Page 45 of Gideon (Finding Home #3)

I start to laugh incredulously. “Really?” I’d wanted desperately to do the show.

It’s a fantasy series based on a set of incredibly well-written books, and there isn’t a taboo they haven’t covered.

The part they’d offered me had been as a baddie, and it was incredibly juicy.

I had been so looking forward to doing it, having grown tired of the perfect-looking characters Frankie kept putting me up for. Boring heroes.

“Well, I don’t know whether you’re aware, but I actually haven’t got a manager anymore.”

“Mate, that’s very good news,” he says warmly. “I don’t like Frankie. Never did.” He pauses. “So what are you going to do?”

I shrug. “Interview new ones.”

“Well, if I might make a suggestion, my manager, Max, is the best. He’s old school, though, so don’t expect any smoke blowing up your arse.”

“How disappointing,” I murmur, and he laughs. It’s contagious, making me smile.

“How about you meet him?”

“I’d like that,” I say, suddenly feeling like I’ve had a road appear under my feet that’s never been there before. It might end up leading me off a cliff, but it’s a path I’m choosing to tread myself rather than being forced to follow.

“I know, how about seeing as you’re in Cornwall, you come for a couple of days and stay with me and Jude in Devon? We’d love to have you.”

“Would I be okay to bring my partner?” I ask, the words sounding awkward but good at the same time.

“Mate, we’d love to meet him. What’s his name?”

“Eli,” I say, and I can’t even say his name without smiling. “Eli Jones.”

Five minutes later, with a weekend invitation secured and the offer of a plum role extended, I come back into the study to find Niall and Silas standing alone talking.

“Where’s Eli?” I ask immediately. Panic fills me. “Has he gone?”

“No,” Silas says quickly. “Of course he’s still here. He’s not going anywhere far from you.” I relax, and he pats my arm. “He’s gone with Oz and Milo to make something to eat.” He smiles at me. “You did well, son.”

I feel warm inside at that. Silas’s good opinion has always been something I’ve yearned for and never quite had the feeling that I’d got. “It had to be done. I had to be honest.”

“I’m incredibly proud of you,” he says calmly, and we smile at each other. “You did well with finding Eli too. I couldn’t have picked someone better than him for you.” My smile widens. Somehow, praise for Eli means more to me than praise for myself.

“Probably good that you didn’t try,” Niall says tartly, slinging his arm around my neck and hugging me tight for a second. “Given Silas’s taste in men runs to impossibly bossy Irishmen, I’d count yourself lucky, Gid. You’d have spent your time being told what to do by a very loud person.”

“Ah, Eli has his moments,” I say slowly.

Silas smiles and looks at me contemplatively. “What?” I ask, slightly worried. “Why are you looking like that at me?”

“Do you want a house on the grounds?”

“What?”

“You can have the cottage you’re in now or any of the free ones if you want something bigger.”

“Why?”

“Because I like my family around me,” he says calmly.

Niall grins. “Come on, Gid, you know you want to live with us forever and ever.”

“No, I bloody don’t,” I say in a revolted tone. “It’s like you’re setting up a gay commune. We’ll be wearing robes and chanting next.”

“Well, I’ll leave that to you with your extensive knowledge of meditation,” Silas says smoothly.

I sigh. “Eli told you, didn’t he?”

He breaks into peals of laughter, joined by Niall.

I smile at them affectionately. “I don’t want a house here, but I am intending to buy nearby if Eli wants to.” Silas smiles and I grin at him. “You twats are the closest thing I have to family.”

“Gideon, you’re virtually a poet,” Niall says.

“I know. Don’t try and copy me,” I say loftily. “There’s only one of me.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he says calmly. “I’d be belted one within the first twenty minutes.”

I laugh and suddenly Eli is at the door, followed by Milo and Oz carrying a tray of food. They’re laughing together. I clear my throat. Eli jumps, and when he turns and sees me his smile widens and heats, making me swallow.

“Can you leave us?” I say abruptly, and everyone turns and stares at me. I shift slightly awkwardly. “I mean can I be alone with Eli, please.” They don’t move and I wrinkle my brow. “Now,” I suggest.

Oz laughs loudly. “How is it that Milo has trouble asking for anything that he wants and Gideon never stops?”

Silas snorts and they pass me, Oz smiling at me with a light of what looks like approval in his eyes.

Milo and Niall come towards me. “Well done,” Niall says, and I grin at my oldest friend. His approval has always meant a great deal to me.

“Thank you,” I say hoarsely.

Milo hugs me, and I hug him back, inhaling his sweet, herby scent and feeling most of his hair attempt to insert itself up my left nostril. He pulls back and cups my face. “I am so very proud of you,” he says carefully but very clearly, and I feel tears in my eyes.

“That matters a great deal to me,” I say hoarsely. “You’ll never know how much.”

“I do,” he says serenely. “I love you very much, Gideon, and I’m proud to be your brother.”

Then he and Niall are gone, and I stare after them, feeling like I’ve been punched in the face. “Did you hear that?” I say, slowly turning to look at Eli.

He’s right in front of me and all I can see are his clear olive-green eyes, the open and freckled face, his steady smile and warm eyes, and suddenly I need him so badly I could cry.

“Oh God, can you hold me? I need you so fucking much,” I whisper. I have never in my life begged anyone for anything since I was seven. Only him. Because he’s safe, and I know he’s all mine.

Instantly he opens his arms, and when I step into them and his scent enfolds me, I feel like a tortoise must feel who’s stepped back into his shell. Safe and warm and calm for the first time on this hellish day.

The words spin out of me like I’ve been whirled around and had them shaken free.

“I love you,” I say into his throat. “I love you so fucking much. You’re everything to me.

Please don’t ever leave me.” His arms tighten hard around me, banding almost painfully as he sucks in a breath.

“Too tight,” I gasp and instantly he pushes me back slightly.

I utter a faint sound of protest, and he pulls me closer. Unable to look into his eyes, I look down at the battered old Converse he wears everywhere and run my fingers over the cotton of his shirt. I feel almost flayed open. I have never been as honest with another person as I have him.

“Gideon,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Look at me, cariad .” My eyes instantly shoot to his and I relax immediately because no one could mistake the love shining back at me. “I love you too,” he says, his Welsh voice soft, devotion running through it. For me. I feel humbled.

“You do?”

He nods. “I do. I have for a long while now.” He cups my cheekbones, his big hands warm on my face, and I realise how cold I’ve felt being away from him today.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t respond well in Milo’s garden. I was just so shocked and–”

“Ssh,” he says, stroking my hair back. “I know, Gid. You didn’t upset me.”

“Really?” I say doubtfully. His look in that garden has been in my head since I left him there looking like I’d punched him.

He shrugs. “Maybe from now on, though, we work as a team. You don’t have to talk to me immediately, but you do have to tell me that there’s a problem and you want to talk at some point.

As long as I know that I can help you, I’m okay with doing it at your pace.

” He pauses. “Although maybe not as slow as this time. That was glacier slow.”

I nod quickly. “I promise,” I say. “And, Eli, you have to tell me too.” I fidget with his collar after sneaking a quick look at his calm and merry eyes.

“I just want you to be happy and stay with me. That’s all I really want, and I’m not very good at being with people,” I say in a sudden rush.

“I don’t spot hurt feelings well, and I know I’m a bastard.

I’m opinionated, bossy, and rather cavalier with people’s feelings.

I don’t play well with other people. I’m messy, can’t cook properly, and it turns out I’m also rather careless with my money. ”

“Hush,” he says, looking like he’s trying not to laugh. “Gid, I know you inside out and I have to say, sweetheart, that’s how you’ve been with other people. Not with us. In all the time I’ve known you, you have never discounted my feelings.”

“Maybe that’s a fluke,” I say, trying for total honesty.

He laughs almost helplessly. “I don’t think it is, but to make really sure, how about we try to help each other?” He sobers. “I have to tell you that I’m incredibly proud of you. You did a very big thing today.”

“Maybe it was only a big thing in my head.” I sigh. “I should have done it fucking years ago.”

“How do you feel?”

I lean my forehead down on his shoulder, feeling myself rest against him and how he holds me up. I have to do the same for him, I remind myself. I can’t always take. I have to give him this support too.

“I feel free,” I say slowly. “And scared out of my wits because my career is probably finished. While I was in the car coming back, Hal Finchley rang and said he couldn’t use me in the film. Said I wasn’t the right fit.”

“Bastard,” he says, his Welsh accent sounding loudly in his agitation. “Wanker. He’s a complete cockwomble. Wait, are you smiling? Have you gone loony ?”

“I’m smiling because I never wanted to play that role anyway. It was so fucking boring . I’m also smiling because Asa Jacobs rang me ten minutes ago and offered me a job I’ve had my eye on for years. It’s a baddie.”

“Well, you’ll be good at that.”

“I’m not sure what that means,” I say slowly.

“No,” he says cheerfully. “That’s good, then.”

I shake my head and he smiles, looking at me curiously. “You could have lied and gone on with pretending. I’d have stayed. You know that, don’t you?”

“Not like that,” I say quickly. “It was because of you, Eli. You’re too important to me. I did consider it,” I add hastily, trying to get the honesty out, to tell him my sins. “I have to tell you that. I could have stayed in the closet. I had my career to think of and all the money.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I discovered something I want more than money and fame.” He looks at me, and I smile and pull him close.

“I want to hold your hand walking down the street. I want to kiss you when I feel like it. I want us to live together and have a future, and I can do none of that if I’m not honest with myself and society and, most importantly, with you.

You’re everything to me. You’re kind and funny and clever and wise and just being with you makes me want to be a better person.

Makes me feel like I am a better person because you love me. ”

“I do,” he says clearly. “I love you very much, and I’m so very fucking proud of you. Whatever happens, that will never change.”

“Hope not. Because I’m probably going to be walking in the ruins of my career for a long time, and you’ll more than likely be supporting me.”

“That’s fine,” he says loftily. “I’ll buy you all the Pot Noodles you can ask for, pretty baby.”

I flutter my eyelashes. “I’ve always fancied being a kept man. Pot Noodles sound a lot better than diamonds and pearls.”

“You can do that, then,” he says airily. “I’ll dress you in satin and feathers and you can watch This Morning whenever you like.”

I snort. “My hero.”

He smiles at me, the laughter fading to something soft and sweet. “How about we just support each other with the knowledge that none of that fucking matters at all? Only this thing here – this love between us – matters, and it’s the only thing that ever will.”

We kiss as the late evening sun dances in my hair, and I feel alive right down to my fingertips for the first time in years. Alive but contrarily…

“I feel peaceful, Eli,” I say wonderingly as we pull back for breath. “I’ve never felt that before. It’s nice.”

“That’s because you’re settling into yourself,” he says as wisely as ever. “There’s peace in the knowledge that you like yourself enough to show yourself to the world. It’s a form of coming home.”

“No, you’re my form of coming home, and you always will be.”

I hug him close, inhaling the scent of coconut and laundry detergent.

All my life I’ve had glib words on my tongue for every situation.

I’ve talked myself out of and into more trouble than I could ever count.

But with him, my glibness falters under the beauty and simplicity of his own words spoken in those low Celt tones.

Maybe I’ve lost the facility now because I don’t need them anymore.

Because with him I’m finally myself, and I’m easy and content in that knowledge.