Short Stack - Lily Morton Page 0,19

into my car at the end of the day and the driver navigates the roads back to home and Dylan. I smile. Two things I never thought I’d have. Dylan and home. They go together like toast and butter.

I throw the door open, and the smile falls away. “What have you done to your fucking face?”

The love of my life shakes his head crossly. This is not an unknown occurrence. “Gabe, watch your language in front of Billy.”

I grimace as I see the figure of Asa’s little boy holding Dylan’s hand tightly.

“Shit.”

Dylan opens his mouth to remonstrate, but Billy stirs, giving me his wide, gappy grin that always makes me feel a tiny bit happy.

“It’s alright, Uncle Gabe. Jude said that word the other night too.”

“Did he?” I’m vastly entertained. I thought Jude was the next best thing to child-rearing since Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.

Billy nods earnestly. “Yes, I went into the bedroom, and he was lying on top of Daddy, and he said shit really, really loudly.”

“Oh my God,” Dylan mutters.

I grin widely. “This is so interesting. Carry on, Billy.”

Billy looks slightly concerned. “I don’t know why he said a naughty word. He was only lying on Daddy to keep him warm. I sit on Daddy’s feet in the lounge when he’s cold like I’m a chicken and I don’t say bad words.”

“I’m sure he was just surprised,” Dylan says hurriedly as Billy sounds like he’s getting slightly cross.

I look at Dylan. His voice sounds like he has cotton wool in his mouth, and I frown. “Why does your face look like you’ve got a watermelon in there?”

He rubs the side of his face that’s making him look rather like a chipmunk. I won’t tell him that, of course. For all his charm, Dylan is the snarkiest person that I’ve ever met in my life.

“I’ve broken my tooth,” he mumbles.

I cross instantly over to him and stroke golden-brown hair back from the high-cheek-boned face of the person I love most in this world.

“You don’t look so good,” I murmur, loving the way he nestles his face into my palm. The gesture is trusting and makes him look very young all of a sudden. “Alistair, ring my dentist, will you? Get Dylan an emergency appointment.”

“Please,” Dylan adds.

I nod obediently. “Please, Alistair.”

I can hear the smile in my assistant’s voice as he speaks into the phone.

I pull Dylan to the side. “How did you do it?”

He grimaces. “On the kernel inside a piece of popcorn.”

“Do you want anything?” I push him down onto the chair. “Can I get you something or do something?” I can hear the slightly nervy edge to my voice. I fucking hate it when Dylan is unwell. He has a personality and nature meant for sunshine and happiness and peace. Or rather sunshine and heavily weighted sarcasm.

He shakes his head, and a smile tilts the non-swollen side of his mouth. “I’m fine, Gabe. Don’t worry.”

Alistair puts the phone down and interrupts us. “He can see you in an hour, Dylan. Do you know where it is?”

He nods. “I picked Gabe up from there when he had his wisdom teeth out.”

I shudder. “Please don’t mention that again. I’m trying to forget.”

Dylan laughs. “How can I not mention the fact that when I arrived, you were sitting on the grass outside in your three-piece suit, singing a charming little song about a sailor from Bunt.”

Alistair laughs, and Dylan grins at him. The two of them have bonded rather unfortunately over me, and more precisely over the many piss-taking stories they have stored up. We’ve taken Alistair out a few times and each time, I’ve been forced to sit at the table while they laugh until they cry over rude stories about me. Then I have to put them into a car and ferry them home.

I drop into the chair in front of Alistair’s desk, and Billy sidles up next to me. “Will you sing that song to me, Uncle Gabe?”

I open my mouth, and Alistair and Dylan instantly stop laughing. I glare at them. “You can’t possibly think I was going to sing it?” Their silence speaks volumes, and I shake my head. “I can’t even remember the words. Which leads me to the conclusion that Dylan is lying through his backside.”

Dylan laughs, and to my consternation, Billy drops his brightly coloured backpack and climbs onto my lap. I sit back slightly, too stunned to do anything apart from put a hand onto his back so