close my eyes at his heavy sigh. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” I manage to get through a tight throat. “He threw me out, and I don’t think we work together anymore.”
“What the fuck?” he says slowly. “Gabe, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I’d been aiming for insouciance, but my voice falters badly.
“Where are you?” he asks, breaking the heavy silence.
“In a taxi going to Vibe,” I say staunchly. “I’m going to get utterly pissed and find someone to fuck.”
“Are you really? Think very carefully.” His voice is low and soft and gentle and reminds me vividly of the night at uni when I’d woken from a nightmare and he’d comforted me. After that night I’d have done anything for him, but he would never take advantage. He’s never pressed me for more, only remained at my side, my best friend.
I straighten in the taxi’s backseat, trying to take Henry’s advice, measure my thoughts, and let the anger go. But my mind unhelpfully sends me a vivid image of Dylan and the way he looked this morning, gazing up at me while I moved inside him, his face soft and warm and intimate.
I slump in the seat again. I would devalue Dylan and those memories I cherish by fucking someone else. I exhale gustily as I face the truth. I don’t want to be with anyone else. I have zero interest in another man’s body. The only one I want, I just singlehandedly forced out of my life. The image of Dylan’s soft expression is suddenly replaced with the one I’d seen right before I’d left—hurt and confused because of what I’d done.
I gasp at the pain that tears through me. “Shit!” I mutter.
Henry hums. “Shall we go somewhere else?” he asks quietly.
“The Dorchester, please,” I say to the driver. I can’t go home. Dylan will be everywhere I look.
“I'll be there in half an hour,” Henry says softly.
Half an hour later, I stop pacing the hotel room when there’s a knock on the door. I lope over and open it, and Henry strolls in, dressed in jeans, a navy jumper, and Converse. His dark red hair is rumpled, and he looks exactly like the university student I met for the first time all those years ago.
I think back to the first time I’d met him. I’d just moved into our room at university, nervous and a little cross after having discovered I’d have a roommate. I’d requested a single, but anyone knowing the university system knows that sometimes it’s best not to. Some sadistic hall managers do exactly the opposite of the student requests made on their forms.
The door to our room opened, and Henry strolled in. His red hair was windblown, and his face was thin and young. He was accompanied by his mother carrying a suitcase, and his father, who was somewhat incongruously carrying just a tennis racket. A few seconds later, the student president of the halls lurched into the room, laden down with luggage like a packhorse. He half threw, half dropped the bags, and Henry’s dad patted him on the head. “Good boy,” he muttered as if the boy was a dog and slipped him a twenty-pound note.
Henry closed his eyes in mortification and sighed, and when he opened them, he saw me and gave me a wide, warm smile. My anger and nerves instantly melted, and I’ve never regretted that room cock-up, because it gave me one of the most important people in my life.
“You came,” I say now, sighing.
He smiles sadly. “Always, Gabe. I wish you’d get used to that.”
“Were you out?”
He makes a moue of disgust like he’s licking something sour. “Of course I bloody wasn’t. It’s Valentine’s Day. Why on earth would I take a man out to celebrate that? What about the night of romance spells ‘good sex and absolutely nothing else’ to you?”
I sigh. “We’re a real pair, aren’t we?”
He smiles and throws himself onto the sofa, picking up the room-service menu and studying it. I slowly sink down next to him and observe his handsome face. I find myself wondering about his disgust over celebrating Valentine’s Day. And, not for the first time, I’m curious about why he doesn’t try for something with Ivo.
Despite Henry’s protests, I’m sure that Ivo wants him. Why wouldn’t he? Henry is warm and loving and funny and stable in a way that I’ll never be. I asked him once why he wouldn’t try for more, but he just shrugged before giving me one