Rory’s name, Eric froze a second, before hurrying to his desk. “He never goes to classes anymore and seems to sleep all day until his shift at Macaroons. He stopped drinking, though. He mentioned something about maybe moving back home for a bit. And Doug is going on an overseas exchange. The landlord wants to rent out to international students anyway. So, yeah. A place to move into would work. Awesome.”
“No.” The word was loud and adamant, and Sig stood as he said it.
“No?” Candice repeated, letting go of her hair.
“That’s right. No.”
“You’ll have to explain yourself more than that,” she said as he strode over to them.
“I don’t want you moving in with Will.”
“Hey, what’s wrong with me?” He plunked himself into his desk chair.
“Where would we start with that?” Eric threw at him.
“Guys, cut it,” Candice growled at them. “Sig?”
“I don’t want you moving in with Will, because I want you to move in with me. Please?”
It looked like Candice wanted to throw her arms around Sig and laugh and cry, but instead, she bounced on the balls of her feet, struggling to bite back a smile. “Isn’t that jumping the gun a bit?”
“I want to jump this gun.”
Her arms started swinging. Any moment now . . .
“Why?” she asked.
“That’s something I’d rather not answer with these big ears around.”
“Hey! They’re not that big,” Will scoffed.
Candice cocked her head. “Why?”
Sig met her gaze, tenderly, filled with warmth. “Because I love you.”
Whoosh! She was on him, legs wrapping around his waist, opening Sig’s robe, and arms around his neck.
Will turned away, but caught their reflection in the window. It was bad, but he couldn’t help feeling a little resentful at how quickly and easily the ‘L’ word came up between them.
Sig spun Candice and gently brought her feet to the ground.
He blinked and tried to look past them to the world outside. There were so many relationships in the world, and each was different. It didn’t mean he and Heath had to say the word already. Even if he did feel it.
Crazy speak! It was fine for Candice and Sig. They’d know each other for years.
He’d known Heath only months.
Months.
And Heath didn’t plan any further into the future than finishing his degree.
Good things take time, he said to himself.
He just had to remember it.