“Not too forward. And I’d love to.”

  The smile that spread across Heath’s face could power the whole of Cambridge, and Alex felt a fluttery sensation in his stomach.

  Heath pulled out his phone and passed it to Alex, once he’d unlocked it. “Could I have your number?”

  Alex grasped the phone and entered his details before passing it back to Heath, who pressed a few buttons before Alex felt a vibration from his own phone. “Now, you have my number.”

  Alex retrieved his phone and, with a smirk, saved Heath’s number under Hot Vet Heath.

  “Hot vet, huh?” Heath grinned.

  Alex blushed. “Shut up, I need to differentiate between all the other imaginary guys I have in my contact list.”

  Heath laughed. “Good to know.”

  “Good to know what? That I have imaginary guy friends?”

  “No, that you think I’m hot.” Heath leered.

  Alex smacked the back of his hand against Heath’s shoulder. “Shut it, or you drop down my list of who next to contact.”

  “No! I’m sorry, don’t do that.” Heath wailed with the exuberance of a child not wanting their favourite toy to be taken away from them.

  Alex guffawed. “You’re an idiot.”

  “Yep.” Heath agreed with a grin.

  Getting into the taxi with Casey—they’d had excessive amounts of alcohol—Alex couldn’t help smiling at the night he’d had.

  “Your date seemed like it went well,” Casey mused.

  “Yeah. Heath’s a great guy.”

  “Are you going to see him again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow, that was decisive. Who are you, and what have you done with Alex?” Casey joked.

  Alex smacked him. “I like him, and we get on well. Why not try, eh?” Alex shrugged. “I’m surprised you didn’t go home with Marcus.” Alex glanced over at Casey, seeing a small smile playing around his mouth.

  “I was going to, but I wanted to wait a bit. Marcus seems like a nice guy. Too good to be true with my track record.” Casey’s pain was evident on his face.

  “But, as you told me, you have to try.”

  “Stop throwing my words back at me.”

  Alex chuckled. “Ah, when the student becomes the teacher.”

  “When are you next seeing Heath?” Casey rested his head against the headrest, no doubt on his way to falling asleep.

  “We’re going to sort it out in a few days.”

  “Good.” Casey yawned, which made Alex yawn.

  “I’m glad I’m not working tomorrow.”

  “It’s alright for some. I’ve got to be at work by seven.” Casey grumbled good-naturedly. Alex knew Casey lived for his job, but Alex worried he worked too hard.

  “You should have swapped your shift.”

  “I tried. No one could take it.” Casey yawned again as they pulled up outside Alex’s house.

  “Want to sleep in the spare room?”

  Casey paused. “Yeah, go on. Make sure I’m up in time to head home before I start work.”

  They both alighted the taxi and stumbled up the path.

  Within seconds of Alex’s head hitting his pillow, he was out.

  ****

  Chapter 22

  Craig

  Ten months after the incident—Craig called it that because he wasn’t sure how else to talk about it—the routine he had when he was with Darren was not in full effect any longer. Some of it was, but some wasn’t. It was progress as far as Amanda was concerned. However, Craig was impatient, wishing he would get over them immediately.

  Craig was able to leave the dishes in the sink without having a panic attack and had grown used to cooking what he wanted when he wanted. As for logging on and off his computer, he had found out it was beneficial to keep that going. It gave him an idea of how long each project was taking, and it was easier to bill the clients. He also finished work at five o’clock now instead of four and cooked dinner afterwards.

  He struggled with sitting in Darren’s chair at the table or with sleeping in bed sometimes. He was used to being scrunched up to one side, and now, he could stretch out. Every night, he would make a conscious effort to stretch across the bed to fall asleep, but every morning, he would wake to find himself curled in a ball on the edge of his side of the bed. He knew it would take time, especially as it was more of a subconscious decision than a conscious one.

  Amanda had brought up the glass paperweights in Thursday’s session. She had asked what he liked about them and the reason they were a part of his life. Initially, he’d expressed Darren had bought them as an apology, but after talking about them, he remembered having some before he had started the relationship with Darren.

  His mother had bought his first glass paperweight when he was around fourteen years old. It was a Caithness Glass one in a teardrop shape with a tornado of rainbow colours filtering through the centre. He had been fascinated with how they were made. Every year, on his birthday and for Christmas, he would receive another one to add to his collection.

  They were all gone now, but Amanda had suggested he visit a shop or factory where they made them and find out whether he liked them or if bad memories had attached to them.

  Being a Saturday, Craig didn’t have to work—although he would later—therefore, he had time to stroll around the town to see what he could see. He had researched and found one shop which stocked some glass items, but nothing that caught his eye, though he was going to visit it anyway.

  Entering a shop he hadn’t noticed during his research, The Glass Dome, he was amazed to see a wide variety of objects, all of which were made from glass, hence the name he assumed. He moseyed around the cabinets and shelves, fascinated by the diversity he could see.

  “Can I help you?”

  Craig turned towards the shop assistant and smiled. “These are amazing!” he gushed. “Are they made here?”

  “Thank you. They are not made at this shop, no. Our factory is on the outskirts of Cambridge.” She smiled.

  “Do you know if the public is able to tour the factory? I would love to see how these things are made.” His gaze caught on a display case of paperweights, and his feet danced him in their direction before he acknowledged it. He saw every colour of the rainbow and beyond, different shapes, different designs. They were fantastic.

  “They’re spellbinding, aren’t they?” The shop assistant beamed as she inspected the case alongside Craig. “These have always been my favourite.”

  “I had hundreds of these bought over the years. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to buy anymore after—” Craig halted, licked his lips and continued, “they were broken, but I love studying them.”

  “Maybe it’s time to start another collection?” Craig knew it was the shop assistant’s job to bring in sales, and Craig smiled inwardly, knowing he’d walked right into the sales pitch.

  “I think you’re right. But which one…”

  “I’ll leave you to shop around, but give me a shout if you need any assistance.”

  “Thanks. I will.” Craig’s gaze didn’t leave the case as he spoke, briefly noting he’d been left alone.

  The colours were vibrant and eye-catching, resulting in something as fragile as it was hard. It was a complete contradiction. He spent about an hour studying the various designs, speaking with the assistant about if they had any meanings and settling on one with a riot of rainbow sashes, a reminder of his first collection.

  Craig paid for the paperweight and left with it carefully boxed up for transporting home. As he continued, he considered where to put it but realised he had nowhere to display his new ornament. He detoured to a furniture shop and bought a glass cabinet, which would be delivered the following day.

  Arriving home, he decided the safest place for the paperweight would be in his office on the shelves his brothers had built for him. He’d keep it wrapped up until the display cabinet had been delivered, then would proudly put it in place.

  He strode into the living room, surveying the space available and determined a move around was in order. The TV being on the wall meant he could move the sofa to a better position, leaving more wall space open. The new cabinet would have plenty of space on the far wall. When Craig had moved the furniture to where he wanted it and removed the rug he hated, he stood and studied the room, panting with exertion and wiping sweat from his forehead. He’d not moved mountains, but it made the room appear altogether a different room.

  Heading to the kitchen for water, he swallowed half a bottle in one go. He needed to hit a gym more often. The thought curdled in his mind immediately, and he shook it away, altering the idea. He needed to find something he could do from home instead.

  Craig cooked his dinner and ate in front of the TV. The room had a new feel to it now that it had been rearranged.

  Craig understood he was slowly reclaiming his house. First his office, now the living room. There wasn’t anything he could do about the kitchen, apart from giving it a lick of paint, but he could redecorate the bedroom. An idea for another day.

  Spending another hour working wiped him out, and he went to bed for ten o’clock, unheard of time for him before.

  ****

  Alex’s mouth descended his body, nipping, licking, tasting as he went. He stopped at Craig’s nipple, focusing attention on it until it stood proudly out from his body, leaving a wet trail across his sternum to the other nipple to continue his torture.

  Groans fell from Craig’s lips, his hands gripping Alex’s hair as his hips lifted, wanting friction, only to be disappointed.

  “Alex. Please.”

  Alex’s fingers took over from his mouth, and his lips and tongue, once again, painted a story on his skin. As he moved down Craig’s body, Craig’s cock rested between their bodies, the abrasion of Alex’s chest hair on his tip and nerves sending waves of pleasure through Craig’s system.

  “God, Craig. You taste good.” Alex’s tongue licked the slit of Craig’s erection as if it was the best ice cream he’d ever had.

  “Fuck! Holy fuck!”

  One of Alex’s hands left Craig’s nipple and wrapped around the base of Craig’s shaft tightly, moving it where Alex wanted it. Alex sucked the head into his mouth, laving his tongue against the nerves and lighting Craig’s body like a firework. Alex sank his mouth down, swallowing Craig’s cock fully and holding for a few seconds before pulling off with a heaving inhale. He tongued all around the shaft, licking, nibbling and drew down again, holding once more.

  “I’m close, Alex, so close. Fuck! I’m gonna come.” Craig gripped Alex’s shoulders, no doubt leaving nail imprints, but he couldn’t stop. “Oh, fuck! Yes!”

  “ALEX!” Craig’s orgasm flared through him, and he woke from the immense pleasure of it. His cock continued pumping, covering his hand until there was nothing left. Craig laid back, chest heaving, vision spotty and out of energy. His spent cock was resting wetly against his stomach, alongside the evidence of his release.

  Fuck. Craig was supposed to be getting away from Alex, but his brain obviously hadn’t received the message.

  Checking the clock, it was early, but not too early. He got up, traipsing to the bathroom to clean himself up. After his morning routine, he sat at his desk and started up his computer. Craig stared at the screen as it was loading, trying to remember the reasons why he’d told himself to stay away from Alex. Craig was a stronger person now than when the incident first happened, though he was worried he’d be forever broken by it. Not the actual abuse, he was slowly coming to terms with that—as was evidenced by the fact he could use the term abuse in relation to it. What worried him was his own instincts. If he hadn’t known he was being abused by Darren, how could tell if it happened again? How could he trust that his own thoughts and feelings were reflecting the true dynamic of a relationship?

  Craig shook his head. These were thoughts he needed to discuss with Amanda. He loaded his current project and set to work, filing his concerns away for a short time.

  A knock brought him out of his designing focus, and he automatically noted the time and saved the work before jogging down the hall.

  “Hey, Logan. How are you?” Why was Logan paying a house call? It usually signalled something was wrong, at least to Craig it did.

  “Good, thanks. Do you mind if I come in?” Logan’s expression gave nothing away, which troubled Craig more.

  “Sure.” He opened the door wider. Logan shuffled in, and Craig watched as he scanned the room.

  “You’ve had a change around.” A statement, not a question.

  “Yeah. I did it yesterday because I’ve bought a cabinet which is being delivered today. I needed somewhere to put it.” Craig headed to the kitchen. “Would you like a coffee or tea?”

  “Coffee would be great, thanks.”

  Craig set to making it. “What brings you to my door today?” He needed to find out the reason for Logan’s visit. His hands were shaking sufficiently that the milk would be cream or butter if he held it for much longer.

  “I wanted to keep you updated with everything, to be honest.” Logan’s voice was closer than Craig thought, and he balked before inhaling slowly to calm his heart rate. “Sorry.” Logan’s apology was softer this time.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m getting better. It’s when I’m not expecting something, that’s all.” He threw a smile in Logan’s direction. “What’s the updated news?”

  “Well, as you know already, Darren is in jail and won’t be getting out any time soon. We’re waiting to hear of a court date…oh, you need to arrange for a lawyer for yourself, too.”

  “Why do I need one?” Craig doctored the drinks and passed Logan’s to him.

  “It’s best to have one who can fight in your corner. It’s a precaution in case something you’re not expecting is brought up. If it does, a lawyer can help you navigate it.”

  Casey nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll get researching.”

  “I know a few people who might be able to help if you like. I can ask one of them to give you a call?”

  “Yeah, alright. I have no idea what type of lawyer or anything else I need. If someone can point me in the right direction, that would be great.”

  “How are you doing with—”

  Logan’s words were cut off by another knock on the door.

  “Excuse me a second.” Craig drifted to the front of the house, thankful for the interruption of what he was sure was going to be a question about his emotional or mental state.

  The cabinet had arrived, and he showed the delivery guys where he wanted it. They carried it in and carefully unpackaged it for him before getting him to sign for it. After they left, he stood staring at the cabinet, both excited about what it stood for and unsure whether it was a good idea or not.

  Logan quietly called his name, garnering his attention.

  “Oh, sorry. My mind wandered.”

  “Not a problem. I’m going to head off and leave you in peace. Let me know if I can do anything to help at all.” He paused. “And I’ll be in contact with those lawyers for you.”

  “Thanks, Logan. I appreciate it.”

  Craig saw him out the door before retrieving his glass paperweight. Unpackaging the fragile ornament, he sauntered over to the cabinet, opened the door and placed the paperweight front and centre. Closing the door again, he stepped back until his legs hit the sofa, and he dropped back onto it.

  Pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and finger, he tried to work through his tumultuous emotions. For the most part, he was excited—a new collection meant he could choose the pieces which called to him. But something was making his heart clench, and he couldn’t figure out what it was.

  ****

  Chapter 23

  Alex

  For the fifth week in a row, Alex sat at the window table, watching the streaks of orange, red and pink splash across the sky. With the nights drawing closer, Alex shivered with the understanding that snow and ice were not too far away, the chill of the season having already greeted the city.

  He sat more upright when his gaze focused on the reflection in the window as someone walked to his table and slumped when they continued past.

  Alex stared at the cup in his hand, shaking his head. He shouldn’t be here. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, swallowing to try and remove the lump in his throat.

  “What are you doing, Alex?” He raked his fingers through his hair and resting his forehead in his palm, the heaviness in his body, making him ache for his bed. Though why, he didn’t know. He couldn’t sleep when he got there anyway.

  “Everything okay, Alex?”

  He snapped open his eyes at Amanda’s warm voice. “Oh, hey. Yeah, all good. How are you?”

  “I’m good, thanks.” She continued to stare at him, eyes narrowing. “Can I join you?”

  Alex’s heart rate increased, and his palms sweat, despite the cold. “Sure.”

  Amanda folded herself into the chair opposite, placing her mug in front of her and wrapping her hands around it. “I’m freezing. I thought a hot cup of tea might warm my bones.” She chuckled.

  Alex smiled. “Yeah, I was hoping the same.” He hoped she didn’t catch his lie.

  “You not working today?”

  He stiffened in his seat, gaze shifting to the window. “What gave it away?”

  She waved a hand in his direction. “I’ve not seen you wear jeans to work before. Granted, I’ve not seen you every day, but each I have seen you, you’ve worn black trousers.”

  “Remind me never to play an observation game with you.” Alex rested back with a sigh. He weighed up the pros and cons of explaining to Amanda. With her being a psychologist, he knew he may not like her thoughts on his behaviour.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I was making small talk, which apparently was not at all small. Sorry. Occupational hazard.” She sipped her tea, humming as she swallowed.