Trust (London Love #5)

“Never too late.” George nodded. “Same for me. My parents weren’t well off either. The first birthday cake I ever had was the one Catherine made for my twenty-fourth birthday.”

“Twenty-third,” Gray’s mum corrected him. “And it doesn’t matter now, does it? We’re all good. And you’ve got steady employment, Reuben, Graham told us, and you share a home with your father. That’s lovely to hear.”

Was it? Sounded a bit twatty to me. Like I’d not grown up. And here was my Gray.

My Gray?

Shit.

I reached out, stroked his cheek, mouthed, “You okay?”

He nodded.

He was certainly looking cleaner. Smelling fresher. Wearing a jumper that was far too small for him.

I’d said I wouldn’t melt, but I did. Because he was my Gray, and fuck everything. Truly.

“I have work tomorrow,” I said as he took a seat next to me. “Need to get back down south. You coming?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. It was such a relief to see him do that.

“Not until you’ve seen Dr Williams.”

“Yes, Mum.”

I got it. Despite all that crap about being an adult, I was still my dad’s son. If he told me what to do, I did it. Usually.

***

Two hours later, we finally set off, a hearty picnic stashed in the footwell of the car. A flask of tea.

I couldn’t remember if Dad and I had ever owned a flask, but Gray’s dad said we could bring this one back on our next visit.

Apparently, we were coming back for a visit.

“Dr Williams took my blood. He’s testing for everything,” Gray said from the passenger seat, where he was gently rubbing his arm. “He thinks I have vitamin deficiencies coming out of my ears. Told me I need to completely overhaul my diet. Proper meals. Red meat, leafy veg and plenty of water. Three times a day.”

“Okay?”

“Mum wants me back on PrEP but, you know, the only person I’m sleeping with is you.”

“And we’re not even having sex,” I blurted.

“We are,” he said gently. “And I promised Dr Williams, and my incredibly overbearing mother, that you’d get tested too.”

“Okay,” I agreed. I needed to find other words to say than okay. “Your Mum’s nice.”

“She is. She just worries about me.”

“That’s normal.”

We drove. Quietly watching the sun sink over the horizon.

“Why are you here, Reubs?” he asked. I could hear a small smile in his voice, and I appreciated the joke, the small bond we shared. I indicated, dropped my speed, pulled into a layby, the same one from where I’d watched the tractor earlier in the day. We had a long journey ahead, but I needed to do this. Set things right.

“Get out,” I said.

“What? You’re dumping me in a field on the A-road?”