Page 114 of In Too Deep

That.

Jake dragged a hand through his hair and looked away. “We’re… I dunno, Ted.” He exhaled heavily. “Complicated.”

Teddy wandered further inside, eyeing the neatly made bed with obvious suspicion. “What ain’t complicated with you?”

“Ha. Aye.” Jake flapped a hand at the bed. “You take that. I’ll swap the sheets.”

Teddy barked out a laugh. “No ta. Not after you were rolling round in it this morning with some random bloke.”

Jake shook his head. “Weren’t random.”

Teddy paused at that. “No?”

“No.”

Teddy cocked his head. “So who was he?”

Jake looked at the bed again. “Someone.”

“That all I’m getting?”

“Someone I like.”

“Name?”

Jake pointed at the tiny bathroom. “Go brush your teeth. I’ll sort the airbed and clear some space.”

Teddy groaned. “Your floor’s gonna kill my back.”

“You’re thirteen. You’ll survive.”

“Barely.”

Jake huffed out the first genuine laugh he’d managed all day as Teddy disappeared into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, and the smile slipped almost immediately.

The bed sat in the middle of the room, neatly made and painfully empty.

Stupid.

It had been empty most nights for years. Jake had always liked it that way. He’d never wanted anyone hanging around long enough to leave a dent in the mattress, never mind give him a reason to notice when they weren’t there.

Harrison had managed both.

This morning he’d been in that bed. In Jake’s space. Warm and rumpled and complicated as fuck. Now Jake had no idea when—or if—he’d be there again.

And maybe that was why Jake had always kept this bit simple. Why he’d fucked blokes and left before morning. Why he’d never given anyone the chance to become someone he expected to find waiting for him.

Because apparently letting someone in wasn’t the frightening part.

It was how fucking empty everything felt when they were suddenly gone.

* * * *

Exhaustion sat so deep in Harrison’s bones it felt permanent.

It was late.

And the cottage greeted him with darkness and silence as he unlocked the door. He dropped his keys into the bowl on the table by the radiator, staring into the empty house as if he’d somehow forgotten why he’d come back to it.