I'm beating around the bush, taking the scenic route home, walking as slow as humanly possible and now I'm attempting to sneak into my own flat. I turn the key in the lock and close the door quietly behind me. I know it's pointless, the door squeaks, has done since before we moved in.
Amy looks away from the telly when the noise from the door shrills throughout the flat, she's sat on the sofa drinking a cup of tea. The place is unusually quiet, it's past the kids bed time so I can't even use them as a distraction.
"You're late." She comments, turning off the telly and the holding up a second cup of tea. "It will have gone cold by now, but it will do."
I take my seat next to her, sipping on stale lukewarm tea. There's no getting out of this one.
"I want all the details." She smiles, barely holding in her excitement.
"What?" I still try at playing dumb.
"Well you know all about my miserable love life, lets move onto yours. Dish!"
"Nope, there's nothing to tell."
I can feel my heart racing a bit, hands getting clammy around the mug handle and I know my voice is anything but calm.
"Wow, you must really like her – or – be really, really embarrassed."
"Why?"
"Because everybody loves telling an ex when they've found someone new. Especially when that ex was just so tragically dumped."
I go to say something, my lips parting repeatedly before I can make up a defence. Instead I get up, head for the kitchen to buy time. "Well maybe I'm a changed man, aren't I?" I say with my back to her, pouring the bitter tea down the sink.
Amy follows me through to the kitchen. "Who changed ya?" She asks inquisitively.
"Nobody." I answer quickly.
"Does nobody have a name?"
"Whatever is happening in my life is insignificant compared to what you've been through." I still don't turn to look at her, instead I rinse out the cup and tidy the kitchen counter.
"So there is something happening." I can hear the smile in her voice as she playfully pokes at my waist. "Ste you don't have to walk on eggshells around me, on account of Josh Ashworth stomping all over my heart. You deserve to be happy, I want you to be happy." She says more seriously.
I can't believe how lucky I am to still have Amy as my mate. After everything I put her through she lets me be in her and the kids lives. Even now when she's had a miserable couple of months after Josh breaking it off with her, she's still here for me. A smile spreads across my face, I can't help it. For once we have enough money to live on, I have Amy and the kids and now Brendan.
"Yes, okay! There is sort of something going on." I admit, finally turning to face her.
"That's brilliant." She squeals, clapping like a seal.
"You're getting ahead of yourself now, right."
She is, because I don't even know if it's brilliant. I feel brilliant, more than brilliant but I don't know about Brendan. I understand why we're keeping us a secrete, but I still haven't really worked out if there is an 'us'.
"I'm being serious, I'm really happy for you."
Amy's words hit me smack in the face. All I can say is, 'Cheers' because I'm not sure there is anything to be happy about. This guy that I really like, simply lusts over my body. He is becoming my priority while I'm just one of his options.
"You had dinner yet?" I ask changing the subject.
"Didn't really fancy fish fingers, chips and beans with the kids, especially when I live with a master chef."
"I'm hardly a master chef. Anyway, I'm dead tired, me. Don't feel up to cooking much."
"I'll order a pizza?"
"Nah, Tony's still giving me staff discount. Guilty conscience."
"The least he can do, the way he just dropped you-"
"Well it all turned out for the best." It's the only reason I'm still in Brendan's life. "The usual?" Amy nods. "Be back in a min."
{~}
I still feel awkward walking though Il Gnosh after the way I was so publically and humiliatingly let go. I see the familiar faces of waiters and waitresses, Theresa McQueen behind the bar and the new commis chef through the kitchen hatch. But I walk through with my head high, because I'm in no place to turn down discounted food.
After I've placed my order I wait by the bar, I swivel the bar stool so I'm sat facing the tables. I look around at people I know from the village, couples, families, regular club goers who have come to line their bellies first. To one side I see Mitzeee and Brendan's sister, Cheryl sat playing what seems like an intensely, vicious staring competition.
Cheryl has a face like thunder, while Mitzeee's nose is slightly scrunch like there's a bad smell in the air. Cheryl's eye flick toward my direction, then she does a double take, her face softening when she recognises me.
"Hello love." She bellows across the restaurant.
"Hiya." I reply awkwardly, the volume of my voice wavering because I know how Tony likes to create a "sophisticated ambiance".
She waves me over with an enormous smile on her face. I hesitate mid way though taking a seat when I notice a tumbler of whiskey at the other empty seat. Brendan must be here, I look around but there's no sight of him.
"He's popped to the loo." Cheryl cuts through with an answer to my unspoken question.
"Don't want to be spending time with the boss out side of work?" Mitzeee adds.
"Something like that."
Cheryl laughs, kindly rubbing my hand.
"Don't look so worried, our Bren is a big softy really."
"Like a teddy bear." Mitzeee adds.
Well this is me, poking the bear because he will not be happy to see me sat here.
The expression on my face must still be one of worry, seeing that her words have not soothed me in any way Cheryl tells me anecdotes about their life. I can't help but laugh, she's a wild one and I can't stop the flutter of my heart when she tells me about Brendan getting her out of all sorts of trouble.
Cheryl's mood has totally shifted from what I witnessed, all of earlier hostility to her brother's girlfriend forgotten. I look over at Mitzeee, sexy and done up to the nines and I feel jealous. Because she is his girlfriend, they do the things couples do, she's special to him. And I know it's fake, all for show but the rest of the word doesn't.
I know what everyone else thinks doesn't matter, but I suddenly can't stand her.
Cheryl draws back my attention when she mentions the name 'Eileen', Brendan once let her name slip then changed the subject immediately. I figured she's his wife, a part of his life that I have never been privy to.
I'm all ears now.
But before I can learn any more information about the life Brendan had lived in Ireland with his wife he's taking his seat. Cheryl turn's to him still giggling, filling him in on the story she's been telling. It's like he doesn't even hear her. He's just staring at me, almost trying to communicate with me through extremely subtle facial ticks.
He's not happy.
I imagine him turning from the soft, kind and cuddly teddy bear – the one that we are some of the only people who have had the honour of experience – to a cold, thoughtless and scary grizzly bear. The Brendan Brady the world knows.
"Here to pick up me tea." I quickly offer up an explanation for my presence. "Treat for Amy."
I smile and receive a small miss-it-if-you-blink, lope sided grin in return.
I've tamed the tiger.
I think I'm mixing metaphors.
"That smell, what is it?"
I look to my side to see Mitzeee leaning into my personal space. I slowly shift away from her, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. That smell is Brendan, well part of him – I'm missing the gum and whiskey. But I used his shower gel and shampoo, and then sprayed by self with his expensive aftershave when his back was turned.
"Just me shower gel." I lie.
I spent the day enjoying the sudden wafts of Brendan Brady I could smell on myself, reveling in it. Now, looking into Mitzeee's unsure eyes I regret it.
Almost.
"It's seems familiar." She's still scanning me, like she searching my soul. "Amy, she your girlfriend?"
The sudden change in topic is off putting.
"No." But maybe that's the wrong answer, I should make it clear that I've been with women. "We used to be together. She's the mother of me kids and we all live together, but now we're best mates."
"I think that's enough with the twenty questions Mitz." Brendan interrupts. "Poor lad just came in to pick up his dinner."
"Yeah, you don't want to scare off Brendan's best worker." I hear Cheryl say.
"You have been a great little worker." Mitzeee comments, ignoring them both. "Always at the club late."
The observation sends a shiver straight down my back.
She knows.
I chance a look a Brendan, but he won't make eye contact with me.
"He even does wake up call for this one." Cheryl adds. "Found him at the flat in the wee hours of the morning getting my lazy brother out of bed." She says laughing, unaware of the tension or the unhelpful timing of her statement.
I'm thinking of ways to get out of this, I look to Brendan. One look from him will let me know if things will be okay, but he's not taken his eyes off of Mitzeee.
"Number six." Theresa calls out.
I look down at my receipt and for once lady luck is on my side.
"That's me." I inform the table.
I say my goodbyes, grab my bag full of food before basically running out of there.
{~}
When I get back indoors, Amy immediately starts to list the names of girls we know from the village. I should have known she wouldn't drop it so easily, my luck was short lived. Amy Barnes never stops till she gets her own way or has been told the full story.
She's like a woodpecker, peck, peck, pecking away.
"Anita?"
"Anita? No!"
"Rae?" I ignore her so she keeps on guessing. "That Ash, you know works at the club with you? No? Okay, is… is it a McQueen?"
"Yeah, you guessed right in the end."
"Which one? Which one?" She cries, over joyed.
"I've been getting it on with Myra, an't I."
"Congratulation's, when's the weeding?" She drones sarcastically.
"Can you just leave it now please?"
But of course she ignores me. "What about that blond that was at the club today?"
"Cheryl? No, she's Brendan's sister, only just moved to the village." Amy lets out a disappointed sigh. "You probably don't know them anyway." I tell her, purposely not using a pronoun.
"Maybe I should just ask around or just start following ya."
"Amy. I'll get a restraining order." I joke, trying to cover up my nerves.
I wouldn't put it past her to follow me around. Skulking around outside the club, sneaking in and spying on the two of us together down in the cellar.
"It's just someone that comes into the club sometimes." I offer as an easy excuse.
"And she makes you happy?"
"Yes." I reply, I don't even need to think about it.
"Well I'm dead pleased for ya." She says embracing me.
"Cheers."
"Happy that my best mate has found someone."
"Best mate?" I question. I've said it before but I didn't know she felt the same.
"No one knows me as well as you do."
"No ones how much of a screw up I am."
"No, you're not." She says genuinely. "Anyway this girl, maybe she will sort you out."
"It isn't a she." I blurt it out, I just can't keep lying to her.
"But you said… wait, I don't get it... if it isn't a she…"
"…Then it's a he." I finish, not able to look her in the eye. "I've been seeing a man."
After my revelation I look up to see Amy's reaction, the look on her face is one of shock. Her mouth hang wide enough to catch flies, eyes popping out of their sockets and eyebrows vanishing into her hairline. Amy walks into the living room area, with her back to me.
This is what I was afraid of.
"How is this even possible?"
The rejection.
"We've got kids."
The disgust.
"All the times, we uhm…" She coughs awkwardly, but I get the drift. "…Where you gay then?"
No.
Maybe?
I honestly don't know.
I guess I must have been.
"Oh my God, were it all fake?"
I didn't think so at the time.
"Was I a sham?"
"Course not." That I am certain of.
I really cared for Amy, loved her even. I still love her, she gave me my first real family.
"So you did fancy me then?" She asks insecurely.
But Amy has nothing to be insecure about, she was the hottest girl at school. Even a gay guy can she that she's bloody gorgeous.
Gay.
It hit's me suddenly. I've been sleeping with another man for over three months, I have seriously deep feelings for him, and I'm telling the closet person in the world to me about it.
This is me coming out.
I've been so fixated on Brendan hiding who he is, hiding me that I've not really come to terms with it myself.
Does this make me like proper gay?
"Yeah, I fancied you."
I'm sure of it, but I'm even more confused. Before I met Brendan I was a young father of two with a string of girlfriends. Well not a string, but a good few and I was definitely attracted to women. And now, I guess they're okay, I can see the appeal but I'm not really looking. Then again, I'm not really looking at anyone. It's only Brendan.
"And not just when I had hair like a boy?" Amy asks, smiling.
I smile back, I have to because I can see in her eye's that she's not rejecting me and she doesn't find me disgusting. It was just the initial shock.
"It's just that this is big. I'm kind of nervous."
She's nervous?
"And I'm not?"
I'm the one that has to figure out if he's fully gay, or bi or if it's just a Brendan Brady thing?
"Have you? You know." Amy probes slyly, voice hushed even though it's just the two of us.
I don't answer because it's dead embarrassing, but it makes me think of all the time that Brendan and I have been together. I can feel a smile threatening to grace my face and my cheeks are burning. This is all the answer Amy needs, resulting in an over excited gasp.
I raise my arms to cover my face, because this conversation is getting way too exposing.
{~}
Over dinner and cans of cider, Amy quizzes me about an array of "famous men and 'village hunks'. Her words not mine.
"Just eat your carbonara before it get's cold, will ya?"
"Okay, Okay. I get it."
She chuckles, absentmindedly twirling her fork around the spaghetti and I can tell she just bursting to say something.
"What is it?"
"Well first it was Craig, and now it's you. Us Barnes sisters are turning men all over the north west."
We both laugh at that.
Amy was the person I was most worried about telling, but she's made it easy. Listening and not freaking out on me.
"Thank you." I say earnestly.
"What for?"
"Just for being you and not treating me any differently."
{~} {~} {~} {~} {~} {~}
It had been a few days since Mitzeee had confronted me over Steven and my feelings for him, and she hasn't stopped with the endless reel of questions. On top of that things have been crazy at the club with John Paul's Gay Night, I haven't had a moment of peace in days. I'm starting to regret agreeing to this, it's only added fuel to the flame and ignited Mitzeee, with talks of self-acceptance and honesty.
But tonight's the night, I'm surround by of boxes of extra stock to make themed cocktails, there's a glitter ball hanging from the ceiling. It's going to happen whether I like it or not.
I've been hiding in my office all day, with absolutely nothing to do I fall asleep on the small sofa. I wake up abruptly from a dream where John Paul was living up to the McQueen name and had turned the place into a bathhouse. I should probably get out there and check he isn't having a podium assembled for a half naked gogo-dancer.
No podium. It's not so different to any other night, the glitter ball is scattering light all over the room, somebody's gotten the strobe light out of storage and there are a few rainbow flag banners.
The music is total and utter crap, which is saying something because I've never been fond of the rubbish my generation likes to bounce away to. I turn to John Paul's DJ booth to tell him to turn off this techno trance noise, but I'm stopped in my tracks.
They must not have noticed me entering to room. I clear my throat, which turns out to be a load cough to be heard over thumpa thumpa of the music. Finally they both look up at me like startled foxes, jumping away from each other.
"Brendan!" John Paul almost screeches out.
There's a pregnant pause, none of us quite knowing what to say. The look on both their faces, the sheer panic, it would be funny if this situation weren't so… wrong.
"I didn't see you there."
"Clearly not."
"Hello." The other man says, looking despairingly. "I'm -"
"Father Kieron. I've been to a few of your services."
"You're part of my congregation?" He nods his head, presumably processing how bad this all looks. "I haven't seen you at mass."
"I tend to sit at the back."
"Okay."
I have nothing more to add to this frivolous conversation, leading to another awkward silence.
"I'm going to get going, I'll be back before the doors open."
"Brendan, wait."
I don't turn, just keep walking but John Paul catches up with me half way down the balcony stairs and grabs hold of my arm."
"I can explain." He's noticeable frazzled.
"No need, really." I say, shaking out of his grasp to continue walking down the stares.
"I can't believe, you, of all people are being like this?"
"Like what?" As ask, stopping as he catches up to me in the courtyard.
"Judgmental." He accuses.
"You should get back in there to your … what is he? Your boyfriend." I spit out the word boyfriend with distain, in a mocking tone. "But be careful, staff will start arriving soon."
{-}
By the time I go back to the club the night is well under way. The place is heaving with bodies, there's a strong smell of liquor and sweat in the air and some techno beat blasting out of the speakers.
I'm glad I had the foresight to arrange extra staff, but they're still struggling with the large crowd of people gathering around the bar. I take off my jacket, roll up the sleeves of the shirt and help to serve. With tonight's clientele, I feel more comfortable behind the bar, doing something with my hands.
A few lads try it on with me, it feels me with paranoia, my neurosis has me thinking I'm emitting some kind of signal. But they're trying it on with everyone, making some of my male staff increasingly uncomfortable.
I look across at Steven, there's no discomfort there. He's having a ball, taking it all in is stride. Before I can really process it, Steven's overly accommodating service, John Paul is standing in front of me.
"I don't pay you to stand around."
"I'm entitled to a break." He snaps back.
"You want a drink?"
"Do I want a…" He shakes his head, exasperated. "No, I want, we need to talk about what you saw earlier."
"There's nothing to say." I answer, serving the guy next to him.
"You're not seriously being off with me about this?"
I stop momentarily to look him in the eye, showing him how serious I am.
"You're one to talk?" he retorts, accusation strong in his tone.
"And what does that mean?"
"What it means is you know all about secret relationships and sneaking about."
John Paul doesn't wait for a reply, he walks out onto the balcony and I follow, ready to have this out.
"At least we have a reason for not being honest." He continues.
"That's exactly my point, he's a Priest. A Priest." I repeat. "When the people in this village find out about the two of you and they will, you're going to be painted as the wayward, raging, homosexual who seduced and tainted the local Priest."
He's silent, but the look on his face tells me this thought has been plaguing his mind.
"Be careful." I say, repeating my earlier words but with new meaning. "Make sure it's worth it."
These are my parting words. I return to my office having no motivation to work behind the bar.
{~}
It's not long before Jacquie comes barging in.
"No need to knock."
"I think there's a problem." She tells me with a roll of her eyes, completely disregarding my mood.
"What is it?" I ask sitting up.
"We've had a few people pass out."
"If they're too drunk stop serving them and have one of the bouncers to kick 'em out, make sure they don't throw up in my club."
"No, I think half the people in a here are more than just drunk, if you get what I mean."
She means there are drugs in my club, which in it's self isn't unusual. It's a nightclub, there are always a handful of people completely off their faces. But for Jacquie to be concerned there's obviously a dealer using my club as his hunting ground.
"I'll sort it."
I look around the room, scanning every face until I find some that looks even a little bit suspicious. It doesn't take me long to find him, my head tilting instinctively as I'm overcome with both surprise and annoyance.
I take out my phone and dial his number.
"My office, now."
"Boss." He greets, closing the office door behind him.
"Douglas, what are you doing?" I ask calmly, with a smile on my face.
"Working."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He answers, looking unsure.
He takes a step back, I do the same, closing the gap.
"Remember when I was kind enough to give you this job?"
"Yeah."
"And told you how this was going to work?"
"Yeah." He squeaks.
"What did I say about my club?"
"It is off limits." He recites my words back to me.
"Yet here you are, selling drugs in my club. Am I missing something?"
"I know what you said, but it's been a goldmine out there for me tonight." He takes out a wad of cash from his pocket, looking a little too smug with himself for my liking.
I pick up the money, taking a quick count and he's right at this rate he'll have run through his first batch faster than I ever imagined. I pocket the cash. "Goldmine for me." I correct him.
"But, I've worked really hard for that."
There's bravery and defiance there that I admire, but if he's going to be working for me I better knock it out of him quickly.
"Dougie, Dougie." I laugh, placing light slaps across his cheek. "If I see you in here again you'll lose more than a few hundred." I grab him by the collar of his jacket, and pin him to the wall. "Do not sell drugs at in my club. Do. You. Understand. Me?"
"Yes, yes I understand."
"Good." I let go, realigning his clothing. "Good lad."
I step back, creating just enough space for him to move. But just before his escape I have a thought.
"Douglas."
He stops, head dropping, defeated.
"Yes?"
"Where's my cut from tonight."
"What?" He quakes, spinning round in panic.
"I supply you with a product, you sell on said product, keeping 20% for yourself. Where's my 80% from tonight?"
"But… but?"
"But, but, but, what?" I mock.
"You took all the money I made."
"Lets think of that as a fine for being stupid enough to bring drugs into my club. I still want my percentage."
"Where am I supposed to get that sort of money from?"
"Not my problem." I step forward, entering his personal space once again. "You still owe me." I stab my index finger in to his shoulder, fear radiating throughout his face with every word.
{~}
Once I've dealt with the Douglas problem I take a minute out to survey the club, make sure everything is in order. I look towards the bar, checking the staff is coping and that's when I see them.
Steven with a tall, black guy in a tight t-shirt and a number one buzz cut. I observe them for a moment, deep in conversation, the guy leaning over the bar and Steven is laughing at whatever it is he is saying. He measures out a couple of double vodkas, after a count down they both chuck them back quickly. Steven immediately coughs, never was able to handle spirits straight. As he continues to cough, eyes watering and laughing in embarrassment the guy leans even farther over the bar placing his hand on Steven's arm, touching his bear skin.
I don't even realise that I am reacting until I am standing behind Steven, face to face with this gap-toothed chancer. From close up I can stand the guy even less. The goofy grin, overly worked on body, wondering eyes and the way Steven is completely engrossed in him. Hasn't even noticed my presences.
"I don't pay you to stand around talking to customers, drinking my stock."
"Sorry my fault, I bought Ste a cheeky drink. A thank you for his hospitality." The moron defends Steven, grinning at me. "Best barman I've ever had the pleasure of having." He's smirking at Steven now, voice dripping with innuendo.
I want to rip his face off.
"Steven my office, now."
"Wha-"
Steven begins to speak, but I walk off not giving him the chance. He follows me in, closing the door behind him.
"What's up?" He inquires, all smiles.
"What was that?" I get straight to the point, surprised by my own fury.
"What was what?"
"Out there, you and that guy."
"Oh, the drinking I know. But I'm having a banging night, me."
He slides his hands on the inside of my suite jacket, stroking up and down my flank. I take hold of his wrists, removing his hands from me. 'Banging night', it gets me how comfortable he is around… those people.
"Don't you think you're being, I don't know? Overly friendly?"
"Maybe, but I'm raking in the tips. Just in time for Christmas, eh?"
"I think you're giving out the wrong impression." I explain, he's obviously not sensing my… concern.
"I'm just being nice to Noah, making sure he has a good time. You know, repeat business and all that."
I don't need that kind of repeat business.
"Noah is it? You know all the punters by name? Or jus the ones that flirt with you."
He smirks, a glint in his eye and I don't like it.
"Now that I think about it, he is kinda cute."
"Yeah if you're into bald headed, gaped toothed, muscle Marys."
"I was thinking more, clean cut, distinguished and buff. As well as tall, with lush dark skin like chocolate and well fit."
"Are you trying to wind me up?"
"Are you jealous?" He ask, grinning to himself.
"Jealous, of him?" I scoff, I can't help it, it's an involuntary reflex. "Have you seen my face?" I point at my face with both index fingers to prove my point.
"You are jealous." He confirms.
"No, I'm not. It's jus that he was all over you." I counter.
"Hardly."
Steven can be so naïve. He doesn't see it, how beautiful he is. How any guy would be jumping at the chance to spend a night with him. Taking any in that they can get, mistaking is natural, open and responsive nature for interest.
"Do you not trust me?" He questions, brown creased.
Trust.
I really don't like that word, I've never trusted anyone. It's not that I don't want to trust him, it's that if life has taught me anything it's to only trust myself.
"Right." He must read the uncertainty on my face. "You know what, when it comes to distrust, you don't have a monopoly."
"What?"
"John Paul?" He states.
"Really this, again?"
"Yes this. I saw you two, earlier having it out in the courtyard. Then before huddled out on the balcony. Talking all private like." He crosses his arms, stance off standish.
"We're mates. He's the resident DJ at my club. We jog together most morning. And he did organise this entire night. Funny that we have things to talk about." I bite back sarcastically.
"It looked a little more heavy than club business or a friendly chat."
"You've been watching me?"
"No. I just wanna know, I need to know what's going on between the two of you."
I exhale to calm myself, I'm tired of the constant accusations. I've never held myself accountable to any lad before, but I've made it clear to Steven more that once that it's only him. Still, it's not enough. Yet, I can see the insecurities behind his eye, how desperate he is for reassurance and I can't hold it against him.
"Steven, honestly we are just friends. That's the last time I'm going to say it."
"Okay. I believe you, but you know he fancies you, right?"
"No, he doesn't."
"Yeah he does." He looks at me like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "That morning after you let him spend the night at yours and I came to get the keys, he made it seem like you'd spent the night together."
I laugh at that, sounds like something he would do.
"He would have just been trying to wind you up."
"But why?" He questions with a furrowed brow. "Wait, does he know?"
"He figured it out."
"Right. So he knows you're gay, he's always hanging around but you don't think he's trying to get into you pants."
"No."
"I thought you were the smart one here."
"He knows about us, so you don't need to worry."
"Yeah, well he knew his last best mate had a girlfriend an'all, didn't stop him jumping in bed with him."
"If you must know he's seeing some one. He's really not a problem."
"He is, who?" Steven questions, obviously intrigued.
"I can't say."
"That bad is it? Another straight guy? This one married? Wife and kids hidden away somewhere?"
He looks at me hopeful for gossip, but I shake my head.
"Come on, just give me a clue."
"Sorry, not my secrete to tell."
"You said he knows about us right? Well people in relationships share everything, he'll know that."
Relationship.
There's that word.
"Good thing this isn't a relationship then."
His expression switches. "Right, so let me get this straight. John Paul who sleeps around with whoever he likes with not a care in the world who he might hurt-"
This makes me think, Steven could be describing me. I may never have had an affair with priest, but I've been selfish. When Eileen and I first got together I must have cheated with a different guy, a couple of different guys every weekend. There must have been hundreds of them. Back in Liverpool, Vinnie gave me a home, comfort and stability when I need it. I reward him by coming home late at night, lying next to him, sweaty with the smell of another lads.
I'm no better than John Paul, worse even.
"-Him you keep secrets for and defend, but for me you can't even admit what this really is."
For Steven I've been a better me, never even felt the need to look at anyone else. Why does he need more? Why is he always pushing me?
I roar, frustrated. "This, this isn't anything."
"Yeah, I'm starting to see that. I'm going back to work. Get back to Noah."
He slips out quickly, the look he gave me when he said that man's name I know he's just trying to get a reaction – and it works. I pick up my whiskey glass and throw it against the wall, shattering it to tiny pieces.
Okay so this chapter was always supposed to end with Brendan getting all jealous, Steven finding it cute, resulting in hot Stendan sex. But no matter how many scenarios I ran through my head, it just didn't work out that way. I wanted certain things to be said and I just couldn't find away for it to lead to a happy ending. I guess they are both too stubborn to give in. But not to worry, the night is still young and Ste's P.O.V is yet to come.
