Handle With Care (16 page)

Omar was ripped, and I was acutely aware of how easily he could turn me into mincemeat, should he take a dislike to me. Something he already appeared to have done. I backed away from him and nearly crushed a tub of flowers as I stumbled back against the balcony railing. It gave me support, but I still felt horribly vulnerable there, knowing there was a ten-foot drop onto solid concrete right behind me.

“I didn’t
do
anything, and I didn’t mean to upset him. Is he in there? Please, I need to talk to him.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t need to talk to you, all right? So I suggest you clear off and go fu—”

“Omar Mohammed Khan, you mind your language and get back in here!”

Omar turned at the interruption, and I saw a petite woman at the door to the flat. I say petite because she was tiny compared to Omar, but she had a belly like a beach ball under her hot pink salwar kameez.

Omar made a heated reply in what sounded like Punjabi to my ears, which had been attuned by growing up in an area with a large Pakistani population.

Meera gave as good as she got, though, jabbing away with her fingers to emphasise her point. Her gold nose stud twinkled as she shook her head rapidly.

Eventually, Omar heaved a sigh and turned to loom over me.

“You better treat him right, hear me? Or I’ll come round and break your fucking legs.”

“I will. I promise.” I tried to make myself look as small as possible, but as he was only an inch or two taller than me, it was tricky.

Omar sniffed contemptuously but obviously considered his masculinity to be appeased enough to strut back into the flat. Meera studied me from the open doorway, her hands resting on top of her belly.

“You must be Ben. It’s good to meet you at last. You’ll have to come round for dinner sometime soon, once you’re allowed to eat normal food again.”

“I, uh, thank you. I’m not sure your husband would agree to that.”

Meera flapped her hand dismissively. “He’ll be fine. His bark’s worse than his bite. You sort things out with Ollie, and he’ll be happy. Those two’ve been best mates since they were little children, you know? Omar’s always been like a big brother, protecting him from bullies and all that.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Yes. Quite.” It was interesting that despite the fluent Punjabi, Meera had barely a trace of an Asian accent when speaking English. She must have grown up around here. Mind you, the very fact that she was on the doorstep speaking 140

to a strange man without a headscarf on suggested she wasn’t a first-generation immigrant.

Meera smiled at me as if waiting for me to continue.

“Could I speak to Ollie, please?” I was surprised he hadn’t come out of the flat with all the commotion. Maybe he really didn’t want to see me. I gulped, trying to keep the desolation at bay. I could still fix this, couldn’t I?

“He went out about an hour ago with his skateboard. I expect he’ll be at the ramps.”

I looked up at the sky doubtfully. “It’s too dark to skate.”

“Yes, well, he likes to hang out down there. He has his coffee shop, of course.”

“Ah, okay.” I turned to leave. “Thanks, Meera.”

“Wait a minute!”

I turned back with a sigh. Here came the warning about not messing Ollie around again. Seemed like everyone I met wanted to give me one of those, like Ollie was some fragile little flower that needed protecting. I could see there was that side to him, but he had a tough streak too. He’d needed it, being out and proud in a neighbourhood like this. Still, I was glad there were so many people out there who had his back.

“When are you going to make an honest man of him?”

“Uh, what?” She wasn’t suggesting I propose, was she?

“You know, ask him to move in with you rather than sending him back here every night.”

That took me by surprise. “Move in?”

“Yes. I want my privacy back. He needs to be out by the time the baby comes.” She stroked her belly possessively. “You’ve got six weeks.”

“Oh. I’ll see what I can do.”

Meera nodded, completely self-assured. “Yes, Ollie says you’re a good man.

You’ll do right by him.”

I wished I had her confidence in myself.

142

The park was gloomy, and for an awful moment, I thought all the gates had been locked, but that was only the first set I tried leading into the small children’s play area. I could just make out an open gate near the ramps, so I headed around the perimeter fence and walked in over the damp grass. There was a figure sitting on the base of the nearest ramp. I’d have recognised that spiky-haired silhouette anywhere.

Ollie looked up at me with dark eyes, his expression guarded. It pained me to see him wary, and I crouched down to be at his level.

“Hey,” I said softly.

“Hey, yourself.” Ollie gave a weak smile, but only his lips seemed to be cooperating.

“Ollie, I’m sorry. I don’t know quite what it was I said that screwed everything up, but I think we need to talk about it if we’re going to sort it out.”

Ollie looked more hopeful at that. “D’you think we can?”

“I hope we can. I just need you to tell me why you ran off like that so I know what to avoid doing in future.” I needed him to tell me quickly as well, because crouching like this was hell on my out-of-shape muscles, and I was in serious danger of toppling over backwards.

Ollie must have sensed my discomfort, because he patted the ramp next to him. I straightened up with a groan and heaved my bones over there. It was cold and hard, but at least it was a seat of sorts.

It wasn’t until I was sitting down that I noticed Ollie had one trouser leg rolled up past his knee. “Hey, I didn’t think that look was in anymore these days.”

“Huh? Oh, no. I just had a bit of an accident. Fell off my board.”

“What? Let me see.”

Ollie shifted around and bent his leg, hissing as he did so. “It’s not that bad.

Just a graze. I’m gonna need new jeans, though. Went right through the denim.”

“Shit, Ollie, are you okay?” The graze looked huge, the blood glittering black in the dim glow of the distant streetlights. “You haven’t sprained or broken anything, have you?”

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“Then why are you sitting out here in the cold and dark all by yourself?”

“Just needed some time to think things through. About what you said. How I let Dane push me around and take advantage.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I know you’re older now. You’ve moved on.” I stopped to think of the right words to say. “I just didn’t like the idea of someone like that using you. You deserve to be cherished, not treated like a servant.”

“Oh.” Ollie flushed and started to spin his bracelets. I stopped him by grabbing hold of his hand and holding it, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles.

Ollie began quietly, hesitantly. “That was how Dane liked things to be. He worked hard all day in the office and wanted to get home to his dinner on the table, followed by a blowjob, and then he’d fuck me hard before bed. I didn’t have to go out to work or do anything ’sides look after the house and be there when he wanted me. I knew where I was, then.” Ollie raised his eyes, and my heart clenched at the confusion in their depths. “I don’t know what you want from me. I’ve never had a relationship like this. I thought I could handle it, but now I’m not so sure.”

144

“Christ, Ollie, are you serious?” It all tied in with what Zoe had told me. His urge to look after me. The way he’d taken over some of my household chores without me even realising. Ollie was used to being a kept boy and didn’t know how to have any other kind of relationship. “I had no idea before today.”

“No, well, I never exactly told you, did I?” Ollie gave a wry smile. “You already think I’m immature, so I reckoned I’d better keep my mouth shut about my houseboy days. Besides”—he paused to sniff and wipe his hand under his nose—“I left him because I didn’t want to be treated like that anymore. I wanted to work and make my own choices like an adult. Being with Dane was like still living with my mum and stepdad, ’cept with more sex.”

“
More
sex?” My mind was reeling. I wasn’t sure I could cope with finding out he’d also been abused at home.

“Yeah, well, you know, when I was fourteen I used to sneak out down here at night and give the odd blowjob to my mates under the ramps, but I hadn’t gone any further than that until I met Dane.”

Thank God for that. “How did you meet him?” I wasn’t sure I really wanted to hear all the details but I thought it might be better to get it all out now, rather than be left wondering. I huddled Ollie close to help warm us both up and wondered if we should take this conversation somewhere more comfortable. My bed, for instance. For once, the idea of having Ollie stay the night didn’t fill me with fear, but I hadn’t the spare attention to wonder why.

“He was manager of the firm where I did my work experience after my GCSEs. I don’t reckon I was all that suited to the work, and I kept breaking the photocopier, but he took quite an interest in me. Always asking me to come to his office and help him with something that had ‘come up’. Usually it was his dick. Sometimes I ended up having to hide under the desk when other people came in.”

I felt sick at the thought of some aging pervert taking advantage of a nubile innocent like Ollie must have been.

Ollie continued. “As soon as I turned sixteen, Dane asked me to move in with him.” Ollie smiled wistfully, and I wanted to punch this Dane fellow. “I couldn’t pack my bags fast enough. And it was great, for a while. Made me feel so grown up, being the first of my friends to move out of home. The first to have a steady relationship. Then they all started going to college or getting jobs, and suddenly I was left behind. All I could talk about was daytime TV shows and doing the fucking housework. It’s not like I could tell them about the sex, was it?” Ollie hugged himself, and his eyes seemed to implore me to agree.

“No.” And I hoped he wasn’t about to tell me about it, either. All this talk of Dane was making my fists curl. There’s no way that bastard was getting any more of Ollie’s attention. Ollie was with me now.

I realised how much I wanted to keep things that way.

I pulled Ollie close against my chest and spoke into the gelled spikes of his hair. “I’m sorry. I had no idea, but now I do, I can make sure things are less confusing for you. I don’t want a houseboy.” Ollie stiffened in my arms. “But I do want you. I want you to be independent and have your own life. I want you to open your café and draw your comics and follow your dreams, okay? And promise me you won’t go running off the moment we have a disagreement. I need you to stick around and explain things so I can understand what’s going on in your head.”

I felt, rather than saw, Ollie’s nod. His body trembled, but I didn’t hear any sobs, just a sniffle, muted by him burying his damp face in the crook of my neck.

We sat like that for what felt like an age. My mind raced through ideas and emotions, trying on jealousy and anger, annoyance at Ollie for never telling me, 146

sadness, acceptance, and finally settling on a humbling gratitude that he had chosen me, despite having such a screwy idea of what his role should be.

When he eventually pulled his face away, his eyes were dewy, but the fragile moment seemed to have passed. I could see him pulling back together that camouflage of cheeky attitude. I wanted to catch him before the naked Ollie was gone.

“Why don’t you come back to mine and stay the night?” I asked, not realising that was about to come out of my mouth but rather pleased it had. “I’m not promising any action, but I’d like you to be there.”

Ollie gave me a long stare, and I could see the moment when something changed in his eyes. Some part of him matured when he made the decision.

“No,” he said. “Thanks, but maybe it’s better if I stay a bit more independent right now. I don’t want to crowd you.”

I wanted to protest that he wouldn’t be, but I could see the sense in his words. Maybe we had been rushing things. Maybe it was better to take a step back and wait a while, no matter what Meera said.

“I’ll give you a lift back, then.”

Ollie smiled and squeezed my hand.

The smell of fresh coffee tantalised my nostrils with a sweet torture. I followed temptation through to the kitchen to find that other forbidden pleasure, my delectable boyfriend, fussing over the machine as the dark, syrupy liquid trickled into his cup. I stood there for a while and watched him, wondering how long I’d be able to resist giving in to the urge to take him to my bed.

I was still reeling from Ollie’s revelation a few days before. I wasn’t going to be like that Dane arsehole. I wasn’t going to take advantage of Ollie’s youth and eagerness to please.

Hell, if I kept telling myself it often enough, I might even believe it and forget that I was also a big coward, terrified to have an orgasm in case it hurt so bad I never wanted to have sex again. I still had ten days of grace before I had no more excuses. I wondered if they’d fly by or if every moment would stretch out to taunt me.

“Mornin’,” Ollie said, leaning back against the counter. As he lifted the cup to his lips, his T-shirt rode up, exposing an expanse of purple-and-green boxer shorts over the low-slung jeans, and a tantalising inch of bare flesh. I salivated.

“Was there something you wanted?” Ollie’s eyes were sparkling. Bloody tease.

“Yeah.” My voice came out gruff, and I tried to make it all businesslike. “I wanted to check on how things are going with the café. Are you still planning to open on the bank holiday?” Ollie’s business plan had given a projected opening date at the end of May, but I knew procuring the equipment on the cheap had taken him rather longer than he’d anticipated.

“Yeah, should be. I’m gonna have to spend the next couple of weeks setting up. Decorating and sorting shit out. You won’t see much of me. Zoe’s gonna try and help out, but she’s still working split shifts at the restaurant, so I’m not expecting much.”

“That’s a shame.” I walked over and placed my hands on the counter on either side of him. “I’ll miss you,” I mumbled into his hair.