Chapter 12

"Hey, are you busy?"

I looked up from the bike I was working on to find Monica there with a pack of food in her hand.

"I can take a break." I straightened up and cleaned my hands. "You know, you don't have to keep doing this. Shouldn't you be taking sandwiches to Lasse instead?"

She grinned. "I meet him for lunch sometimes. But you're my friend and he knows you're always going to be in my life, for the boys at the very least. So, how's Daniel?"

"Okay, I guess. He moved out on Tuesday." That had been three days ago, and I hadn't heard from him, except a text to say he'd forgotten a pair of shoes and he'd pick them up at the weekend.

"Do you miss him?"

"I suppose the place is quiet without him."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

I sighed and shoved a bite of sandwich into my mouth, so I didn't have to say anything for a minute. Monica stared at me in silence until I finished chewing and raised her eyebrows.

"What do you want me to say?" I grumbled.

"Remember when you were both at the house and the news said the killer had been caught? I asked if you cared about him."

"No, you stated it."

"And you said, 'not now.' Like we'd talk about it another time. You know you can."

"What's there to say? He's my friend. He stayed while he found a place to live and a job, and he has those now."

"But you'll still see him, won't you?"

I shrugged.

"Did something happen?"

"Like what?" My face grew hot and I put the sandwich aside. Another bite could possibly choke me.

"I don't know. Like with Torgny."

"You're not going to drop this, are you?"

"No, I'm not. You forget how well I know you. You feel a lot and you never talk until it's pried out of you. Remember when we first got together? I could see how you felt about me. It was in every look, and everything you did, but you wouldn't say anything in case I threw it back in your face."

"And why do you think that was? Huh?"

"Because you were rejected before, by someone who you thought was your friend. So, tell me about Daniel. Who else do you have to talk to about this stuff?"

"Something happened," I said before I could stop myself. Then I groaned and closed my eyes. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.

"When?"

"That night after he collapsed."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Did you have sex?"

"Jesus, Monica! No! It was just… it wasn't much. I slept with him because he was shaken up and we—well, you know. Played." My face burned.

Monica rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to embarrass you. I'm just trying to work out what's got you so upset. I highly doubt he woke up in the morning, insulted you, and told you to leave him alone."

"No, I woke up alone. He was rushing around getting ready for his job interview. He shot out of the house before I could say anything," I said.

"And what would you have said? Nothing. Petter, do you like him or not? The look on your face when he saw that news report and you wrapped your arms around him, told me you do. More than like him."

"For fuck's sake," I muttered.

"You want my opinion?"

"I'm sure I'll get it whether I do or not."

She smiled. "It's my guess that he more than likes you, too. He probably didn't expect whatever happened to happen, because you're straight. Or he thinks that's the case. So, he'll avoid talking about it, or having it get close to happening again, because he doesn't want to get hurt. Am I making sense to you?"

"Yes, all right? Yes."

"Can you imagine yourself with him?"

"Not really."

"Why? Because he's a guy and well, you're a Mobster. That would never do, would it?"

"No, because of—" I fucking hated talking about this shit. I wanted to die right there rather than say anything else, but what she said to me about Daniel kind of made sense and it made my heart skip. "Because if I do anything and I'm wrong—"

"You'll get hurt," Monica finished. "The pair of you are as bad as each other. Talk to him. At least invite him for a drink or something, or he could very well keep his distance now he's got his own place."

"And what do you think about it? If I was to be with—?"

"A man? It wouldn't bother me. Not at all. I want you to be happy, Petter. It doesn't matter if it's a guy that does that for you. We had a lot of happy years together. I thought maybe you were bi after you told me about Torgny, or it could have just been an experiment. Whatever. I wasn't worried about it because I knew you've never cheat or hurt me. But we're not married anymore. We're friends. I'm happy with Lasse. I want you to be happy with whoever and if that's Daniel, then great. He's amazing and the kids like him. Don't let him slip away if you want him."

"Shit," I mumbled.

Monica smiled and suddenly wrapped her arms around me, giving me a firm hug. "I love you, Petter. Talk to him. Maybe take a crowbar with you to wrench the words out of your mouth." She let go of me and laughed. "See you Sunday?"

"How about Saturday? It's about time the boys came to my place again."

"All right. Pick them up when you're ready." She left me alone.

I thought about what she said for the rest of the day. Was she right? Or was I about to make the biggest fool of myself and regret it? Was it worth the risk? Maybe I should wait around until he came to me, but was that likely? He may never make a move if he thought that night had been a one-off and that I didn't really want a man.

"Shit." I snatched up my phone and called Monica on her mobile. "I just remembered. He sent me a text to say he'll come round at the weekend to get something he left."

She laughed. "Let's just do Sunday lunch. You can have the boys next weekend instead."

"Okay. Great." I hung up and got back to work. It was going to be a long Friday night while I waited for him to come and pick up his shoes 'at the weekend.'

When I got home that evening, I couldn't be bothered to make myself anything to eat. I wasn't that hungry anyway. The persistent knot in my stomach made me feel as if I'd throw up if I ate. It was worse than before now I'd decided to say something to Daniel and risk making myself look like a complete dick. I paced around, tried to watch TV, and drank several beers. Then Ulrik called.

"You want to come over to ours for a drink?" he asked.

"I can't tonight, I'm busy," I lied. I'd be lousy company.

"Oh, the housemate. Sara read something about him after she talked to Monica. He's a queer. Did you know that?"

"What the hell does that matter?" I snapped. "He moved out anyway."

"At least you won't have to keep your back to the wall anymore," he said in a sneering tone, then laughed a little.

"Fuck off, Ulrik. I never realised you were such a bigot."

"That's nice. Look, Petter, just call me whenever." He hung up abruptly.

"Fuck," I muttered. I put the phone back in my pocket and went to the fridge to get another beer. Someone knocked on the door and I left the beer where it was, grumbling to myself as I went to find out who had dared interrupt my evening. Glowering, I yanked the door open. "Oh!"

"Were you expecting someone else?" Daniel asked. "I can come back some other time."

"No, I'm not expecting anyone. Come in. You don't have to knock, you know, you still have a key."

"I wouldn't feel right about walking in now I don't live here. I should give you the key back anyway." He closed the door and followed me down the hall. "I came to get my shoes."

"It's not the weekend yet," I pointed out gruffly.

"Look, I'll just go. I can see it's a bad time."

I spun around, cursing myself for sounding so unwelcoming and unpleasant. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I was about to have a beer. Do you want one?"

"If you don't mind me hanging around for a while," he said warily.

"I don't mind. I wanted to talk to you anyway." I grabbed two beers and passed him one. I'd never felt less like talking in my life, and that was saying something. "Give me your coat."

He shrugged out of the checked coat and I hung it up for him. When I entered the living room, he was sitting at one end of the couch. I sat in the middle, rather than at the other end. I couldn't think of how to start this. I wanted to spit the words out and get it over with, but he looked as uncomfortable as I felt, and I'd probably made him that way. "How's your new job going?" I asked instead.

"It's great." He relaxed and began to tell me about his office—he had his own—and a couple of his colleagues, and an article he'd already written for the paper. He was animated and funny, like when I first got to know him. Like he always was until we touched each other and spoiled things. Maybe I should leave things as they were. It was good like this. Why ruin it?

I smiled at him. "What about the car?"

Off he went again, with a detailed description of the powerful beast he was now driving. Its only failing was having lousy boot space to carry things he bought for his apartment. The Escalade had been much better for that.

"If you want anything picking up, just let me know. Or you can borrow my truck," I put in.

"Thanks, that'd be great. Have you been busy?"

It had only been a few days since he moved out, but almost two weeks since that night and we hadn't talked like this in that time. My pounding heart told me I still needed to bring the subject up, but fear of rejection stopped me every time I found a roughly suitable opportunity. A couple of hours ticked by and we started to run out of things to say.

"You said you wanted to talk to me," Daniel said suddenly, and met my eyes. "Was it only about how everything's going for me?"

I held his gaze for a few seconds until I lost my nerve, then looked down at my hands and fiddled with one of my rings. Damn it, Petter. Grow a pair, for fuck's sake, I thought. "No, that wasn't it," I managed to say. "It was about—" I licked my lips which had gone dry. "You know. What happened." I paused again and coughed. "Between us."

"Oh, well, you don't have to say anything. Really, don't worry about it. I know it was because I was a complete mess. I needed you and you were comforting me. I'd forgotten about it, to be honest," he babbled. I glanced up at him. I wasn't great at guessing what was going on in people's heads, but it was easy for even me to see that he was miserable.

"You really think comforting someone would make me come?" I blurted.

"Well, I—" He sighed. "No. I just didn't want to think it was anything else. Most people experiment when they're much younger, but I know you were with Monica for years and maybe didn't have the opportunity or didn't want it. I don't know. I thought, maybe it was something you wondered about and I was there and—" He paused and dragged a hand through his hair. "I can't be your experiment, Petter. I'd get too involved and I can do without getting hurt like that."

"Will you shut up and listen?" I huffed out a breath. "I hate talking about this shit, but here we are." I picked up my half empty beer can and drained it. "I'm not experimenting. I did that a long time ago, sort of inadvertently."

"What?" His eyes widened. "What happened?"

"I was nineteen. I had this friend, Torgny, a biker. We used to go to bike events—music festivals with camping. We went to one and had a few beers. I didn't drink much then and it went to my head. Then in the tent, I guess he thought he'd experiment with me. Or maybe he was just drunk and horny. I don't know. Some stuff happened." I flushed as I thought about it.

"He touched you?" Daniel prompted.

I grunted.

"You don't have to give me details. You got each other off, am I right?"

"Yes. Then he kissed me, and we went to sleep. In the morning he called me a faggot and cleared off, leaving me with all the gear to pack up, and having no clue what I'd done wrong. I tried calling him a week later, but he hung up. I never saw him again."

"Fucking hell," Daniel muttered. "What a bastard. Even if he freaked out over it, that's out of order."

"Well, that's how it was. I didn't do it again. I don't know what would have happened if he'd wanted to keep doing it. I don't think I was attracted to him. I liked what we did though. I was just shocked, I guess, and hurt that I lost my friend. I had a few casual things with girls. Then I met Monica."

"And you never thought about guys?"

"Not while I was with her. Not until I met you," I admitted.

"Are you attracted to me?"

"Yes." Finally, I looked at him again. "I'm not experimenting, Daniel. That night with you wasn't just fooling around. I wanted you. I'd been thinking about it for a while and trying not to. I was too gutless to make a move before then, in case you did the same thing Torgny did."

Now, he smiled, and reached out to slip his hand into mine. "I wouldn't have done that."

"But you couldn't get out of here fast enough in the morning."

"I was scared you'd hate for me for it. I couldn't bear to see you look at me in a different way to what you had been doing. So, I pretended it hadn't happened and you seemed to want to go along with that. So yeah. Here we are."

I grinned and squeezed his hand. "Here we are."