Trust (London Love #5)

“The one who’s suing your company and making you broke?”

“No, that’s someone else. Also employed by Blitz. Fuck. But anyway, he’s sorting out the sale of my old house and the purchase of our new one, so I’ll have some money in the bank. I asked him to put your name on the deeds. It makes it fair and also gives me a bigger tax break. Then we’ll own it fifty-fifty.”

“Arsehole,” I grunted. “You can’t do that. You can’t just give me half a house.”

“I can. I mean, what you gonna do about it?”

“This is bullshit.”

“No. No bullshit. Your uncle is a tax expert, remember? Stewart rang him last night. It’s all fully deductible, and as a first-time buyer, it means you…”

I let my head fall into my hands and screamed. For real.

“Trust me,” he said.

I laughed. “I one hundred percent don’t trust you.”

“Well, I trust you. And your dad.”

“Yeah, but you have trust issues. Let me make you a long list why this is the most fucked up thing I have ever heard!” I was shouting, and I wasn’t even ashamed of it. “First off, we can’t just set up house after a few weeks like we’re a thing!”

He shook his head. “It all boils down to three simple little words—oh, hang on, I think you just wrote some lyrics, right there. Ha! I’ll put you down as the co-writer. Bam. Royalties for you too. And I can do that, you know, because even though you don’t think you deserve all this, that I’m the one being stupid here, we are a thing, Reubs. You and me.”

“Doesn’t mean you can buy me with gifts. Like…half houses or whatever.”

“No but I can make sure you’re safe. That you’re looked after. And perhaps you could let me, seeing as you do so much more for me. You rescue me when I need it. Bring me food. Let me suck your dick. You know. Normal things. We look after each other. Remember that. You and me.”

“Simple words, eh?” I muttered. “The dick thing doesn’t count.”

“It does. Want that in the contract too?”

“No,” I shouted, but I was laughing too. “Stop it. Now.”

“I love you,” he said. “It’s that simple.”

The way things went

GRAHAM

The way things went…was like this. I fucked up. Over and over again. I pushed and pushed, and Reuben threw me out.

Well, in his very specific Reuben way, which lasted about ten minutes before I was in the hallway rocking him and shushing into his neck while his tightly folded arms dug into my chest.

“I know I push,” I said. “But you know, it’s just the way I am. If I want something, I go for it. Full on. Sometimes I get exactly what I want. Other times, I accidentally overshoot and then I have to step back and grovel. Which is what I’m doing now. Grovelling. Hard.”

He snivelled. Put his chin into the crook of my neck.

Okay. He needed more grovelling then.

“I know I’m a lot.”

“Shut up, Gray.”

I smiled. Good stuff. He was…so lovely. So easy. Simple words indeed.

“How about—”

“No,” he said sternly. “No, Gray. I mean it. This is too much, and I need…”