Tutting, Oliver snatched the wash cloth from Lucas’ hand and forced him to turn around. “First,” he said, scrubbing the cloth across Lucas’ back. “How dare you suggest Yolanda is ‘shitty?’ She is in excellent condition for her age. Or she was until you drove her. Second, you lived in Eldershot? Fucking hell, White, you’re rougher than I thought.”
Lucas laughed, reaching back to squeeze Oliver’s thigh. “Eldershot was just a stop-gap after moving to the UK. My parents needed somewhere with low rent while they set up their jewellery business. Don’t worry, Reed, we moved to High Garden after that.”
Oliver whistled and swatted the alpha’s pert arse. “High Garden, huh? And did you have gold plated butlers to serve you your caviar?”
Lucas scoffed as he turned around. “I don’t appreciate the sweeping generalisations, Oliver. Yes, the jewellery district is extremely affluent, but the housing areas are fairly low key.”
“Oh, really?” Oliver said, giving the alpha a sceptical look.
“Come back with me on our next day off. See for yourself.”
Oliver blinked several times, because that wasnotwhat he had been implying. As if picking up on his turmoil, Lucas grinned and pulled him into his arms. “Relax, Reed. I’m not asking you to meet my parents. Although?—”
Oliver blushed and buried his face in Lucas’ shoulder. He really had a knack for turning his legs to jelly. “Were you—” he began, changing the subject. “Were you on duty when…Joshua…you know?”
Lucas hummed and shook his head. “No. He wasn’t murdered by the Spanish cartel, in case you were wondering.”He had been wondering, actually.“We were on holiday, sightseeing on one of those vintage steam trains—the ones with the metal railings you can lean over.” Oliver nodded. “Me, Josh, Josh’s wife and my ex-girlfriend. He went into sudden cardiac arrest right there at the end of the train. He said he felt unwell, and needed some air. I saw him go. Eyes rolled back, and he collapsed. I caught him as he fell over the railing. He’d have been dragged beneath the train. Hell, we were both nearly dragged under.”
Oliver’s eyes flitted across the alpha’s face, trying to find the right words. The thought of Lucas desperately clinging to his dead best friend whilst almost dying himself… It made Oliver clamp his eyes shut. “That’s—Lucas, I’m so sorry.”
Lucas sighed, pressing his nose into Oliver’s hair. “Shit happens to good people. I only wish you could have met him.”
“So do I,” he replied with a soft smile.
Wrapping a large towel around his shoulders, Oliver threw another to Lucas, who draped it around his waist. He looked like a finely chiselled Adonis as he stepped out of the shower, and Oliver wondered how the fuck he’d pulled such a beauty.
Both their stomachs rumbled as they trudged through the apartment, which should have been impossible given the metric-boat-load of pasta they’d consumed that evening.
“Tea?” Oliver said, glancing at the alpha as he perched on the corner of the kitchen table. The towel was riding dangerously low around his hips.
Lucas tilted his head. “It depends. Are you going to continue taking the piss out of my tea drinking preferences?”
Oliver smirked as he poured the alpha a cup of black tea, and an Earl Grey for himself. Sighing, he took the box of tiramisu out the fridge and picked up two spoons from the draining board. He groaned when he glanced at the clock and it read 3:37am, and then glared at Lucas who was absentmindedly checking his phone.
“Oh shit,” Oliver said, patting his hips as though he were wearing clothes. “Have you seen my mobile?”
Lucas glanced up. “It might be in the car. Want me to check?”
“N-No, it can wait until morning. Could you try calling it, just in case?”
Lucas nodded as he put the phone on loudspeaker. The dial tone was immediately cut off by “this number cannot be reached.” Oliver threw his head back and groaned. “I bet it’s at the bottom of the pond. And my work phone is on my desk. How am I going to call in sick tomorrow?”
Lucas sucked his teeth. “You can call off mine.”
“Yeah, but then everyone will know… we’re together… again.”
Lucas smirked. “Is that such a bad thing?”
“Yes! What if the Inspector boots you back to the Met for not following his orders? You said yourself, you’re on very thin ice.”
“Reed… I don’t think the Inspector will have a problem with it.”
“What do you mean?”
Rubbing his chin, Lucas stood and picked up his cup. “That is… confidential.”
“Oh piss off, you’re sleeping on the sofa.” Oliver grumbled, taking the tiramisu, two spoons, and his Earl Grey to the bedroom door. Lucas chuckled as he leaned against the countertop, sipping his tea in nothing but a towel like it was the most leisurely thing in the world.
He looked at Oliver over the rim of his cup. “I’ll sleep wherever you want, Reed.”
