Page 7 of Leather and Longing (Island Tales #3)

Chapter Five

The front door closed with a decisive bang. Adam sat rigid in the armchair, listening as Paul’s footsteps crunched on the gravel drive. A car door slammed, the engine coughed, then growled into life. Tires crunched, faded. Silence spread its wings.

He exhaled, the breath shuddering out of him as though it had been caged. Relief, he told himself. That was what he felt. But beneath it, something raw lingered. Guilt, maybe.

He’d snapped at Paul, flung words like knives, all acid and venom.

He hadn’t wanted to sense that calm, unshaken presence lingering in the doorway while Adam tore into him.

Every syllable had been calculated to wound, to drive the man out of his life.

And yet Paul had stood there, silent, absorbing the storm without flinching.

And then, instead of slamming the door and leaving for good, he had simply said, “I’ll be back in the morning.”

That had rattled Adam more than anything.

Why wasn’t he gone? Everyone else had left quickly enough.

Adam pressed his fists into his thighs, feeling the tension coil.

He’d treated Paul no worse than the others.

Maybe worse, if he thought about it. So why was his chest tight, his thoughts circling, his tongue dry as though he’d swallowed ashes?

He should feel triumphant. Instead, the silence in the wake of Paul’s departure pressed heavy against his skin.

The library had become his refuge these past weeks, the one room he could still navigate without stumbling like a drunk.

Even so, he’d had his reminder just yesterday.

One misstep on the way to the toilet, one forgotten angle of the rug beneath his chair, and he’d gone sprawling.

His chin cracked on the edge of the table, his glasses skidding across the floor.

The pain had been sharp, but worse was the helpless flailing, the time it took him to orient himself, to find the chair, his glasses, to push back to his feet.

No one had been there. No one had known. The empty house had swallowed his curses.

It was then, sprawled on the rug with the taste of blood in his mouth, that a treacherous thought had slipped in.

What if someone had been here?

Not to pity him, not to hover, but simply to witness. To steady him if he fell too far.

Today, Paul had been in the house, working in the kitchen. He’d been upstairs too: the creaks above Adam’s head were testament to that. And Adam had ignored him. Pretended he didn’t exist. Because acknowledging him meant acknowledging Adam couldn’t do everything alone anymore.

That was the truth of it.

Paul was different. He’d made more of an impact than all the others put together.

They’d been all too eager to help him, hovering about him.

They’d spoken to him with voices cloyed with sympathy and forced brightness, until Adam had wanted to scream at them.

Paul had given as good as he’d got, but more than that, he’d made an effort.

That compilation of speeches had been inspired.

Paul didn’t cluck or fuss like the others.

Neither did he narrate his every move in a bright, brittle tone that grated like glass.

He simply moved around the room with a kind of quiet certainty, shifting things just enough so Adam wouldn’t stumble, but never announcing it.

He’d left space where space was needed. He’d respected the silence Adam wore like armour.

And Adam had hated him for it, because that silence was harder to push away than any false cheer.

Now, the house was empty again. Silent, yes, but not peaceful. The silence pressed against him in a different way, jagged and hollow. He told himself having someone else under his roof had unsettled his routine.

The ache in his chest whispered otherwise.

He’d tried to make Paul leave. He’d sharpened his words to razors. And yet, here he was, unsettled by the possibility Paul might not return.

Adam ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, darkness blooming behind the lids. Why does it matter? He wanted to drive him away. That was the plan. He had no need for a companion, no need for a stranger to see him stumble, to witness every weakness.

So why did the thought of that car not turning back onto the drive in the morning feel like defeat?

The phone rang, cutting through his reflections, and he concentrated on the mechanical voice issuing from the machine as it translated a text message into speech.

Hi Adam, Caro here. I trust all is going well with Paul. If you need anything, let me know and I’ll be there.

He shuddered. Caroline coming there was the last thing he wanted. If he had to listen one more time to her telling him that there were places on the island where he’d be better off, more facilities, more people around him, Adam was going to….

Yeah? What will you do? What can you do?

Paul lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, arms folded under his head.

So much for getting out from under Dad’s feet.

He’d arrived home, his bags clutched in his hands, and had had to explain things hadn’t gone according to plan.

Once he’d gotten his parents to understand that no, he hadn’t just lost his new job, but that he’d be staying with them for the foreseeable future, his dad had relaxed.

After dinner, however, Paul had been subjected to the ‘so when do you think you’ll be able to afford a place of your own?

’ discussion. Like he had an answer. He’d retorted that maybe this particular topic of conversation could wait until he’d actually been paid.

This is a nightmare .

His phone trilled. Paul answered when he saw Taylor’s name. “Hey.”

“God, you sound cheerful.”

Paul was so not in the mood. “Listen, you’d sound like me if you’d had the day I’ve had.” He filled Taylor in on the events so far.

“Aw, that’s crap.” Taylor sounded as gloomy as Paul felt. “What are you gonna do?”

“Consider my options. And if it continues, think about quitting.” He wasn’t sure what else he could do.

“Maybe my news might make you feel better.”

“What news?”

“We’re having a party!” Taylor announced cheerily.

“Not sure of the exact date—right now we’ve a couple of dates in mind— but I’ll let you know when it’s all sorted.

It’s gonna be soon, though. And you are coming, okay?

In your best gear, no less. There’ll be alcohol, a barbecue, alcohol, music, alcohol, guys… ” He snickered.

In the back of his mind, Paul heard alarm bells. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing.”

The innocent tone didn’t fool Paul for a second. “Uh-uh. Out with it.”

“Well, me, Mark, Sam and the gang might have lined up a few guys to invite with you in mind.”

Paul groaned. “I wish you’d all stop trying to set me up.”

“We’re not,” Taylor came back swiftly. “We just wanna get you laid.”

He groaned. “My cock’s trembling in anticipation.”

“It’s for your own good!” Taylor responded.

Paul rolled his eyes. “Hanging up now.”

“Wait!” He caught Taylor’s hurried shout.

Paul put the phone back to his ear. “Don’t give up on Adam, okay?

From what you’ve told me, it sounds like he’s really going through it right now.

Yeah, I get that he’s a pain in the arse, but think for a minute, Paul.

How would you be feeling if you were in his shoes? ”

That was a sobering thought. “I really don’t know,” Paul confessed after a moment.

“You read those links I sent, right?”

“Yeah.” The brutal way Adam had addressed him had forced everything Paul had learned from his mind.

“You’re right, of course.” Adam didn’t need people running out on him.

He needed people he could rely on. Paul sighed.

“Guess I’ll be going back tomorrow, then.

” Another day of being insulted and ignored to look forward to.

In the words of the song, things could only get better.

He hoped.