“Screw it.” Brian slammed the fridge door, got his phone and, ignoring the continued silence from Andrew, ordered steamed dim sum, fish cakes and Pad Thai. If Andrew was going to abandon him—the person he apparently loved—then Brian was going to eat whatever the hell he wanted.
That done, he hit the couch face first to wait for the delivery. Schrody got over his snit and crawled onto his thighs and curled up, effectively pinning him in place. Brian barely noted the kneading before he fell asleep.
“Come on, Archy. No, don’t dig your claws in.”
The soft words and weird sensations around his butt area woke Brian. He twisted his head and blinked at the scene unfolding halfway down the couch.
Andrew was trying to lift Schrody off him, but the cat had his claws in what felt like the fabric of both Brian’s pants and boxer-briefs. The material was tented up and Schrody was arched over in Andrew’s arms, straining to keep hold of it. Pretty soon, Brian would be hauled off the couch.
“Stop that, Archimedes,” Andrew whisper-hissed. “Brian’s sleeping. Don’t wake him up.”
“I’m awake.” Though it came out more like “Immake.”
Andrew stopped trying to extricate claws and all but dropped the cat back on him. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up.” He stepped back and looked anywhere but at Brian.
Released, Schrody retracted his weapons, planted his arse on Brian’s spine and started licking his tail. Brian grunted at the weight and this time, Schrody went when Andrew picked him up. Naturally, it was only so he could start trying to climb inside Andrew’s chambray work shirt.
“Jesus, Archy. You’re too big.” Andrew grabbed the cat by his scruff and put him on the floor. Schrody headbutted his shin, then sashayed off to his food bowl.
“It’s because you call him Archimedes,” Brian mumbled, forcing himself to sit up now he was free. “His name is Schrodinger.”
“He’s registered at the vet as Archimedes.”
“No. I called them and had it changed.” He rubbed his hands over his face, emerging when a long-missed smell registered in his nose. “Is that . . . Pad Thai?” Standing, he sniffed hard and followed the alluring scent to the kitchen counter and the paper bag of heavenly Thai food. “Oh, I thought I dreamed it.”
“Not unless you also sleep dialled Uber Eats. I found it on the front step when I got home.”
Stomach cramping in hunger, Brian unloaded the bag. “I don’t care what you say, I’m eating this. Maybe all of it. Probably all of it.” He opened the container of dim sum, poured the entire helping of soy sauce over them and stuffed one whole into his mouth. “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff. Come to daddy.”
Andrew laughed and dragged the container to his side of the counter. He picked up a dim sum and ate it in a couple of bites. “So good.”
Brian snatched the food back. “Mine. Aren’t you denying yourself unnecessary carbs and fats?”
“I’m not about to dive face first into a bucket of fried chicken, but this every now and then won’t hurt.”
Mouth filled with the second last dim sum, Brian eyed his friend warily. “Things you post on Facebook so people know you’ve been kidnapped?” Like telling your mate you’re in love with him? Was this just another phase of Andrew’s depression? He’d said some pretty scary things when he was at his lowest.
“Haha.” Andrew retrieved the fish cakes and opened up the sweet chili sauce.
Spying his phone on the counter where he’d left it after ordering the food, Brian pulled it over and checked the time. Only nine, which explained why the food wasn’t that cold. And why he still felt more asleep than awake. Oh, and there was now a message from Andrew.
Brian held up the phone, showing off the “coming home now” bubble. “Gee, thanks for letting me know you were going to be late.”
“Am I supposed to?”
Someone who loved me would. Brian shook that thought out of his head. “Elle thinks you should. You better let her know you’re all right, too. Before she rams the door down in the morning.”
“Yeah, I sent her a message before. Had my phone turned off all day, then I went to Terri’s for dinner.”
“And still you’re eating mine.”
Brian didn’t think his tone was snappy but Andrew must have heard it that way because he put down the fish cake he was about to eat and pushed the container towards him. “Okay. I’m going to shower.”
He was gone before Brian knew if he wanted him to stay.
Two and a half fish cakes later Brian still had no clue, but Schrody came yowling, looking for his dinner. He flew up onto the counter and beelined for the containers of food.
“Hey, no!” Brian dropped his food and scooped the cat up before he could sample the last fish cake. “Bad. Bad! Come on, let’s get you some yummy liver and heart. Yum!”
Schrody didn’t look convinced—for which Brian couldn’t blame him. Assisting in surgery was one thing, chopping up offal for food was entirely different. The cat, as usual, was quick to change his mind when he saw the lumps of bloody flesh in his bowl and dove in. Flashing back to that afternoon and the unfortunate surfer, Brian put the rest of his Thai in the fridge and went upstairs. The shower was still running so he just went to bed.
For a moment there, life had almost been normal. Him and Andrew arguing over the furbaby, sharing food and, admittedly slightly narky, banter. For a moment.
Would anything ever be normal again?
Brian was asleep when Andrew got out of the shower. Face down in his bed, snoring, Archimedes a huge lump under the cotton sheet at his feet. Andrew snuck in and made sure Brian’s alarm was on so he wouldn’t be late for work. It wasn’t, so he set it and went to bed.
Dinner at Terri’s had been good. Mike had “thrown together” a rolled turkey roast stuffed with apple and cranberry alongside roast potatoes, whole Dutch carrots and chargrilled broccolini. There had been cheesecake with raspberry coulis as well, but Andrew had heroically resisted. And contrary to Terri’s claims, the kids had been great even if they got a little loud when Rory’s slice of cheesecake was a micro-smidge larger than Jane’s. Mike was laid back and off the work site, Terri was soft voiced and didn’t swear, much. There was no therapy apart from good food, great company and a lot of talk about nothing important at all.
It had worked though. By the time Mike had dropped him home, Andrew had felt ready to face Brian and explain. Only to find him zonked out on the couch, their giant cat curled up on him, paws kneading his thigh. Brian’s dark hair had been messy, one hand tucked up under his cheek and shirt half pulled out of his waistband.
Andrew had doubted his feelings so many times over the past months. He couldn’t be in love with his best friend. It was stupid. Ridiculous.
He’d been madly in love with Elle and this didn’t feel like that. Him and Elle had been heat and desire at the start, each other’s firsts for so many things, but when those thrills were over, it settled into something easy and warm. Until it wasn’t. It didn’t happen overnight, or even over a couple of weeks or months. It had happened so slowly Andrew hadn’t even noticed it until Elle was almost out the door. Andrew had wanted to know why she was leaving him and Elle wouldn’t say. She’d cried a lot and told him it wasn’t anyone’s fault, then broke up with him for good. Months later Andrew finally thought he understood—they hadn’t been in love for years, but they had been good friends. Desperate to get that back, he’d gone to Elle and pleaded that she come back to their group. Everyone, including him, had missed her. She’d asked him if he really understood, didn’t believe him when he immediately said “yes,” but came back anyway. After that, it hadn’t been long before her relationship with James became clear when one look at them together showed their love for each other.