Page 104 of Best Supporting Actor

“Are you up for a visitor, Jay? Your friend Tag is here—I’ve left him kicking his heels in the orangery. Do you want me to chuck him out, or are you happy to see him?”

Tag was here?Jay’s heart leapt with a sudden and undeniable gladness that took his breath away. Clumsily, he got to his feet, nearly tripping over his chair in his eagerness. “Yeah, I’ll see him.”

Phil looked mildly amused. “Righto,” he said cheerfully, stepping fully into the kitchen and opening the door wide to let Jay pass through. “You know the way, son.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

Tag

Last time Tag had visited Amanda Fyffe’s house, for the party, he hadn’t really noticed how grand it was. Probably because he’d been so caught up in Jay that night.

Today, though, on his own and in the bright, unforgiving light of day, it was impossible to miss. He passed through electronic gates bristling with CCTV cameras, walked up a vast, sweeping drive through beautiful grounds, and was faced with a gorgeous mansion house complete with an honest-to-godturret… not to mention its own orangery. That’s where Phil, Amanda’s husband who had met him at the front door, was now leaving him.

“Grab a seat,” Phil said with an easy smile. “I’ll just get Jay. Cordy’s had him cornered in the kitchen for the last forty minutes.”

“Oh,” Tag said, dismayed. “I don’t want to interrupt them. I can wait till they’re done.”

But Phil just twinkled at him—a neat trick that, since he didn’t actually change his expression—and said, “Oh, I think he’ll be happy enough to be interrupted.”

Whether Phil thought Jay would be glad because it was Tag, or because Jay would want to escape his mother, Tag never got a chance to ask—the man was already heading out the door.

Tentatively, Tag lowered himself onto a small rattan sofa with off-white cushions, but when he couldn’t stop his knees bouncing nervously, he got back up and began pacing around. The sun was out today, and though it wasn’t especially warm outside, the glass roof and doors of the orangery trapped the heat. Feeling uncomfortably warm and sweaty, Tag yanked his hoodie off over his head. The movement took his t-shirt with it, baring his chest—which was of course the exact moment that the door opened and someone walked in.

“Um, Tag?”

Jay’s voice.

Flustered, Tag fought to shove his t-shirt back down before wrestling the hoodie off. “Hi! Hi. Sorry about that,” he babbled as he freed himself. “It's so warm in here and I was just—” He broke off as his gaze tangled with Jay’s.

Neither of them spoke and the silence felt heavy, full of last night’s argument and this morning’s regrets.

“Are you okay?” Tag managed, at last.

Jaylookedgood, perfect somehow, even in simple jeans and a t-shirt, and those horn-rimmed glasses that Tag liked so much. Jay was always hot, of course, but today? Well, it was impossible not to notice how much less tense he looked than he had these last few days. And thank God for that; Tag had been afraid Jay might be… Well, he’d been afraid.

“You look good,” he croaked. “Better, I mean. Not that you looked bad! Just stressed and—shit, I’m messing this up already, aren’t I?”

Jay smiled. “It’s okay. I probably do look a lot better. I just slept the whole night through for the first time all week. I didn’t realise how exhausted I was.” He gave an awkward laugh and shoved his hands in his back pockets.

Why was he standing so far away, Tag thought helplessly. Not that the physical distance really mattered. A different sort of gap had opened up between them since their argument that felt totally unbridgeable, regardless of how far apart they stood.

“How about you?” Jay prompted. “Areyouokay?”

Tag gave a short laugh. “I don’t think I slept as well as you.” He offered a wry smile. “My own fault. Guilty conscience, I suppose.”

Jay’s gaze was direct, his expression difficult to read. “Guilty conscience?”

Tag swallowed, then forced himself to pull the bandage right off. “Yeah,” he husked. “I was a shit last night, Jay, and I’msosorry. You know I can be hot-headed sometimes, but that’s no excuse. I wish I could take it back.”

“Which part?”

“All of it. You were suffering and all I could talk about was how your situation would affect me, and the play.” He shook his head, ashamed. “I was so selfish. I should have been trying to help you, not putting pressure on you to ignore how you felt and just soldier on. Fuck, I even took your meds off of you.” He closed his eyes, disgusted with himself. “I wouldn’t blame you if you never talked to me again.”

Jay didn’t say anything right away, just stood there, searching Tag’s face. Then he sighed. “You’re not the only one who said things they regret. I did too. That crap about you only wanting good reviews and to be recognised as the star? That’s bullshit, and even when I said it, I knew it.”

“I don’t blame you for thinking that.”

“Well, you should,” Jay said shortly. “Because it’s not true. You’ve been amazing to work with. Rehearsing this play has probably been the best experience of my professional life.” He gave a soft, wondering laugh and added, “It’s been like being back at drama school—excited for every day, completely focused on the work.”