Change My Ticket, page 14
This time, Gabe doesn’t try to hide how he burrows closer. It’s… They’re spooning. Ray is basically spooning Gabe, palm flat on Gabe’s chest, only their duvets maintaining an illusion of platonic distance between them.
Ray’s earlier meditative calm has been shattered into a million pieces. He strives to rebuild it, consciously sitting with the thought of what he wants Gabe to be to him for a couple of deep breaths. Then he lets it go because Gabe trusts him, and Ray would rather cut off his own foot than betray that.
“Okay?” he whispers.
“Yeah. It’s… It’s nice.” Gabe exhales on a quiet sigh. “Never been held in bed before.”
“Never?” Ray didn’t mean to sound so incredulous, but … never? If Gabe wanted to, he could have a different person in his bed all night, every night, and twice on Sundays. Ray ignores the unwarranted jealousy that flickers in his stomach like a case of mercury poisoning.
Gabe’s chuckle turns out watery. “I’m not a blushing virgin. Just … not much experience in the romance department, I guess.”
Because he’s in the closet. At least until his parents drag him out and into the plain light of day first thing tomorrow morning.
Fuck them.
“Sorry for your loss.” Ray aims for a droll tone and hopes he lands in the general vicinity. “If there’s one thing I miss about dating, it’s the romance. Sex is easy to come by, but holding hands, kissing, lying in bed just like this? Not the kind of thing you get just from walking into a bar.”
Of course, romance is also what fades first. The sex, it seems, is the one thing about Ray that doesn’t get boring after a month, at least based on the relative interest shown by his previous boyfriends.
“I can see why,” Gabe says quietly, almost like an admission. “This is nice.”
God. It is, yes—the touch of Gabe’s body against his, Ray’s nose tucked into Gabe’s neck, curls lightly tickling Ray’s forehead. Under his palm, through the thin fabric of Gabe’s T-shirt, Ray imagines he can feel the rhythm of Gabe’s heart, slower now, his breathing easier.
“It is nice, yeah.” Ray swallows around the gentle burn in his throat, something that feels a little like tears. “You should try to get some sleep, all right? Big day tomorrow.” Shit, that’s the last thing Gabe needs to be reminded of. Ray casts around for a quick, harmless reason and lands on, “Because you don’t want to meet my sisters running on an empty tank, trust me.”
“I do,” Gabe says simply. “Trust you, I mean.”
This isn’t real, Ray reminds himself. This is just for tonight, or for a few days. Just until Gabe gets back on his feet and remembers there’s a world out there—a world that will be waiting for him to make his next move. Ray, for one, has no doubt that he’ll hit the ground running.
“Good.” Ray closes his eyes and tightens his hold by just a tiny bit. “Then sleep.”
A whispered “Okay” as Gabe’s chest rises on a long, deep intake of air. A moment later, he exhales, most of the tension in his muscles draining away.
It isn’t long until Gabe drifts off, relaxing further into Ray’s hold. Ray, on the other hand, is awake for a long while after, too aware of every precious second that ticks by, of every tiny change in Gabe’s breathing and the warmth of his body—too aware of Gabe, Gabe, Gabe.
When Ray finally sinks into sleep, he dreams of green eyes and empty corridors.
Chapter Ten
G abe’s first thought is No.
Please, not his alarm. Not another flight, another interview. Not when he’s comfortable for once, and warm.
“You gonna get that?” Ray rumbles from behind him, and, oh. Ray.
Also—not Gabe’s alarm, but his phone.
It’s tempting, so very tempting to just ignore it and keep lying right there, in Ray’s arms. Can’t the rest of the world just wait for a while?
Blessedly, the phone stops ringing before Gabe is forced to make a grab for where he left it, somewhere on the floor. He closes his eyes.
Only for his phone to start ringing again.
Charlie, then. Bloody hell.
With a groan, Gabe twists his upper body so he can reach the floor, trying not to dislodge Ray’s arm as he blindly feels around for the phone. There. He confirms it’s Charlie and accepts the call with a “What do you want?”
“What do I want?” Charlie sounds outraged. “What do I want?! How about a best mate who tells me things!”
Things…
Ah, shit.
“I did! I sent you a text.”
“A text. He sent me a text.” Concern grapples with irritation in Charlie’s voice. “Here’s a hint, Gabe—next time your parents fucking out you in The Daily Mail, you give me a call immediately so I know you’re okay.”
“Technically, they can only out me once.” It probably wasn’t the smartest response Gabe could have picked, but his brain is still operating at reduced speed, half of his focus on the solid warmth of Ray’s body against him—except Ray makes as if to pull away, mumbling something about giving Gabe privacy to talk. Gabe doesn’t want privacy.
“Oh, you’re fucking hilarious,” Charlie gripes.
Gabe hums an acknowledgment even as he holds on to Ray’s hand, turning his head just enough to meet Ray’s eyes. ‘Stay,’ he mouths, and after a moment, Ray settles back against him, flat palm coming to rest against Gabe’s ribs.
“Gabriel Jacob.” Charlie’s tone suggests it might be his second or third attempt to get a response.
“Sorry, yeah. I’m here.” Gabe switches the phone to his other ear so he can rest his head on the pillow. “And I’m sorry I didn’t call you last night. I was just … fucking exhausted, really. It’s been a brutal promo window, and after Walter called me about my parents, I just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for about a century.”
“Fuck, mate. I’m sorry.” Charlie’s voice has lost its sharp edge. “Anything I can do? Does Deb know?”
“Yeah.” Gabe sighs. “She knows, and she’s planning to tell our parents where they can shove it.”
“Honestly, she should’ve done it a long time ago. Would’ve too, if you’d told her the truth.”
It’s not a new discussion—Charlie has always maintained that it isn’t Gabe’s job to protect Deborah, but Charlie doesn’t have siblings, so he can’t possibly understand. Since Gabe doesn’t want to get into it right now, he chooses not to acknowledge Charlie’s point.
After a second, Charlie moves on. “Anyway, Gee, where are you? Still in London? Tell me you made it out before the paps got to you.”
“No paps. I left the hotel in time.” It’s the truth, if not all of it—Gabe has no interest in explaining where, exactly, he’s hiding out while Ray is right there, listening in. Even if all Ray gets is Gabe’s side of the conversation, it would be too revealing.
“Okay, good. Great.” Relief brightens Charlie’s voice. “Now, where do I meet you? Unless—I assume you wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with us, right? Too close?”
Easy questions, difficult answers. Gabe blinks at the green curtains that allow a trickle of morning light into the room. When did he last sleep past dawn? It feels like a decade ago.
He decides to answer the second question first. “Too close, yeah. Plus it’s not a secret you’re my best mate, and I don’t want to encourage a stakeout in front of your house. ”
“Too late. I spotted the first pap when I opened the blinds.” Charlie doesn’t sound particularly bothered. “It’s how I knew something was seriously up.”
“Shit.” Gabe groans. “Your mum will have my hide.”
“Mate, my mum loves you more than I do most days, so you’ll be forgiven. But, yeah. Not much of a secret safe house, this.” The tapping of keys on Charlie’s end, then, “All right, I’m ready to book my trip. Plane or train?”
Christ, it would be good to see Charlie. Gabe swallows around the lump in his throat. “I can’t always expect you to drop everything the minute I’ve got it tough.”
“Oh my God, shut up.” Charlie puffs out an annoyed breath. “You’d do the same for me. You have. Remember Nora?”
Of course Gabe does. She was whiplash smart and funny, and when she moved back to the US, she snapped Charlie’s heart in two. Gabe rescheduled a watch ad campaign he’d been meant to shoot and instead camped out in Charlie’s tiny studio flat for a week, making sure that Charlie ate some food that didn’t come out of a microwave and drank some liquid that didn’t come out of a bottle with a per mille sign.
“I remember Nora, yeah.”
“Good. So I repeat: plane or train?”
Gabe isn’t getting out of this. He doesn’t want to, even—but it means telling Charlie where he’ll be while Ray is right there. The only way to handle it is like ripping off a band-aid: quickly and decisively.
“Train. I’m still in London, but we’re planning to leave here around ten, and then it should be a four-hour drive or so.”
“We.” Charlie manages to pour a world of meaning into the word.
“Ray’s family lives east of Leeds—”
“Colforth,” Ray supplies.
“Colforth,” Gabe echoes dutifully, silently begging Charlie to accept the information and move on. No such luck, of course.
“Ray’s family. Right.” Years of familiarity make it easy to picture Charlie’s face as he says it. “Okay, I’ve got just two questions for you. Yes and no answers will suffice.”
Gabe presses the phone more tightly to his ear. “Shoot.”
“One: Ray invited you to spend Christmas with his family?”
Well, that’s an easy one. “Yes.”
“Good, thank you for playing.” Charlie pauses ominously. “Two: I woke you up, and yet he’s right next to you.”
“That’s a statement,” Gabe tells Charlie because no would be a lie, but yes feels like admitting to more than this is, and with Ray right there, Gabe can’t elaborate.
Charlie snorts. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“It’s your prerogative to do so.”
“Look who’s unpacking the big words.” The clacking of a keyboard underlines Charlie’s words. “All right. I’ll need about three hours to get there, plus some extra time to make sure I don’t bring the lone pap here right to your door. How about I arrive at five?”
“That sounds—” Gabe cuts himself off because he can’t just invite people to Ray’s family home, now can he? “Give me a sec.”
He moves the phone away from his ear and twists around to face Ray. For a beat, he’s caught by how close Ray is, then he shakes himself out of it and focuses on the matter at hand. “Is there a hotel in Colforth?”
The corners of Ray’s eyes crinkle with a warm smile. “I take it Charlie’s coming?”
“Yeah.” When Gabe smiles back, it’s effortless—maybe it’s because right here, with the curtains mostly closed, reality seems very far away. “Like he’d miss the drama.”
“He’s a good friend.” Ray doesn’t phrase it as a question, and there’s nothing in his tone to suggest he’s fishing, but Gabe still feels a need to clarify. Just in case.
“He’s the brother I never had. Like you and Patrick.”
“I had a crush on Patrick in Sixth Form,” Ray offers blithely. “It lasted about three seconds. Don’t tell him, or he’ll be insufferable.”
Huh, the more you know. Gabe snorts. “Random, but thanks for the information, I guess? Anyway, um. About that hotel?”
“There’s a tiny B&B, yeah, but unless he’s allergic to cats, he might as well stay with us, too. Farah won’t get in until tomorrow, so her old room will be empty tonight, and the bed’s big enough for both of you to share.”
So Gabe won’t be sharing with Ray. That’s okay. He didn’t assume he would be, what with Ray’s mum right there and all, hardly the moment to crawl into her son’s bed—not that anything even happened, other than Ray holding Gabe all through the night.
It felt big.
At least it did to Gabe. For Ray, it was probably nothing all that special even though he said he missed that aspect of dating. It definitely wasn’t new for him.
Get back to the point.
“You sure your family won’t mind? You told your mum about me, right?”
“I said I’m bringing a friend, yeah—not who you are, though. We’ll cross that bridge when Allie sees you.”
Since Gabe insisted on learning at least the basics about Ray’s family, his mind fills in the details. Allie, also known as Alisha: Ray’s youngest sister and the one he deemed most likely to freak out, although he sounded confident that she could keep a secret.
“But anyway,” Ray continues. “You’re very welcome, I promise. And Charlie would be welcome, too, as long as he isn’t a picky eater.”
“Ha. More the kind of person who’ll eat you out of house and home.” It’s true, too—if there’s one thing Gabe envies Charlie for, it’s that Charlie has the metabolism of a hummingbird. He can eat anything he wants without gaining so much as a pound, while Gabe is stuck in a tug of war with his muscle-to-fat ratio.
Granted, Gabe’s therapist suggested that it’s primarily a way for him to feel in control. Maybe she’s right, but he’ll still feel better if he finds some way to stay active over the coming days. Colforth is small; there must be some nature running options around.
One problem at a time, though, and Charlie’s waiting for an answer.
“You sure it won’t be an imposition?” Gabe asks, watching Ray’s face closely for any sign of doubt. There is none.
“Seriously, it’ll be absolutely fine. My mum loves a full house.” Ray grimaces. “Or, in her words, ‘I know how to use protection, so four kids were a choice, not an accident. I’d have eight running around if it were up to me.’” Even though Ray’s imitation of his mum is mocking, it’s coated in a layer of deep, genuine affection.
“I’m looking forward to meeting her,” Gabe says, quite honestly. “And you’re sure that—”
He doesn’t get to finish because Ray reaches past him to swipe the phone. With a shrewd look, Ray brings it to his ear. “Hi, mate. Charlie, right? This is Ray. You fine with a homemade dinner tonight, and staying at my family’s place rather than some hotel?”
“Ray!” Gabe hisses.
Ray easily evades Gabe’s attempt to reclaim the phone, rolling away from Gabe as he listens to whatever Charlie is saying. Don’t let it be anything embarrassing, please. Gabe considers draping himself over Ray to make another grab for the phone, but he’s only in his boxers and a T-shirt, and it seems like a risky idea to start wrestling with Ray in bed.
In the end, he acknowledges that there isn’t much of a point in trying to stop this. If things go according to plan, Ray and Charlie will meet tonight—two important parts of Gabe’s world colliding. God, he wants them to get along.
He falls onto his back and idly listens to what sounds like a focused discussion of logistics. It’s only a couple of minutes before Ray passes the phone back, leaving Gabe to say goodbye to Charlie while Ray shuffles out of bed to brush his teeth and get packed up.
Gabe tries not to notice how Ray’s pyjama bottoms cling to his arse. He fails.
***
Since Gabe learned how to drive in the US where the cars are big but the roads are bigger, London city traffic requires his full attention. If anyone asks, he can blame it on the British oddity of driving on the left.
Fortunately, Ray and Patrick seem to sense that he needs to concentrate. It’s only once traffic starts to thin considerably that Ray starts fiddling with the audio system of the rental car that Gabe’s assistant organised, cursing when the bluetooth and his phone refuse to cooperate.
“Try mine,” Gabe suggests with a jerk of his chin at where he placed his phone in the tray between his seat and Ray’s. Last he checked, it was overflowing with messages that he didn’t feel mentally equipped to open—one day, he’ll take a class in Adulting 101, but today is not that day.
“Yours?” Ray asks, as though it’s a foreign concept. “Like, your phone? I don’t want—I could accidentally see something.”
“Unlikely. All my naked selfies are protected by an extra password, and if you’re looking for George Clooney’s number, I’m afraid I don’t have it.”
Ray huffs out a low laugh. “Not looking for a sugar daddy, as a matter of fact.”
What are you looking for, then?
Gabe doesn’t ask. Partly because he can’t afford to care about the answer, not right now, and partly because Patrick is in the backseat and Gabe isn’t quite sure what to make of him. While Patrick has been friendly enough and appeared genuinely sorry for Gabe’s bad luck in the parent department, he’s also been watchful—a quick, sharp glance when Ray helped Gabe hide his recognisable curls under a baseball cap, a curious tilt of the head at how Gabe had Ray’s coffee waiting when Ray returned from his morning shower.
Post-Nora, Gabe would act the same around any potential new girlfriend of Charlie’s. So if that’s what Patrick is doing, Gabe can respect it.
“Adam Driver?” he offers with a brief look at the cut of Ray’s profile. “Pretty sure I do have his number.”
“Getting warmer,” Ray says with another laugh. “But I’m good. One movie star is all the excitement I can handle.”
There’s a flirty comeback about to trip off Gabe’s tongue. He swallows it back down and tells Ray his code instead. For a minute, it’s quiet in the car as Ray successfully connects Gabe’s phone, then scrolls through his music.
“Why are all your playlists either heavy beats or chill piano classical?”
“And podcasts.” Gabe checks the mirrors before overtaking a truck that’s crawling along. “The beats are for working out, the piano is for trying to sleep on a flight.”
Ray shakes his head. “Your carbon footprint must be gigantic.”
“Yeah, ‘fraid it is.” Back into the left lane just as the GPS chirps about an upcoming exit. “My assistant makes sure to offset each flight, but it’s probably just a modern version of selling indulgences. Guess my parents will be gratified to see me rotting in hell after all—if there is one.”
