Page 26 of Crying in the Rain
Kris shrugged. “I went to drama college, came home for the weekend whenever I could and every holiday. Bear in mind Krissi was at playschool by the time I left sixth form, and Shaunna still lived with her mum and dad, so they helped out a lot. But as I say, Shaunna was—is still—a brilliant mum. A brilliant woman. I think you’ll get on really well with her.”
“I will?” Now Ade folded his arms, loving how quickly Kris became flustered after he’d described so matter-of-factly beinga parent at fifteen!Ade could honestly have listened to him all night, and that second G&T was clearly working its magic too. He’d hardly given Fergus a thought.
Leaning forward, Ade rested his elbows on the table and balanced his chin on one hand, ready to indulge in some serious flirting, but as he held Kris’s gaze, the intensity hit him like a tidal wave, frightening and unexpected and breathtakingly wonderful, and all he could utter was, “What are we doing?”
Kris shook his head. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, I think it’s fabulous. I’m so glad I auditioned forOn Sunday.”
“Me too. And yes, I’d love to meet Shaunna.” Ade picked up his glass, peering demurely over its rim. “We’re endangered, you know.”
Kris rolled his eyes drolly. “I know.”
“Us redheads need to stick together.” Ade pouted, selfie-style, which he doubted looked in the least bit attractive, but still Kris sucked in breath sharply, their stifled laughter confirming the almost out-of-control physical attraction was one hundred percent mutual. It was too fast and yet not fast enough, but Ade was terrified they’d mess it up by moving it to the bedroom so soon.
He was also aware that Kris was done talking about himself—had been done some time ago—so Ade could either prolong the agony by probing for any more details Kris was willing to share…or he could just get it over and done with. An involuntary sigh escaped, capturing Kris’s full attention and leaving Ade with no choice. Well, he could still run, but he wanted to stay, see where this went.
“It’s not a nice story,” he said.
“Hey, you don’t have to tell me.”
“You’ve been so honest and open.”
“Mmm…that was kind of the edited highlights. I can tell you more, though frankly, I’m surprised I haven’t bored the pants off you already.”
“God, not at all! You’ve done so much with your life.”And I’ve done nothing. Achieved nothing.Ade toyed with his glass, empty other than the lemon slice and a couple of slivers of ice, melting away before his eyes.
He’d once been like Krissi, drawn to the thrill, not so much of roller coasters but of illegal raves—waiting for the call to say where and when, then racing off through the night—although he’d kept away from mood-enhancing drugs and couldn’t say he’d ever been tempted to try extreme sports. Danger with safety rails had been his limit, and then Fergus had come along and ripped the rails off; Ade had been dangling off an emotional precipice ever since.
If there was to be a future for him and Kris, he had to open up, however painful doing so might be. Fergus could not be allowed to spoil this for him.
“OK,” he began, still unsure how much to say. He feared that he might start and never stop.
“I have an arse of an ex-boyfriend who doesn’t get that it’s over.”
He paused. Kris nodded, encouraging him to go on.
“That’s why I was late tonight. He turned up at my place this morning, just as I was going to work. I was hoping he’d have leftbefore I got home, but instead, he drank all of my wine, ate all of my food and trashed the place. So I packed him into a taxi and sent him home, but it took a while.”
“Ah. That makes sense.”
“Does it?”
“As an explanation for why you were late.”
“That’s something.” Ade fished the slice of lemon out of his glass and squeezed it gently, then harder. “He’s a very angry person with a lot of issues.”
He didn’t say the words; he didn’t need to because he saw the moment Kris put it all together—the bruises, Ade’s freak-out this morning. Or maybe the stricken quietness that had dulled the bright, colourful man beside him was simply because Ade was confirming what had been obvious all along.
The lemon was a dry husk in Ade’s aching fingers, and his lip hurt from sawing it between his teeth. He was waiting for the questions—the same questions his sister, Pip and the few other people who knew had asked when they first found out.That’s not just everyday angry, Ade, and so what if he has issues? Does that give him the right to take them out on you?
But the questions didn’t come.
Kris reached out and took Ade’s hand in his, nothing more. A simple, instinctive gesture offering comfort, no judgement, but so rare and precious it felt like a warm bed with arms around him, a vision of future happiness that for just a fleeting moment was more than a distant, impossible mirage.
Ade kept his face down and his eyes trained on their hands, focusing on the gentle rub of Kris’s thumb along the edge of his own. A stray tear spilled, and Ade wiped it away in shame. “I’m sorry.”
Kris squeezed Ade’s hand, not hard. Just enough to signal he’d heard. The silence resumed, but the conversation played out in Ade’s head.
“Why are you sorry?”
