be with Ink. For as long as he could.
They made love. A lot. In bed—or wherever they happened to be—and then, Tay felt Ink at his closest. When Ink touched him, pressed his mouth to him, when he felt Ink exhale against his ear and whisper how good Tay felt, how hot he was, how much he was needed, Tay felt loved. He loved Ink, but Tay held the words in his heart because he knew they’d add to the pressure Ink was feeling. Though somewhere inside him, Tay also worried that what he thought was love could be infatuation. He’d been innocent until Ink had touched him. His teenage years were far behind him, but he was acting like a teenager.
Is this love? Tay believed it was. So why didn’t he just say it?
Ink worried for Tay and for his family more than he did for himself and was too resigned to whatever fate he’d imagined lay ahead of him. Tay didn’t talk about the future because, like Ink, he was happier thinking it would be the one they wanted.
Happiness was being in each other’s arms. Happiness was a hand held, a kiss given, a smile shared, a joke told. Tay stored up his memories, tucked them away in a treasure chest in his head.
The Dunes weathered the possible storm. Nothing appeared in the press to link the hotel to Ink. Ink had not been there since the day Carter had turned up. Devan had tried to pay him for the day he’d half-worked, but Ink wouldn’t take the money. Devan and Jonty had been around to their place for meals a few times, but Ink was reluctant to go to theirs. Jonty was unhappy about that. But even Jonty gushing about the hot tub didn’t tempt Ink. Nothing should connect me to them, Ink had said.
The four of them had surfed together, but in a sea with many others. Devan had kite-boarded and taught Ink how to do it. Tay had watched in horror mixed with admiration at Ink’s fearlessness, worried there was some reckless streak emerging, some self-destructive impulse. But that day, after Ink had flown above the waves and landed without crashing, he’d seemed as if he’d had oxygen pumped through his veins, he was so alive. It was a taste of what Ink could be if he was given the chance.
“YOU NEED TO TELL YOUR parents before the magazine is published,” Ink said quietly.
Ink stood chewing his nails in the corner while Tay told them everything over Skype, silently begging them not to say something that would make Ink run.
“Oh, my goodness,” his mother’s voice was shaky.
“Ink’s innocent. I know he is.” Tay’s voice was not shaky. But his heart hammered. Please don’t say something that can’t be taken back.
“What a terrible thing,” his father said.
Which could be taken either way.
“Ink lost ten years of his childhood,” Tay said. “I—”
“His brother lost all of his,” said his father.
“And Ink grieves for him every day, but he did not do this. I won’t leave him. I want to be with him. I trust him. He’s saved my life. Twice.”
Ink stepped forward shaking his head.
“Twice?” His mother widened her eyes.
“In Covent Garden when he stood between me and a guy with the knife and got himself stabbed.”
“But—”
Tay didn’t let his mother finish. “And I was addicted to codeine.”
“What?” she gasped.
“I was getting it illegally, taking too much. I was on it when you went on the cruise. The reason I was out taking a walk when you’d called was because I needed money to pay my dealer. Ink stopped me taking it. He looked after me. I needed him then and I need him now.”
“Tay!”
“The only reason I’m fine now, is Ink. No wheelchair, no crutches, no drugs. I’m happy.” Almost.
“We should fly home,” she said.
“Please don’t. Everything is fine. Not fine. Good. Ink’s name isn’t used in the article in the magazine and his face isn’t shown fully, but I just wanted you to know because if anything does kick off after the magazine comes out, we’ll move from here.”
“Tay, you’re frightening me now,” she whispered.
“You’ll never lose me,” he said. “I love you both.” And I love Ink.
THE MAGAZINE FINALLY CAME OUT. Tay went to buy it and promised not to read it until he got back. On the cover was a photo of Ink on the beach with his hoodie on and his face mostly hidden. The headline was Lost Boys. Ink had already