A Long Way Back (Unfinished Business #2) - Barbara Elsborg Page 0,63
try to do the things he used to do before the fall: riding, cycling, surfing. He’d stop being a dick to Jonty. He’d be nice to Devan. Maybe he should go to the hotel reopening. Maybe he should go home for good.
With Ink.
His heart jumped when he remembered the hour or so they’d spent in the garden. That kiss… If he didn’t pull himself together and stop being such a grumpy git, Ink wouldn’t want to stick around. Tay had been slow to realise it, but Ink had brought sunshine back into his life.
WHEN TAY WOKE, IT WAS morning. Day four without codeine and he felt…not good, but not terrible. He rolled over and groaned when he saw Ink’s bruised face. Almost as if Ink sensed he was being watched, he opened his eyes.
“Sorry for being a dick,” Tay said. “I got rid of the tablets. And not by swallowing them.”
“Did you use my tried and patented mode of destruction? Chilli and mustard powder?”
“I invented one of my own. Crushed them in washing-up liquid. But I should have saved a couple of pills for you. How do you feel? All important bits in working order?”
Tay’s glance dropped to Ink’s crotch and he felt his cheeks heat. Why did I look there?
“I tried to stay awake last night and failed,” Tay blurted. “I was… I was frightened to sleep in case I woke and you were dead.”
“That might have been difficult to explain.”
“I’d have just told the police you wouldn’t cook me steak and chips. They’d have understood.”
Ink laughed, then sucked in a breath and screwed up his face. He gingerly pushed himself into a sitting position, pressing his hand to his side.
“I think we’re even then,” Ink said. “That first night off the codeine, I worried you might die. It says online those going cold turkey can feel suicidal. Don’t do anything stupid, will you? You’d piss off so many people if you did. All the doctors and nurses that looked after you when you were recovering. Your family. Me and Dog. Jonty.”
“I’m not suicidal. I feel like I have a lot to put right. I wish I could wind back the clock and start us all over again.”
“What would you have done differently?”
“Eaten that sausage roll in a very sexy way.”
“Oh fuck, don’t make me laugh.” Ink clutched his ribs. “I’ll feel better after a shower. Is there anything you want me to do first?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“Wow.” Ink gaped at him. “Good rather than fine? Shall I call your mum and tell her you’ve learned a new word?”
“Hmm.”
“You really feel okay?”
“Yep.” Not completely true.
WHILE INK WAS IN THE bathroom, Tay let Dog out, then made coffee, and laid the table for breakfast. He fancied poached eggs on toast and took the eggs from the fridge. It was the first time in a long while that he actually fancied something specific to eat. While he waited for Ink, he screwed up two sheets of kitchen paper and put them on the plates.
Ink came in looking a little pale, but smiled at Tay, then glanced at the table and gave a quiet laugh. “What are they?”
Tay glared. “Penguins.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Sit down and drink your coffee. Once I’ve showered, I’ll make breakfast. Do you like poached eggs on toast?”
“Only if they’re perfectly done.”
“Which would be?”
“A smooth, not-wispy ball of egg-white, wrapped around a soft yolk which gently spills out when you slice into it, lying on top of evenly browned granary toast, lightly spread with salted butter.”
Oh God, that sounds like something Jonty would say.
“In case you think I’ve been faking my homelessness,” Ink said, “I was once forced to read a recipe book out of boredom because there was nothing else in the squat and it was raining too hard to go out. Food porn.”
Tay was still smiling as he stepped into the shower. He didn’t feel completely right, though the symptoms of withdrawal were less intense. The stomach-churning nausea was intermittent rather than constant. He didn’t ache as badly as he had, but his head still throbbed. He’d have to learn to live with that.
His need for codeine had… He didn’t want to tempt fate and say it had vanished, because it hadn’t, but it had lessened in importance. No longer at the level of desperate, it had moved down several places on his must have list. He knew enough to understand that quitting the drug would leave him feeling low, but that wasn’t how he currently felt. He was unsettled,