Men of London 03 - Suit Yourself (19 page)

Oliver passed a trembling hand over his
forehead. “Who’s Frankie?”

“He works at the building site next door to
work. He’s been trying to get me to go out with him for ages but
I’ve been telling him no. Because I have you.” His voice quailed.
“I do have you, don’t I?”

Oliver tried to process all the thoughts
spiralling in his head. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I don’t know.
I can’t think.”

Leslie reached for his hand. “Frankie is just
a friend. He’s the son of the guy who owns the construction
company. We see each other now and then when he goes out for a
smoke, or pops in to say hi at work.”

The kiss, Gregori’s words, the knowledge of
who Oliver had been and who he now was, the fact someone else
wanted Leslie, someone who could probably offer him so much
more…they all flooded his brain with images and sensations and he
felt the familiar darkness creeping up.

“Look, Leslie, I don’t feel so well. I’m
going to call a taxi and go home and get some sleep. I need to be
alone for a while, you know? This is all a bit much and I need to
shut off for a bit.” He stood up, hating the stricken look on his
boyfriend’s face, the pain in his eyes.

“Uhm, yes, okay. If that’s what you need to
do. Of course. Let me call you a cab…“

“No.” Oliver’s voice came out sterner than
he’d meant it to and Leslie’s eyes flickered. “I can do this
myself. You get back to your party and celebrations and I’ll call
you tomorrow.” He walked away, tears stinging his eyes, not wanting
to see whatever devastation he was leaving behind. He needed to do
this—leave and not look back before he lost it completely.

*
*
*

Leslie slumped down on a chair, his hands
trembling, the numb feeling in his chest threatening to take over.
What the fuck had happened tonight? One minute everything was going
fantastically and they were well on their way to Oliver’s house for
a night of loving, and the next, his lover was walking away, alone,
with a look on his face that left Leslie cold inside. Over a kiss?
He wondered who’d told Oliver about it.

“Fuck you, Frankie,” he muttered softly. “Why
did you have to do that?”

In truth, he couldn’t blame Frankie for this
one. The look in Oliver’s eyes, the despair on his face—that hadn’t
simply been from the kiss incident. Something else was going on, he
was sure of it. Perhaps he had pushed Oliver too hard. Perhaps
seeing all these beautiful people around him had pushed him over
the edge.

“He looked so lost,” Leslie whispered. “Like
he has nothing. But he has me.”

He knew he had fallen head over heels for
Oliver Brown. The desire to shout out the words ‘I love you’ had
taunted Leslie more than once, but he’d resisted. It was too soon,
surely, he’d told himself, even when he knew it was the truth. He’d
never felt about anyone the way he felt about Oliver.

And now it seemed his world had changed and
all he could hope was that he’d get the chance to tell Oliver the
words he’d been holding back. And the night had only just begun. In
the distance, he saw Taylor frown and start walking toward him. The
man’s sixth sense was uncanny. Leslie could only watch with dread
in his heart as his friend approached with a worried look as Leslie
tried to hold the tears at bay.

Chapter 14

Oliver paced up and down the lounge as he watched
the street. He was on tenterhooks waiting for Leslie to get here.
After he’d got home last night, he’d stripped off his clothes and
fallen straight into bed. His sleep had been uneasy, troubled with
thoughts and emotions that he didn’t want to name. Finally he’d
fallen asleep, after making the decision that was currently making
his stomach grumble and cramp in anxiety.

The text he’d sent to Leslie this morning had
been simple enough.

Morning. Can you maybe come
over later? I really need to see you.

Leslie’s reply text had come over within a
minute of him sending his.

Of course. Hope you’re
feeling better. I’ll be there around midday. Got something to tell
you too. xxoo

He saw Leslie walking up the path, hugging
his arms around his body. Oliver moved away from the window and
waited for the doorbell. It sounded and he walked over and opened
the door. Leslie stood there, impeccable as always in tight dark
jeans, high-heeled boots and a deep blue turtleneck. He had a
bright rainbow-coloured scarf draped around his neck. He looked a
little uncertain.

“Hi. Come in.” Oliver stood back, his heart
hammering with apprehension and grief. He wanted to vomit the
cereal he’d eaten this morning into the nearest receptacle. Instead
he watched Leslie brush past him, a worried smile on his face.

“I was so pleased to get your text to come
over. You worried me last night. The guys were worried, too. I said
you’d had a bit of a panic attack and needed to go home.” His look
of concern made Oliver want to run and never come back. He didn’t
think he could bear to see the hurt on Leslie’s face when he told
him the news.

It’s the right thing to
do
, he told himself.
Leslie deserves more
than this. He’s too damned good for the likes of someone like me.
I’ll just hold him back.

“Sit down, Leslie. Please.” He waved toward
the sofa and Leslie looked at him curiously.

“Are you okay? You sound a bit strange.”
Leslie came toward Oliver, his intention to steal a hello kiss
obvious. Oliver moved away and stood behind the couch. If Leslie
kissed him, held him, he’d cave in and not do this. He needed to be
strong for Leslie’s sake.

His lover’s face shadowed, and Oliver saw the
realisation on it that whatever news he was about to be told, it
wasn’t good. Leslie’s eyes widened, his face paled and he stared at
Oliver like someone had just stolen his favourite teddy bear. His
voice, when he spoke, was husky, uncertain.

“Oliver? What’s going on?” His shoulders
hunching over, Leslie gripped the top of the couch.

Oliver took a deep breath and broke his own
heart. “I’ve been doing some thinking and this isn’t working
anymore for me.”

Leslie’s blue eyes darkened. “What isn’t
working for you, Oliver? Us? Is it because of that damn kiss from
Frankie?” His fingers gripped the couch, his knuckles whitening. He
swallowed and gazed at Oliver steadily.

Oliver nodded and wanted to crawl into a dark
pit at the flash of pain that crossed Leslie’s face. “No, I believe
you on the kiss. I just don’t think I’m ready for all this yet. I
thought I was and I know this is coming as a bit of a surprise to
you, but I don’t want to lead you on anymore.”

Leslie’s tongue came out and wet his lips as
he nodded. “I see. What happened between last night and today? Your
text said you really needed to see me. I thought it was all
okay…”

“Nothing happened. I just figured out what I
wanted, that’s all.”

“And it isn’t me.” Leslie straightened up,
and Oliver saw his hands were trembling. His eyes glistened. “What
did I do? Did I do something wrong? I know I can come on too
strong, but I can tone it down, I promise…”

Oliver’s heart shattered into a million tiny
shards that threatened to drive deep into his flesh and bleed him
dry. Leslie’s persona was exactly what made him love him so much.
This man should never have to change who he was.

Oh God, give me strength to
do this.

“No Leslie, it’s not you at all. It’s just
this all went too far, too quickly, and I need space. And I don’t
want the pressure of being in a relationship while I figure out
what I want to do.”

You need to find somebody
who will worship you like I do, but without all the baggage. Not a
washed up ex-drug addict porn star with a scarred face and a trunk
full of insecurities. You deserve to shine, like the star you
are.

“Oh.” Leslie’s eyes shimmered and he
swallowed again. “So that’s it then? It’s over?” His shoulders
hunched, and his eyes sparkled with tears. Oliver watched as one
trickled down and he ached to wipe it off his porcelain cheek.

“I’m sorry, Leslie. I didn’t set out in this
meaning to hurt you, but you know my background. You know what I’ve
been doing the past two years and I need that solitude back. It’s
better that way.”

Leslie shook his head. “What if I don’t
accept that? I don’t want to break up, Oliver. I love you. That’s
what I wanted to tell you. I don’t want to leave.” His voice grew
stronger as he stood up straight and glared at Oliver. One hand
came up to fiercely brush the tear off his cheek. “When do I get a
say in this? I’ll give you time if that’s what you need, plenty of
it. Just please don’t send me away. Please don’t do this.”

Oliver tried to keep the quake from his voice
at the words
I love you
. They struck his
heart with the ferocity of an arrow and left him mortally wounded.
“I’m sorry. I’ve thought a lot about this and it’s what I want.
There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

You don’t really love me,
Leslie. You just think you do. Now, you have to leave,
now.

The tension in the air was palpable and when
Leslie spoke again, his voice was tight and controlled. “Suit
yourself, Oliver. I can see you’ve convinced yourself that this is
what you want to do, so I guess I can’t argue. I don’t know what
the hell is going on with you, but I don’t think this is what you
really want. “

He knows me too well. He
sees right inside me.

Leslie moved toward the door, his slender
frame taut and angry. “I’ll leave then. When you come to your
senses, call me. I’ll be there, waiting. And if you don’t call…” he
shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll know I was wrong about you and about
everything I thought we had.” He laughed harshly. “It wouldn’t be
the first time and it probably won’t be the last. I guess I’m too
damn trusting.”

He reached the door and put his hand on the
door handle. Oliver waited, ready to bolt to the bathroom and be
ill the minute Leslie left. His lover turned around and the despair
on his face was more than Oliver could bear.

He stood firm. “Thanks for understanding,
Leslie. I hope you find the right man to love you one day.”

Leslie stared at him, his face flooded with
pain. “I thought I already had,” he said quietly. Then he opened
the door and walked out of Oliver’s house—out of his life.

Oliver had never felt so dark and despairing,
even when he’d been in the hospital. His legs threatened to
collapse and as Leslie shut the door behind him, Oliver sank to the
floor and wept tears of blood and grief as his broken heart
exploded.

Chapter 15

Leslie burrowed down deeper into the covers and
tried to ignore the persistent throb in his head from the alcohol
he’d drunk the night before. He opened bleary eyes and peered at
the clock. His heart pounded when he realised it was already
eight-thirty am He was supposed to be at work.

“Shit. Fuck.” He pushed back the covers, and
sat up, wincing as his brain felt like it was smashed against the
inside of his skull.

“I am never drinking tequila again,” he vowed
as he made his unsteady way to the shower. He thought he might
still be a little bit drunk. “And I am definitely not doing karaoke
with Eddie ever again. Who knew the man could sing like that?”

Last night his friends, worried at his
depression over Oliver splitting up with him, and fed up of him
wallowing in his flat for the past week and a half, had taken him
to a karaoke bar in Soho, not far from Galileo’s. They’d all four
come by, threatened to knock the door down and then, when he opened
it, made him shower, dress and come out with them.

He scowled as he got into the scalding
shower. Getting on stage with Eddie, and hearing him belt out
‘Mustang Sally’ like a pro, complete with the gravelly voice, had
left Leslie as envious as hell. He’d always wanted to be able to
sing, but didn’t really have the voice. Gideon’s pride at his
boyfriend’s achievement had definitely promised dividends later and
the gooey-eyed looks they thrown at each other had made Leslie sick
with despair because he had lost Oliver and had no one anymore.

Well, except Frankie. Sort of. If Leslie
chose to go down that road.

He and Frankie had been on a couple of
non-dates
as friends
, as Leslie had told
him firmly. They’d been to the movies, eaten pizza and had a few
drinks together. As much as he enjoyed the ebullient Frankie’s
company, Leslie really wasn’t ready for any sort of relationship
now. The last one had taken it all out of him.

Last night Draven had been showing Taylor
magic tricks and making him all
wow, look at you,
you stud,
which again promised some late-night activity, and
Leslie had got fed up with being the fifth wheel. He knew they
didn’t mean to be insensitive about his single status, but they
just couldn’t help themselves.

He’d finally left his friends singing
‘Dancing Queen’ on the stage and gone home to a bottle of his own
tequila.
That
decision he was really
regretting.

He smirked. At least he’d got something out
of the evening. He’d videotaped the guys singing ABBA and already
uploaded it to his YouTube account. Now
that
was a decision
they
might regret.

He got into work around nine-thirty, prepared
to face his boss’s ire. Surprisingly enough no one said anything to
him and he thought he might have gotten away with it.

When he was summoned to Laverne’s office
around ten, he sighed. He knew it had been too good to be true. He
knocked on his boss’s door and heard her loud ‘Enter.’ When he went
in, Laverne waved a hand toward the chair.

“Have a seat, sweetie.”