Trust (London Love #5)

“Yeah, but that’s all of us. Everyone is scared of things we have no control over. Like these bloody security guys you had living with you. The drivers. People knowing who you are.”

“I want to choose my own people now. Live with whom I choose, which is you by the way.”

“Sounds good. I choose you back then.”

“There’s a lot I need to learn.”

“You need to learn how to drive. Then you can get from A to B without anyone else needing to know your business. So that’s first on the list. After getting that kitchen table up here. This floor is really hard.”

He smiled. He smiled and the world went warm.

“You’ve been much better with your boundaries, though,” I said lightly.

“Have I?” More laughter. Bam. Heart eyes. Right there.

“Yeah? You haven’t once mentioned sucking my dick or tried to rip my clothes off.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, I am trying to be a better person.”

“Boundaries are good. But, you know. Trust.”

“Trust.” He wriggled around again. Dug in the bag. Pulled out a packet of grapes. Picked one up and popped it in my mouth. Placed another one in his own mouth, holding it on his tongue. Boundaries my arse. He was being filthy and flirty and he knew it.

“There’s a fine line between trust and fear,” he said quietly. “I’ve thought about that too. The way I treat other people. Like Dan…the stalker guy. I trusted him. He trusted me. And then suddenly, it all went overboard, and I didn’t know how to pull back. How do you learn to untrust someone?”

“You don’t. I suppose that is fear. And you’re right. It’s a fine line. Respect. Trust. Perhaps it’s all about who you choose. I mean, I have chosen you, but you and me—it’s hard to put into words. I’ve never been so scared in my life as that time I had to rescue you from bloody McDonald’s. I was really out of my depth. And then you left, and I understood a little more about how I felt, because I just wanted you back.”

“I left, but I didn’t leave you.” Another grape in my mouth. “I trust you. And you’re just…really good for me. I’ve never had a best friend, like you are.”

I snorted. Best friend?

“You’ve sucked my dick,” I pointed out.

“Boundaries, Reuben.”

“I liked it. Kind of. Which cancels out the best-friend bit.”

“It doesn’t. We’re best friends. You’re my best friend. And the guy on whom I might like to perform fellatio again.”

“What?” I giggled. “Stop it.”

“You went there.”

“Do we even have a bed in this place? Or will I have to kip on that sofa? Is that even a sofa? It looks hard.”

“Designer.” He sighed. “We can get rid of it.”

“It’s a sofa.”

“Bed,” he said,” dragging me off the floor. “We do have one.”

He turned out the lights, and I followed him upstairs to the bedroom, which smelled of air freshener and dust. Carpet cleaner maybe?

He switched on the bedside light, revealing a fully made bed. “Agnes said it was part of the service. Making the house ready to move into. Like, it’s all been cleaned. The previous owners left the bed frame, but Agnes got a new mattress. Basic bedding. There should be towels too. I had towels anyway, I think?”

He was being weird again, so I just pulled my hoodie over my head, dropped my jeans, pulled the covers back and got in.

“Fuck, that’s cold!” I shivered, and he laughed. “Get under the sheets, Gray.”