Exhale by Sophia Soames

LEO

So, did our fairy tale pan out? Did I live happily ever after with the supermodel who turned up at Gardener Grove station that Saturday afternoon last spring?

Of course, I didn’t, because life didn’t work that way. Love wasn’t found on Grindr, and people didn’t just fall in love over a Diet Coke in a rundown branch of Costa somewhere in South London. But feelings sometimes had a way of playing you for a fool, and a fool I certainly was.

Twenty-four hours later, he’d left me ugly crying, drained and distraught after a crazy marathon of sex and sweat and laughter, at that very same station. I’d fallen in love with Jamie Walters, just as he’d said I would. He kissed me goodbye with promises of non-stop texting and happily-ever-afters, laughing as I entered his number in my phone as Prince Charming and he changed my name to My Dragon-Slaying Princeling in his contacts. Once his train left the station, my heart completely broke, just as it always did. I didn’t trust my belief in him and all his tall tales, and I didn’t trust my own feelings. I knew where I was heading. Straight into heartbreak and despair.

Jamie was as perfect as he’d insisted he wasn’t. He said he loved me and made me smile with every little word that so carelessly spilled from his mouth. His laughter made my body sing. His touches and kisses birthed butterflies in my stomach that wouldn’t go away. I’d floated on promises of a future with him, yet now I couldn’t even remember what he smelled like. I missed the feeling of his hand in mine, his lips on my skin, his fingers in my hair. We’d slept in late that morning, spooned like two entwined souls unable to survive more than a few minutes apart. His body hadn’t left mine for those last precious hours, clinging to me as I had clung to him. I’d hung off his back as he moved around my tiny flat. I’d sat on his lap whenever he took a seat at my desk. And of course, we’d spent most of our short encounter horizontal in bed, mostly with different body parts inside one another.

I’d loved it. Every insane second.

He texted me as he’d promised, every morning and night. Long rants with big words that had me giggling as I read them out loud, hoping that hearing them would make them more real. It didn’t. I doubted every one of them as they’d tumbled out of my mouth. I clung to the hope he’d turn up on my doorstep and sweep me off my feet. I daydreamed of his distant castle, wishing he’d make good on the promised fairy tale that would never be my life. Those kinds of stories only happened to other people—to movie stars and no doubt on Netflix. Jazzed-up stories of true love that could never happen to someone as ordinary and plain as me.

We’d talked about fitting into boxes. He said he wanted to fit into something that he could comfortably call his own, while I’d ranted about how I felt splintered, compartmentalised into traits which, taken together, made me someone who wasn’t easy to understand. He’d assured me he had no trouble understanding me and told me I was easy to love. All lies that now sat uncomfortably in my stomach, mocking me. If I’d been all those things, he’d be here whispering them in my ear, not hiding from me and ignoring my messages.

The following weekend came and went, with neither of us seemingly brave enough to commit to another encounter. My insecurities played up like demons in my head. His texts became shorter and more polite. Mine went from essays to single-word answers. I was heartbroken and frightened, worried that one wrong word would cut off my only line of contact. I looked for him on Grindr, fearing the worst, but his profile was nowhere to be found, our messages left in a box marked account deleted.

By week three, my grief turned to anger, my once-carefree self now filled with ideas I knew would never lead to anything good. I wanted to scream, to ring him and shout out all the anger and frustration brewing inside of me. I wanted to text him until he was forced to reply. I wanted him to say those words I dreaded. Better still, say them to my face so I at least knew where I stood. Then my world would truly break apart. I just wanted to see him one last time. I wanted to smell his skin so I could remember his scent. Comb my fingers through his hair. Hear his gruff voice for one final fleeting moment.

Our now bland communications were not enough to fill the giant void he’d left, but I didn’t dare to phone him, fearing the rejection of him not picking up. I’d been burnt before by my stupid impulsive actions—longwinded text rants, passive aggressive threats. I knew not to behave that way, but my compulsion to confront him was hard to control. I wanted to throw myself on a train and go find him, somehow get him to see sense, to see that what we’d had was worth fighting for. He was my prince, and I’d bloody slay any dragon standing in my way.

My nightmares escalated, becoming horrific scenes where he was back with his ex or he’d met someone else, and I’d wake up screaming with pictures of him laughing in my face stuck in my head. This was different from before. I could handle being dumped. What I couldn’t handle was not knowing what was going on. I needed answers, so I could move on. I needed it to stop. Fuck. I needed him.

Then came Friday. He’d last texted me on Wednesday, just some stupid meme and meaningless words about cars and work, and now I was truly, blindingly angry. It was irrational, I knew, but he’d made promises. He’d not said anything about break-ups or going back on his word. In theory, he was still mine, and therefore…

I’d packed a small bag with essentials and was currently standing in my hallway as Hulk meowed at me and stared at the bag in questioning disgust. I had nobody to feed him for a potential pipedream of an overnight stay, something that should have stopped me in my tracks. Instead, I grabbed his bedding and stuffed it into the bag, then I pulled down the dusty travelling cage from my wardrobe and pushed a reluctant Hulk inside it, whispering apologies as I closed the mesh door behind him. He meowed in distress as I burst into tears, wondering how I’d let myself get dragged into this mess, because I’d been here before. I’d suffered more heartbreak than I could keep track of, yet I never learned my lesson. I was back to where I’d promised I would never be again, slobbering snot on my sleeve and wishing someone would tell me how to deal when your body couldn’t function.

He’d promised. He’d so gallantly promised he would love me forever, so why the hell wasn’t he here when I needed him most? Of course, I knew the answer to that one. Nobody needed a pathetic limpet like me. Nobody wanted someone as co-dependent and controlling as I was, and nobody in their right mind wanted to live the way I needed them to. I wasn’t good on my own. I needed to be exactly what he’d called it: one half of a whole. I was only half a person, and he was my perfect other half. Surely, he must have felt it just like I had. He must have meant all those pretty words, and I needed to know that. I needed the validation that I was something to him, or had been, because he was someone to me, and I didn’t want to lose him. The two of us, we bloody fitted together perfectly, and I wanted more. More than he’d ever know I could give him. I wanted everything. The whole fairy tale. Every word he’d promised me, I would hold him to them, because that’s who I was. I took and took and took, and I needed, and he…

I was being ridiculous, but I had to believe. If I didn’t, I may as well just climb up a ladder and throw myself into whatever realm awaited me, because without hope, what did I have left? Another couple of weeks of maddening heartbreak during which I would forget any redeeming qualities left in my already fragile self-confidence.

I grabbed another holdall, rearranging my packing so I could fit Hulk’s empty tray, a fresh bag of litter, a few cans of food and his favourite toy. I hadn’t taken him anywhere for years, not since Mum moved away. But here I was, hoping he’d behave and not cause a scene despite still thrashing around in his cage in distress. Double-locking my front door, I struggled down the stairs, looking like a fool with both bags slung over my shoulder and a screeching cat in a too-small cage. I should have waited and bought him a bigger one, but I didn’t want to daydream anymore. I was already so tense and terrified that my shoulders ached and my eyes stung with tears I was unable to control.

But I did it. I walked, awkwardly, overwhelmed by my bags and the invisible burden on my shoulders, and I somehow boarded a train heading in his direction. I found an empty seat and sat with Hulk scratching around in the cage on my lap.

It was afternoon, so the train wasn’t busy, meaning I was left in peace, just me and my chaotic thoughts. I knew his address because it’d come up in conversation. I knew which Tube station he used. I knew the area and the roads because I’d looked it up on Google Maps. I could already picture the walk in my head, but I still scrolled through the routes on my phone. By the time I reached his station, I was shaking as all the possible scenarios played out in my head. This was exactly the kind of behaviour that had got me into trouble in the past. People didn’t like surprise visits from former one-night stands who couldn’t take a hint. Nobody enjoyed a crazy stalker. People had a right to privacy, and people definitely had a right to say no. He hadn’t said no, not in actual words, but I did know how to read the bigger picture. I wasn’t so dumb as to not notice the clear writing on the wall.

Still, Thorpeton Green Tube station looked eerily familiar as I dragged myself and my bulky belongings off the train. I took a deep breath before rearranging my things, with the bags crossed over my chest, holding Hulk close with both arms so he would stay calm while I negotiated the stairs up to the street. It probably made me look like a homeless hobo, and I cringed when I realised I hadn’t changed my clothes. I was still in a pair of dirty joggers with a hoodie that had seen better days. I’d even slept in these clothes last night, clinging to the last pillowcase that still smelled faintly of a weekend Jamie probably didn’t even remember anymore.

At least I knew where I was and practically walked on autopilot past street signs with names I’d memorised, leafy gardens up one side of the road, neat rows of terraces on the other. People milling around on bicycles and those annoying electric scooters. Couples with children going about their lives as if nothing was wrong in the world. A pub with outdoor seating, full of cheerful souls celebrating the end of another working week. Typical London scenery, in other words, and in the midst of it all, my cat and me, wondering what on earth my life had come to.

I didn’t feel like a dragon-slaying princeling on a rescue mission anymore. I felt like a troublesome child throwing yet another irrational tantrum.

But here I was, standing on the bottom step leading up to the house that I knew was his. A rusted, wreck of a small car sat in the remnants of what might once have been a well-kept garden. The front door was painted a weird shade of violet that stood out against the others in the road. It was just as Jamie had described it to me.

Before my bravery ran out, I knocked on the purple door and felt my heart beating hard against my ribs, a huge lump at the back of my throat. My mouth was dry, and I couldn’t make myself swallow. Hulk meowed in distress, clawing at the mesh of his cage. I shouldn’t have done this. I shouldn’t have once again put myself in this ridiculous situation, but my heart worked in mysterious ways, and I—

And there she was. The woman who filled me with dread, casually standing in the doorway with a questioning look on her beautiful face. She was exactly like I’d imagined. Too gorgeous, too perfect. Everything Jamie had described, and everything I would never be.

From within the masses of curls, she smiled, and it lit up the world as she reached out, taking a tentative step towards me.

“Leo,” she said softly. “You are Leo, right?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, my chest vibrating with panic.

“Thank god for that.” She sighed and took the cage from me, then motioned for me to follow her inside. I did. I had no choice now.

She called out for someone, closing the door behind us as we walked into the house. It was plain. Normal. A large kitchen with a massive table surrounded by mismatched chairs painted every colour under the sun. There was warmth from the sun shining through the window. Photographs and drawings on the fridge screamed family right in my face while I stood in my own pathetic, obvious solitude. Lifting my bags from my shoulders, I let them drop to the floor as a young girl came skipping down the hallway. She stopped to stare at me curiously.

“This is Leo,” the woman said. “This is Jamie’s Leo.”

“That means lion,” the girl replied.

“It’s the same in French,” I said, my voice stronger than I’d thought it would be. “Le lion. Or la lionne if it’s a lioness.”

She repeated the words with a cheeky grin on her face. Then she spotted Hulk in his cage and immediately started cooing over him. He sat there, seemingly stunned to silence by this girl, who gently and expertly set his carry cage on the wooden floor and opened the door, offering her hand in greeting with no hesitance at all. Surprisingly, he took a step outside, sniffing her fingers and looking around for a place to hide. The girl laughed and launched into a million questions that I failed to grasp let alone answer. My legs no longer able to hold my weight in my exhausted and bewildered state, I pulled out a chair and sat.

“I’m Kizzy,” the woman said, taking a seat next to me. “But I think you already know that.”

“I should leave. I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to do.”

“No, no, no. You should stay.” Her tone made me sit up and pay attention. “You need to talk some sense into Jamie. He’s so besotted with you that he can’t think straight, and I can see why. You’re just as gorgeous as he said you were. He’s been a total mess, and here you are. You’re staying. Want a cup of tea?”

“Are…you back together?” I asked, my bravery making a bid to reinstate itself. I wasn’t having this bullshit. None of it. I was worth more. I was worth my Prince Charming and my bloody happy ending, and I didn’t deserve to be anyone’s idea of a joke.

“No, God no. I look after Olive every Friday. That’s our girly time, isn’t it, Olive?”

“Girly Fridays,” the girl—Olive—agreed. “Sometimes we go to the cinema. Once, we went out for dinner at a restaurant, just Kiz and me, like proper grown-ups. Can we go there again sometime?”

“We can,” Kizzy said, looking over at me. “Tea?”

“Please. Black, two sugars.” I was a fool with no backbone. No strength. I felt completely out of place. This was probably my biggest mistake ever. One I would regret for the rest of my life.

“What’s your cat’s name?” Olive asked. Even if Kizzy hadn’t mentioned it, I’d memorised his siblings names, ages and habits. Everything he’d told me was etched into my brain. Olive’s cheeky grin was the same as his, which made my chest ache. It was bewildering how I could remember all those details, yet I couldn’t remember the scent of his hair or how it felt against my fingers.

“Hulk,” I said. Overwhelmed and anxious to the max, I was suddenly too warm in the bright kitchen and clumsily pulled off my hoodie, then sat there sporting a threadbare t-shirt, tugging the fabric uneasily around my awkward body.

“Cool! Like in the Marvel films? Hi, Hulk!! I’m Olive. shall we be friends? Can he live in my room? I can make space, but then he might get lonely. Has he got a litter tray? My friend has a cat. They have a litter tray.”

I let her chatter on and accepted the cup of tea placed into my hands, drinking the too-hot liquid in greedy gulps, hoping it would calm me down.

“Can I speak to you?” Kizzy asked quietly, ignoring Olive’s chatter, as Hulk was happily keeping her busy on the floor. “Like, honest talk?”

“Yeah,” came out of my mouth. Because the truth was better than nothing. Anything was better with nothing. She could throw me out with harsh words at this point, and I would have been grateful for at least knowing where I stood.

“Jamie is always second-guessing himself. That’s just the way he is. He doubts and worries and sinks deeper and deeper into these huge holes he digs for himself. Holes so deep he doesn’t know how to get out. You’ll understand once you get to know him better. But he’s the most wonderful man I know, and if you ever break his heart, I will come for you. That’s a promise, by the way—a real one.”

The smile on my face felt more like a frightening grimace. But Kizzy smiled back and took my hand as she continued.

“Jamie thinks you’re special. Special enough that he’s sitting at the bottom of some massive, deep-arse hole right now. Please don’t be angry with him. He’s not doing this to hurt you, and I know you’re hurt. I can see it in your eyes. You’re angry with me too, because you think I’m fencing you out of his life. I’m not, I promise you, Leo, dearest Leo. So listen, and listen well. You have nothing to fear from me.”

She looked honest as well, her face full of concern. She looked kind and I somehow didn’t know how to deal with that. So, I sipped the scalding tea with lips that stung, and just nodded at her steady flow of words.

“As for Jamie… I’ve never seen him like this. He’s so obsessed with you, and the idea of the two of you, that his head is a muddle of conflicting thoughts. He worries that you don’t feel as strongly about what happened between you as he does. He’s not sleeping because he misses you. He rambles on about never being enough for someone as perfect as you. He talks about you every day. Wonders if you’ll text him back if he texts you. Imagines you’ve met someone else. I keep telling him to trust his instincts. When he said you were a good egg, I believed him, and here you are. With a cat.”

“With a cat,” I said, strangely grinning. Or perhaps it was just my burning lips. I felt insane. I felt out of control. I was a fool. An epic fool. “I have nobody to feed him, and I’m hoping Jamie will let me stay…for the weekend. I don’t know. I kind of foolishly invited myself over, but—”

“Stay,” Kizzy insisted. “Olive, Leo’s having a sleepover with Jamie. That’ll be fun, won’t it?”

“And Hulkie too. Hulkie, are you having a sleepover?” Olive cooed over my cat, who looked as if he was staying even if I wasn’t. Or was I? I honestly didn’t know what was going on at this point.

Kizzy giggled, still holding onto my hand. “I hope you and I can be friends, perhaps even that I can be some kind of support to you. And I honestly hope you won’t mind me talking to Jamie all the time. He’s my best friend. I can’t think of anything worse than him finding a partner who won’t let me be part of his life. We’re family, and I hope we always will be.”

“He loves you,” I said, hoping I wasn’t speaking out of turn, especially with the little sister in the room.

“I know, and I love him too. But he loves you differently, and you need to remember that. There’s so much love in that boy’s heart, you’re incredibly lucky to have found him, because he will make you happy. I know he will.”

“Because I’m a good egg?” I asked with another grin. It was a strange, old-fashioned expression, but I kind of liked it.

“The best!” She smiled. Then the front door opened, followed by cheers, laughter and banging as the kitchen filled with people—a bunch of smiling men who greeted me with handshakes and pats on the back as I stood up and gave my name. They hugged and kissed Kizzy, one of them lifting Olive off the floor to swing her up on his hip, even though she was clearly far too grown up to be carried like that. The one called Luke was a different version of Jamie, and the younger one, Toby, had his brother’s chin and curls. They were all gorgeous creatures who shared Jamie’s smile except the blonde one with the man bun, who looked strangely familiar, even though I couldn’t place where I’d seen him before. I figured he had to be Ryan, Luke’s partner.

“You’re the famous Leo then,” Luke said, smiling at me with Olive still perched on his hip.

“Suppose,” I replied weakly. I didn’t know where to look or what to say. I felt so out of place and awkward with my half-drunk tea in my hand. Caffeine made me sick, and my body was already protesting. Fuck everything. Over and over.

“Welcome to the family.” Luke sat himself down at the table, letting Olive crawl into his lap. “I promise, we’re all super nice. Apart from grumpy Olive here.” That earned him a thump from his little sister. Playful swats that he fought with kisses on her cheek. “But mate, yeah, we’re good people. Shout if you need something and make yourself at home. If you use the last of the milk, just grab another bottle from the corner shop. And most importantly, don’t let Olive trick you into buying her sweets.”

“I like sweets.” Olive pouted. “Ryan always lets me have sweets.”

“I don’t!” Ryan said, and I realised he had Hulk in his arms. A content, happy Hulk, and if I wasn’t mistaken, the traitorous cat was purring as Ryan gently scratched his neck. “Love this cat. You can stay, mate.”

“His name is Hulk,” I said.

“Like in the Marvel films,” Olive filled in, jumping up to help spoil my cat. He rarely purred for me. Now, though? He was almost as loud as Olive. “I think we should get him a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. We should have another cat, and we can name it Harley Quinn.”

“Seriously?” Luke laughed. “We can barely look after ourselves, Olive, and we’re going to have two cats?”

“Well, we now have a cat! We have a pet!” Olive squealed, gently taking Hulk out of Ryan’s arms. “I have a pet! I have a pet!” She sang as Luke just grinned at me.

“What have you done, Leo? You realise you’ll have to move in now? Olive will never let you take that cat away from her.”

“She can be my cat sitter,” I joked. These people—they were strangely…fine. Perhaps? I was caught in a fragile bubble of acceptance, waiting for it to burst. Things had gone far too well, and my mind was still struggling to process all those words playing on a loop in my head.

There was laughter and chatter, polite conversation and curious stares. I downed the last of my tea, hoping I could borrow the toilet to try to calm my nerves, at the same time willing Hulk would behave and not make a run for some hiding place where I wouldn’t be able to find him if I had to leave in a rush. Like, if Jamie came back and things became too awkward to deal with. There was a vibe in the air I couldn’t shift, a fear in my chest threatening to overwhelm me.

And then the door swung open again, and there he was.

He was just as beautiful as I remembered, despite his dirty T-shirt and utility work shorts. There was a speck of oil on his cheek and dirt under his nails. His hair was bundled into a messy ponytail.

My heart was beating faster than I could handle. He just stood there, staring at me like he was looking at a ghost. His bottom lip was quivering, though, and his hands wouldn’t keep still.

“Babe,” Kizzy said and then gasped when Jamie, my poor Jamie, burst into tears. He took a few awkward steps towards me and fell to his knees, burying his face in my lap with his arms around my waist. Long, drawn-out sobs echoed around the room as everyone cleared out, leaving me with my hands tangled in his hair, my fingers trembling against his scalp as my eyes filled with stupid tears.

“Jamie?” I said softly. “I’m so sorry. I just wanted to see you.”

That was not what I’d planned to say. I’d scripted a speech on my way here, harsh words full of ultimatums and threats. I’d wanted him to make good on all those things he’d so carelessly promised me, and I was going to sternly negotiate commitments. Yet now I was here, I didn’t care anymore. I wanted this. Him with his head in my lap and me leaning over so I could smell his hair, his tears seeping through my joggers while his body did little awkward hiccups against my legs, and I realised the truth of Kizzy’s words. I recognised this feeling of being stuck in a hole, dug in by your own fragile thoughts. I knew how he felt, because my hole was right here, next to his, and I needed to get us both back on the surface, back on terra firma so we could start over on level ground.

I could hear talking from the room next door, small bursts of laughter mixed with Olive’s excited shrieks. I had no idea where my cat was, but I hoped Kizzy had it all under control. It was funny how I was already seeing her as a friend, my jealousy and rage seeping away as Jamie looked up at me, all tears and blush and honesty.

“I’m sorry. I was a little overwhelmed to find you here. I thought about asking you to come, and then I bloody chickened out. Thought you’d think I was coming on too strong or something. I mean, I just…”

“Three weeks, Jamie.” I smiled. “It’s been three bloody weeks.”

“I know. I bloody know, and it’s been hell. I started doubted every fucking thing in my head. I thought you… I don’t know what I’m doing, and I got so freaking scared.”

“I can’t do three weeks without you.” I couldn’t believe how stern I was being, talking to him like this, like I believed every word I was saying. But I did because it was the truth.

“I want to see you all the time,” I said. “And anyway, it’s only eight stops and one change on the Tube to get here. I can easily get up earlier in the morning to get to uni on time. And you can do the same. It’s a small price to pay to have you near me.”

“True.” He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand before burying his face in my stomach again. “Fucking missed you so much. Let’s never be apart for this long again. I was just…you know. Shit scared that I’d mess this up. Kiz told me I was being stupid, but I’m not always…brave.”

“Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you have to be brave.” I blushed at my words. This fairy-tale shit hadn’t worked out too well the first time around, and here I was again, not having learned a single lesson.

“I want to be braver,” he whispered. Then he looked up at me, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe, because I knew he was mine and I was his, and fuck the whole idea of what people were supposed to be.

“I’m Prince Leo, and I’m here to rescue you with my trusty cat,” I went on, spluttering with laughter. “That’s what usually happens in fairy tales, isn’t it? I’ve come to save you, and now I have, you’ll have to be mine forever.”

“Is that how this story goes?” His face was wet with emotion, his voice barely there, but his smile was back, and my heart jolted as I bent down to steal a kiss. His mouth was as soft as I remembered. My lips stung as I nipped at his, again and again and again.

“Well, I had to come and try. How else would we live happily ever after? Did I do good?”

“You really brought the cat?”

“Had no one to feed him, did I? And anyway, I didn’t think seeing you for just the evening wouldn’t be enough. I knew I’d want to stay the night once I got here. I want to wake up next to you. I want to lie in bed with you, and we can watch those series or whatever, you know. Netflix and stuff. I just don’t want to be alone when you’re here—”

“I’m right here.”

“And I quite like your family.” I smiled, tilting his face up with my fingers so I could look at him properly. He was too beautiful for his own good. Too handsome. Too wonderful and overwhelmingly mine as I leant down and kissed him. He kissed me back this time, crawling up until he was on my lap, his breath mingling with mine, lips curling up into a smile as I rubbed my nose against his. Laughter bubbled in my chest.

“Leo,” he mused. “Leo, Leo, Leo.”

“We good?” I asked, hoping he would agree.

“More than good.” He exhaled, blowing hot breath into my neck as he held me, rocking me slowly against his chest. I closed my eyes and let him, trying to memorise his every word, every breath. The way his clothes smelled. The way his hair felt between my fingers.

“Stay,” he said, leaning back so he could look me in the eye. “Please stay.”

There was a simple honesty in his words, and however much my anxious brain wanted to doubt them, I didn’t. Dinner was being laid out around us, human beings milling about, shouty conversations and laughter cushioning us in the small bubble that seemed to keep me calm, a thin imaginary shield that muffled everything so that the only words I could hear were his. He was telling me about his day, and I was barely able to make sense of his language, too obsessed with memorising the patterns of freckles on his cheek, the three small lines at the corner of his eye, his long, thick lashes that put those dreadful falsies to shame with their natural beauty.

I couldn’t have told you what we had for dinner. My head was too far into the cloud of fluff that Jamie had created. I know I tipped over my glass of water during the meal and tried awkwardly to help clear up afterwards before getting ushered out of the room by the remaining brother, who’d turned up with his girlfriend at some point. Aaron, his name was. He told me sternly it was his night to clear the kitchen and could I kindly get his oversexed brother out of the room and stop humping the kitchen table?

Not that I knew what he meant, but my leg kept jumping with nerves. Maybe it was that. I couldn’t stay still unless Jamie was holding me, and chief among my mounting concerns was the fact I hadn’t seen Hulk since before dinner.

“He’s asleep on Olive’s bed,” Jamie murmured, wrapping his arms around me. “Wanna take a shower?”

“What?!” I hissed, still struggling to compute the world around me.

“You and me. Hot shower. Soap. Sex. Things like that?”

I wasn’t sure I liked that idea, but apparently my mouth did, smiling like the traitorous thing it was.

“I’m still terrified,” I confessed into his hands, kissing his fingertips. I couldn’t believe I’d pulled this off. That I was here, and he wanted me here, and that things looked better than they had this morning. Way better. Especially with him kissing my neck and begging me to spend the night in his bed.

I wasn’t going anywhere. I’d already told him that.

The bathroom was nothing spectacular. White tiled walls housed a standard shower that was spilling out a comforting amount of steam as Jamie stepped away from the taps and pulled his hair free of the elastic band, which he carelessly dropped in the sink. He was still fully clothed, and I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Pulling his T-shirt over his head, he leant back against the opposite wall, just looking at me with a little smile on his face. “You’re here. I still can’t get my head around it.”

“I’m a bit concerned that your… Is Kizzy still here?”

“Everyone is busy with stuff, honestly. Nobody minds you staying, and the shower is running so…you know. Tends to muffle those little sounds.”

“What kind of little sounds?” I teased, knowing full well what his crinkly eyes were suggesting. His hand disappeared into his jeans pocket, pulling something out that he brought up to his face, sniffing it gently before holding it out to me.

“I’ve had this with me since I left. I just, you know. Couldn’t let go. It was the only little thing I had that smelled like you. It smells funny now, though, so I should probably wash it.”

He’d kept my manties. Like a kinky little freak.

“You’re disgusting.” My laughter was too loud and blush too real. “I’ll leave you a clean pair when I go back to uni on Monday, but you can have the real thing now since I’m right here.”

“So…I can sniff you?” And there went his jeans, the fabric falling around his socked feet, leaving him in just a pair of green briefs with some stupid pineapple pattern that had me muffling another nervous giggle.

“Any time,” I said. “Think I probably stink right now. Sorry about that.” I was trying to be slow and seductive but ended up getting my chin stuck in my t-shirt before I ripped it over my head. There. Topless and definitely a little smelly, I sniffed my own armpit. Jamie laughed.

“I don’t mind what you smell like. Just want to stand here for a second and look at you.”

I was more than happy to stand here too, letting the calm wash over me, both of us bare-chested, facing each other through the building steam.

“I decided on my box,” he said, almost like he was tasting the words. “I’ve decided to just stick with being me. Fuck everything else. Nothing else seems to fit me now. I’m not straight and not gay and not pan-bi-sexual anything. I’m just going to be Jamie who has a boyfriend and refuse to tick any of those stupid boxes. Whatever people decide to think about that, well, I don’t really care anymore. I always thought it was important, but since I met you, I don’t think it is.”

“There’s usually a box to tick ‘refuse to answer’ or something on those kinds of forms. People fall in love, Jamie. It’s not like they can help who they fall in love with. You fell in love with Kizzy. Now…maybe it’s me.”

I hated that I doubted those words. That I couldn’t just put myself straight. That I hadn’t said: Now, it’s me. You’re in love with me, Jamie.

“I’m in love with you, Leo. Don’t you dare doubt that. We may be doing this in completely the wrong way, but I really don’t care. Nobody has the right to tell us how to do this. I want to be ridiculous and insane and throw myself into a relationship with you right now on our second date. We’re going to crash and burn, more than once, I don’t doubt that. I mean, look how we messed this up? Yet we’re still here.”

“We are,” I agreed, smiling. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, crossing them over my chest. I wanted to touch him, but in a way, just watching was nice. Taking him in. Drinking in that chest. Shoulders. Arms. The softness of his stomach. The small dimple in his chin. “Do you know what box I’ll tick from now on?” I asked with another silly grin, content with the feeling of peace slowly trickling back into my system.

“Gay? You said you’d always known. Has that changed?”

“No.” It hadn’t. I knew who I was, and that had always been a small source of comfort. “I’m going to tick the box that says Jamie. Because I belong with you, whatever happens now. You and me. That hasn’t changed. Not one bit.”

“Good.” He blew out. “I like that. You tick me and I’ll tick you back.”

“Tick the Leo box. Because that is who you are. You’re my guy. Work for you?”

“Works for me.” He smiled softly, his fingers running down over his belly and settling awkwardly with playing with the hem of his underpants.

“Pineapples.”

“I have watermelon ones too, if you find pineapples offensive.”

“Pineapples are never offensive. Not keen on all those avocado patterns though.”

“I’ve got avocado socks.”

“I might have to hide those then.”

“I can pretend they’re Luke’s.”

“Ha-ha.”

“I’ll stick them in your bag, and you’ll get to uni on Monday and dig out your laptop, only to find my terrible socks stuck against the screen.”

“Is it weird that I’d find that funny?”

“Nah. It’s no funnier than the fact that I’ve been walking around with your dirty manties in my pocket for weeks. I’m kind of obsessed with them now, getting all hot just thinking about what you might be wearing under those joggers. If they’re pink, I might just disgrace myself and come in my pants.”

“Sounds hot,” I mused, licking my lips. Because it would be.

“You’re so bloody gorgeous.”

“You know what would be hot?” I said, surprised how easily we were falling back into our own little brand of banter. Silly nonsense that made us both smile.

“Tell me.” He adjusted himself in those pineapple monstrosities. They were definitely offensive, especially now his dick was straining through the fabric.

“Stand there and just watch me. I’m going to get my dick out and rub one out. I’m going to stand here and make myself come all over these manties, just from staring at your chest and knowing there’s a sizeable bulge in your underpants. Whaddaya think? Hot?”

Now his hand was creeping down inside his underwear, and yeah. Top of dick poking over the hem. Hand. He liked the idea. I didn’t need to add up the blush on his cheek or the smile on his lips. Nor the fact that he was now stroking himself while I was gently lowering my joggers.

I was wearing mint green, soft, pretty manties with lace trim, thong style at the back to show off my bum. I wish I’d just chosen them at random, but I didn’t work that way. I knew how good I looked in these, how the colour complemented my skin. These were my killer hook-up manties, and they were fine. They made me feel incredibly fine.

“Fuck,” he whispered as I turned around in a clumsy little circle so he could inspect my choice of lingerie.

“Thought it might be your cup of tea.” I casually combed my fingers through my hair, then grabbed my junk. Because manties like these? Yeah. Pretty when not erect. Not so much when your dick was escaping out the side.

“Do it. Please.” He was a little glassy-eyed and fully hard, his underwear having joined his jeans on the floor, and now he was trying to get out of his socks using his toes, and the water was still running and…fuck. He was flustered and turned on, and it was all because of me.

“Jamie,” I whined, leaning back against the cool tiles. I could easily come from watching him. Just a couple of strokes with him watching me back and I would be spilling all over his fine bathroom floor. But I wanted more.

“So pretty.” He huffed, closing his eyes for a second, head back. His neck strained, showing off those veins, and his mouth hung slack as his hand flew over his length, twisting on each turn around the glistening head. I’d missed him more than I’d ever be able to describe. The dampness in his hair. The blush on his chest. The way his nipples were tight little buds, those muscles and the shape of his arms. The way he was so close. I remembered how he bit his bottom lip just before his orgasm claimed him. He was doing it now. Staring at me with wonder in his eyes that I knew. I could tell. He was… Oh. Oh. Yes.

I hadn’t even realised how close I’d been myself, but there I was, doubling over with a groan, shooting stripes of come across the small space. A speck of white hit his hip as I moved in and went for him.

I knew I’d said we’d rub one out. This was supposed to be single-handed, individual, masturbation fun. An opening of foreplay to the main act of full-on intercourse that I had every intention of performing, dessert consisting of an exhausting round of oral before we fell asleep in a haze of sex-fuelled laughter. I had plans, and they were already going straight to hell. A good hell. My kind of heaven and hell where my head had exploded from a self-inflicted orgasm that had shot every inch of sense out of my dick.

“You are so my cup of tea,” he breathed into my mouth as I tried to kiss him and missed, instead biting down on the stubble on his cheek. I tried to find something to ground me—my nails in his chest, my leg climbing his hip, his hands on my arse, his tongue deep down in throat.

“That was… Fuck…” I tried to speak, but I think my tongue had blown up along with the rest of me. RIP Leo, deceased former boyfriend of the most handsome man on Earth. One part of a definite whole. Well, as long as he kept putting me back together with his shushing and stroking my back and his lips on my skin. Small mercies in a seemingly endless disaster.

“Leo, my darling, beautiful Leo. What the hell was I thinking, staying away from you for so long?”

“Fuck you,” I panted out.

“Absolutely. You are fucking me later, I can guarantee that. I have one hell of a needy hole ready to be lubed up for your unlimited use and pleasure.”

“That makes me sound like some kind of—”

“Spoilt prince? Yeah. You are. You can have anything you want, Your Highness.”

“Just you,” I said into his neck, hanging on to him like I was drowning.

I almost did when he dragged me under the jet of heat, but then he began cleaning my body with careful movements. He shampooed my hair and combed it through with a princess-themed comb that was pink with little jewels down the side. I couldn’t help but laugh when he fastened it into his wet mop of hair.

It didn’t matter what we called ourselves—my prince and me, my one and only everything in this world. He was all that mattered right now.

“We’ll be fine,” he said. I could just make out his smile through the soapsuds, which he rinsed away with a blast of water then shut off the shower. We stepped out, suddenly awkward again, and he grabbed a towel from the rack, attempting to wrap us both in it. It was far too small, but it didn’t matter. He had me and I had him.

“We’ll be fine,” I repeated, sounding more convinced with every syllable. “You and me.”

“Of course. You and me. Jamie and Leo.”

“Leo and Jamie.”

“Please don’t leave. You never have to. Stay with me, for a bit? Just so we can give this a chance. Get to know each other properly. I don’t want to be on my own, like you said. Not when you’re right here. Please? Just stay, maybe the week. For me.”

“A week? You want me here the whole week?”

“Whatever. Stay two. A month? However long you’d like.”

“One day at a time.” I smiled.

“Forever.” He smiled back. “Happily, ever after.”