And as she watched him leave, she wondered how one five-minute conversation could set her world on its head.
“Thirty-five days, twelve hours, sixteen minutes, four seconds.” Cerys said as he pulled the last of his things from the drawer. When he looked up again, she studied the countdown she’d started on her phone. And his. “That’s when I land at Manchester Airport. Don’t worry if you can’t come to the airport and get me because of gigs or whatever. I can always ask Mum to pick me up. And—”
He gripped her wrist and pulled her into his body, where she tucked in perfectly against his side. And fuck, he was going to miss the feel of that.
“I’ll be there,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “Nothing will stop me.”
“Well, I appreciate that, but I know you might end up having to—”
“Can you stop being so goddamn positive and cheerful? I feel like shit leaving you, and this Little Miss Sunshine thing you’ve got going on is starting to piss me off. Are you indifferent, or are you hiding how you’re feeling?”
Cerys looked up at him, her hands gripped his T-shirt. “Fine, it really fucking blows, and I’ll be crushed if you aren’t there when I land.”
He held her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. “Good. Because I’ve spent all morning packing thinking about how much I’m going to miss you, and you’ve been skipping around like this is easy.”
When tears filled the rims of her eyes, he felt it like a kick in the balls. “Oh, shit. No. I didn’t mean to upset you, either. Fuck me. It’s a fine line between being an adoring boyfriend and a dick. I feel like a fucking tightrope walker.”
Cerys blinked as she laughed, sending a single tear down her cheek, which did even more damage to his own emotions. He brushed it away with his thumb.
“I just . . . I didn’t want to be that clingy, weepy girlfriend with the lines of mascara down her face.”
“Who said you were my girlfriend?” he asked with a smile so she’d know he was teasing. Because, fuck, if that single tear turned into a downpour, he’d be fucked and have to stay in this room with her for the rest of his natural life. “Kidding. You’re my girlfriend, and Little Jase’s lover.”
“I’m so sad you’re going; I might even admit I’ll miss Little Jase.”
Jase whooped and pumped a fist in the air. “I knew you secretly liked him.” He glanced down at the time on his phone. The car wasn’t coming for another hour, just about everything else was packed in his case. “He needs another goodbye.”
“He said goodbye last night. Then again this morning.”
“Yeah, well, he’s done the maths. Two goodbyes are not enough, seeing he’s not going to get any action beyond my hand and hopefully a few video chats with you. He wants a third. Third time’s the charm and all that.”
He pulled at the buttons on her yellow cardigan.
Fucking sunshine.
When he opened it, there was nothing beneath it. “How was I so busy packing that I didn’t notice the nipples were free beneath here?”
“I’m behind on laundry. I thought I’d wait until you were gone and then spend the rest of the day catching—”
“Babe, we’re talking about nipples. We don’t talk household chores when Little Jase is feeling constrained.”
Cerys grinned. “You’re wearing joggers, Jase. How constrained can he be?”
“He likes to run naked and free. Help him, Cerys. You’re his only hope.”
Despite her giggles as he teased her nipples with his fingers, she slid her hands beneath his waistband and gripped him firmly.
“Yeah. He likes that.”
Cerys looked up into his eyes. “Do you like that, Jase?” She bit down on her soft pink lip. Lips he’d miss at night when they kissed in the moments before sleep.
“Yeah. I like it a lot.”
Quietly, they stepped out of their clothes. Jase pulled his case off the bed and then lowered Cerys to the mattress.
Worshipfully, he kissed her jaw, the pulse in the side of her neck, the curve of her collar bone. He’d miss the softness of her skin, the feel of her nails gently running lines up and down his back. He’d miss the soft gasp of air against his cheek as she sighed.
He placed his finger in her mouth and she sucked on it before he moved his hand between the two of them. It eased his path as he slowly eased it into her. Within minutes, she was wet, writhing beneath him.
Jase pulled on a condom, moved back up her body, and kissed her soundly as he slid slowly into her. A gentle back and forth until he was seated deep within her, where he could feel the very heartbeat of her.
He studied her eyes. “Still falling, Cerys. Still. Fucking. Falling.”
You’ve already fallen. Be honest.
But somehow, the words “I love you” stuck in his throat.
She placed her palm to his cheek and nodded as he moved against her. Somehow, he knew she understood. And as much as her eyes told him she loved him, she’d never muttered those words to him. Perhaps he was a selfish bastard for needing to hear them, even when he couldn’t yet bring himself to say them to her.
“Stop worrying about everything else and make love to me, Jase.”
He did as she asked, rocking them gently, then faster towards completion. When they came, it was together, in silence. A fucking beautiful coming together that shook him to his bones.
Fourteen hours later, when he and Alex dragged their weary asses into their home, everything around him felt foreign. The front door, the narrow hallway, the small living room, where a welcome home banner hung over the old fireplace that had long since been bricked up.
But two things were utterly and gratefully familiar. The sight of Nan in the kitchen, and the smell of bacon as it sizzled.
“Ah, my boys are home. Welcome back, lads. I’ve missed you both.” She wrapped her arms around Alex first, then Jase. The familiar scent of her perfume helped him settle.
“Hey, Nan. You didn’t need to come over so early,” Jase said.
“Couldn’t have you coming home with an empty stomach to an empty house.”
Alex wandered to the kitchen. “Cup of tea?”
“Please,” Jase said. “I got something for you, Nan, but it’s buried in my case. I’ll bring it over tomorrow.”
“Ah, don’t be bothering about that now. I’m looking forward to hearing all about your adventures and seeing your photographs. Hang on. Alex King, get your hands off that bacon. It’s for the butties I’m about to make.”
Jase watched his nan hustle into the kitchen and smack Alex’s tattooed hand, which held the remains of a hot, half-eaten rasher. “Always was faster than a fucking Ninja when it came to stealing food off a plate,” she tutted.
Minutes later, they sat at the Formica-covered table, eating bacon butties with too much brown sauce and a piping hot cup of tea, while Nan put her coat on.
“I filled the fridge with a couple of bits and pieces to get you through the day, milk and the likes. There’s some ham and cheese barms and custard tarts for your lunch. And I put a fish pie in there too. Just pop it in the oven at three-fifty for half an hour. And a bowl of vegetables that I already cooked. Microwave them four minutes.”