Page 86 of Cream & Sugar

Freddie laughs.

“Suppose I should, given the chills and all. Although…” He sidles up to the counter beside me. “I’ve heard the best way to warm up is full contact. Skin-on-skin. Back on the sofa we were both fully clothed. Maybe we should”—Freddie’s fingers trace a tantalising line up his abs—“heat things up for round two?”

My mouth has gone dry. I somehow manage to tear my eyes away from Freddie long enough to pick up his hot chocolate and hand it to him.

“You’re high,” I remind him.

He takes the hot chocolate with a sheepish grin. “Only a wee bit.”

We retire to the sofa and sit in silence for a couple of minutes while Freddie drinks.

“This is really fucking good,” he says, licking cream from his lips. “Seriously, have you thought about making these for a living?”

I roll my eyes. Then, because I can’t wait any longer, I ask, “Are you going to tell me what happened tonight?”

The playfulness disappears from Freddie’s eyes as he takes another sip. “Sure, but fair warning, you’re gonna think I’m a dick.”

“Too late,” I jibe, though his smile has completely faded now. Okay Shaun, not the time for jokes. “Sorry. Kidding. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I am curious how you ended up here in the middle of the night, half-frozen.”

Freddie stares into the depths of his mug.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I just… I didn’t…” His eyes meet mine and my chest tightens. They’re full of tears. He sniffs, his lower lip bunching like a crumpled ribbon. “I did something bad, Shaun.”

He sounds devastated. I’m a little taken aback; I’ve never seen Freddie act anything but confident.

“How bad?” I ask, struggling to imagine what terrible thing he could possibly have done.

Freddie twists his finger around a loose thread from the towel. “Remember this morning when you picked me up? When we left the house, do you remember me locking the front door?”

I cast my mind back, but I hadn’t been paying attention. Truth be told, I was still shellshocked from encountering Freddie in his underwear.

“No. Why?”

Freddie’s shoulders slump and he lets out a low groan.

“Because I didn’t. I forgot to lock it and—” he shuts his eyes in a pained grimace, “—and that’s how the burglars walked straight in.”

“The—,” the penny drops, “oh no. Oh, Freddie! Are you serious? You wereburgled?”

He gives a weak nod. “They took everything. All Rory’s expensive kit. And the insurance won’t cover it because it was completely my fault. So yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t message you back, but I just felt so bad. I went for a drink and a walk and I kept on walking and… well, you can guess the rest.”

I blow out a long breath. No wonder he’s spiralling. The guilt would tear anyone apart. “But you’re okay, right? Your brother’s okay?”

A huff of dry laughter from Freddie.

“Define ‘okay’. He’s furious. He’s got no stuff and a moron for a brother. Plus, he’s making me pay him back for all of it. Not that I’d expect any different, mind. But still, there goes my life for the next few years.”

I recall how nice everything in Freddie’s house was and shudder.

“How much?” I ask.

Freddie hangs his head.

“You don’t want to know.” He places the half-drunk hot chocolate down on the coffee table and runs a hand through his damp hair. “Man, I’m such an idiot!”

“Hey!” I slice the air apart with my hands. “Enough of that, okay? It was a mistake. A pretty big one, sure, but that does not make you an idiot.”

Freddie shakes his head. “I’m always ruining shit for him. I used to think it was funny how annoyed he’d get over the littlest things but now it’s like, well, maybe Iwasthe problem all along, you know? Maybe he’d be better off without me?”